My Father's Death, March Winds and April Showers

Sometimes the words and atmosphere of a song come from places in you that you're not necessarily fully conscious of at the time of writing.  Later, associated with real events, they may take on new and/or fuller meanings.  'March Winds' was like that for me.  It's a simple song, certainly not groundbreaking lyrically, but the words felt right when I laid them out and why fight it if its working?

My Father passed away on the 28th of March at the age of 84.  Having done battle with numerous health problems for quite a few years, he surrendered finally to wait out that inevitable eventual call of whatever-waits-next, spending his last weeks laid up in a hospice. At his request, the members of our family kept a vigil for those few weeks, taking turns to make sure at least one of us was with him at all times. I volunteered for the late shift, starting about 3a.m. (as I'd just travelled over to the U.S. from Britain my body clock made that about 10 a.m. anyway, so it made sense). 

Dad's sleeping patterns were increasingly erratic. He slept a lot, sometimes disturbed by progressively intense states of delirium, or extended periods of not moving a muscle or taking a breath for so excruciatingly long that I'd become convinced he must have finally shuffled off the old mortal coil. But then he'd suddenly breathe again.  Or he'd surprise us when he'd come to, wake up fully and be quite coherent and aware. At these times we'd wax nostalgic about old times, or what he regarded as unfinished business, or deliver some advice ("Thomas you should get a hair cut") or talk about the Grand Scheme of Things: "You know that little house you grew up in, that's just a tiny thing in the Grand Scheme of Things."


One morning about 4 a.m. when he was awake I asked him if he'd like me to play him a few songs, and he said yes. So I broke out the guitar and did so.  Playing for one or two people has always been a challenging thing for me to do and I had to work myself up to it, it gives me more stage-fright than playing for two dozen or a hundred. Playing for your parents is the hardest, because there's a built in need and desire for their approval.



My Dad used to simply not get, and even objected to, what I was trying to do with music. But in recent years, especially after showing him my mechanical drum machines and such, he first hesitantly accepted and then gradually warmed up to it and finally, I think, really appreciated what I have managed to achieve with it.
Performing music is also often something of a balancing act between an emotional release and a coordinated control of fingers and vocal chords, