Beauty in word and note

When Dave and I sat down to introduce Jordan’s conversation with Bobby in episode 7, we spent a few minutes relishing what phenomenal musicians we found in both Jordan and Ben.  Both learned our charts very quickly, both have an understanding of music theory which rivals, maybe even supersedes, Tim’s[1]. The improvisational skills they each possess is confounding, and they have impacted our sound in ways I can’t always articulate, although it is a little easier when I have a specific song like “Little Notes” to point to.  The song was “finished” when we presented it to Jordan. By that I mean that the key, the structure and the words were all finished, but the song had one more opportunity to grow. For those of you who have heard us live recently, you’ve had your ears blown off by Jordan’s solo on “Little Notes.” I’ve said this before with “The Dave Note” alongside episode 4, and again in “Who and Where We’ve Been” with episode 6, so I won’t spend too much time on it, although I have begun to recognize a pattern in out instrumental sections.  As amazing as he is, I think one of the reasons that Jordan's solo is so effective is because it takes the opportunity in between the words to convey things that we feel but can’t always articulate: alexithymia[2], as I’ve come to learn[3]. Since Jordan chose to feature “Little Notes” in this episode, I want to give you the backstory for the song and some context for why his solo is so easy to connect with. But first, let me tell you something which I recognized about myself long ago.

I’m not anywhere near the same kind of song writer as Tim.  Tim writes a lot. There was a period where he was spitting out at least a song a week, likely more.  Now, not all of it was good—I told him that, and he’d tell you the same—but the goal wasn’t to write number 1 hits.  He was practicing the craft of songwriting. When Tim discovers a new chord progression he takes it to his guitar or piano and figures out how to place it in a song, how to sing over top of it, how to play it syncopated, fast, slow, in triple and duple.  He does this by writing songs. If it doesn’t turn into anything good, then so-what? Now he has a new tool sitting in the bank which can be utilized at any moment. That’s how he works. Sit down, record a cool riff, pay the electric bill, write a song, buy groceries, sleep.  Chris Stapleton writes the same way. I heard him say in an interview that if a song isn’t done within an hour of him sitting down to write it then it probably wasn’t any good. 

I, on the other hand, do not function that way.  I don’t spend time on ideas that won’t be good enough to play.  Obviously I don’t write as much as Tim, so I’m not nearly as practiced as he, and I’m sure this is a self-fulfilling prophecy in a way, but it doesn’t bother me.  When I sit down to write a song I slave over my work, and don’t stop until it’s complete. It took me 3 straight hours in my dim apartment to write “Wildcard,” back in 2014, and it took the band another year or two until we had found an arrangement which worked. My process is a long and painful one, but I’ve come to terms with that. That’s why I—like cilantro, leggings and Jack White[4]—work best when I’m not alone.  Tim is obviously a great counterbalance for me because of how much we’ve written together[5].  He doesn’t let me get psyched out after the initial riff and lyric are written.  That’s what saved “Little Notes.”

Some day in 2013 I wrote down the chord progression and first verse:

Your love is a little note

You left in my desk drawer.

I didn’t read every word you wrote,

So I don’t know what I found it for.

I loved that image: here’s this very simple—even boring, if presented alone—image which is then shifted to carry a huge weight for the speaker.  The item is found unexpectedly, and is from a time long-since passed. The memories which it brings with it are uncomfortable and force the speaker to make some sort of reaction or response.  I spent hours and hours and hours writing more stanzas following the same structure. Your love is (insert seemingly mundane item which may not carry any intrinsic emotional connection) + (situation which allows the audience to understand the emotional connection to item)+ (speaker’s current reaction to the item and the memories it brings).  None of them were good. None. So I had this decent riff and one good verse after hours of work. I was exasperated and exhausted, so I dropped it.

It wasn’t until 2014 or 2015 that I showed it to Tim.  Immediately he came up with the palm-muted guitar lick which opens the track.  Amazing!  Then I explained to him the idea/formula I was going for. We wrote a few verses together, scrapped one or two, and looked more closely at what we’d written. One stanza seemed like it took place much closer to those past events, so we started the song with that and used it to set the context for these mundane items occupying the verses and addressed the love in past tense, as opposed to the present tense items in the body of the tune. 

Your love was a warm embrace

That kept me moving forward.

Since you left I’ve been forced to find

The love you hid in every corner.

We thought it would be cool to end the song with something similar: a bookend and a reflection of that idea.

Your love, it is none of these.

They lock you in my mind.

I’ll burn this note today,

Just let me read it one more time…

That was huge.  It's the speaker saying “I know that I may not be remembering you correctly,” “ I may be distorting this image of you to fit my desire,” and recognizing how unhealthy it is to keep those mementos of a past life.  The speaker even agrees to get rid of all these things which are tied to this relationship… or does he?  Tim and I left that last line in there because it’s ambiguous, and its different for everyone. There are people who need to read those notes one more time before lighting the match, but there are also the people who keep those things around to read just “one more time,” and will get rid of it “someday,” but not today.  These were the most important verses in the song, because every act is represented. The remaining stanzas simply flesh out what is already basically there through a photograph and an open book. Very simple, very easy to connect.

This is where Jordan’s solo returns and my second word of the month[6] makes its entrance: desiderium.  Desiderium is an ardent desire or longing; especially a feeling of loss or grief for something lost.  At the end of the day, this song is about loss. Jordan’s solo happens, for me, at the perfect moment of realization within the song.  It’s late enough to fully recognize the gravity of the speaker’s situation, but it’s still far enough away from whatever decision is made at the end.  It is raw emotion. It doesn’t need to concern itself with the sequence of events which brought about this feeling, nor does it yet have to worry about the future.  It is overwhelming beauty. My eyes squint and my whole face contorts when I hear it. I stop everything I’m doing because of how beautiful it is—especially how beautiful it is in context.  Is the speaker stopping to remember, through the pain, those brief beautiful memories, or is it the prospect of a future independent of these things weighing him down which might be beautiful? 

It’s very easy to place boundaries on the lyrics and say that it’s about an ex-girlfriend, but that isn’t how Tim and I wrote it.  Losing the life of or the relationship of a spouse, friend, parent, child, pet, boyfriend, girlfriend: that feeling longing over something lost is what we were trying to capture, and the difficulty which can result in trying to move on from it.  How much time spent in mourning is too much, or too little? How many reminders of him/her can I keep in my life? The song is really written from the false sense of peace the speaker thought he had found already, but there are often little, seemingly insignificant, everyday things which can transport you back into that world, full of joy and pain, fulfillment and loss.   The main reason Tim and I left the ending open is because we haven’t figured it out: we can’t tell you what the right answer is because there isn’t one right answer. There are always going to be notes worth burning and those worth saving. Choosing can be the hardest part.

1. And that is saying something.  Music Theory was Tim’s favorite subject in college.  I studied theory consistently, though not aggressively, since I started playing piano.  I can hold my own, but when Tim, Ben and Jordan get lost in a conversation about preferential musical modes, I dip out. 

2. Alexithymia is the inability to identify and express one’s feelings.  There’s a word for everything! No idea how to pronounce it, though....

3. And all of that is relatable on a biblical level, too.  In his letter to the Romans, Paul reassures these new followers of Jesus that it’s alright if they didn’t always have the right words to use in prayer.  After all, their interactions with God largely had to happen through a priest up until then. Left to interact with Him on their own, I can imagine that feeling of dependency and inadequacy.  Paul tells them that “the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” Romans 8:26-27.  Whoa.

4. I’m sorry, I just don’t like his solo work.  He’s obviously a great musician and is a peerless creative force, but I can’t be convinced that The Raconteurs wasn’t his best project.  People have tried.

5. If you can’t tell by the intro Dave and I did for this podcast, we work together really well, too!  However, Tim and I tend to tell each other “no” enough to keep ourselves focused on the task. Dave and I tend to say “I dunno, man: let’s try it!” For example, if, in the process of writing a song with Tim I chose to use a phaser with an echo, Tim would think for a second before politely telling me that it was “funny” but probably wouldn’t fit this particular song.  Dave, after the same ridiculous phaser trick, would reply with “Oh my GOD! That’s AMAZING” while we both lose our minds laughing...and then spend twenty minutes fine-tuning the phaser and the echo before recording it on our previously finished demo track. Tim and I work more efficiently, and Dave and I can get easily lost on our way, but both have proven immensely creative combinations, and I’m truly blessed to have them both as writing partners.

6. Do you think that it would catch on faster as a hashtag?  #wordofthemonth #wordoftheweek #morelikewordofthegeek #thisisnotavocabularybloggreg #butitiskindofcoolihavetoadmit #themoreyouknow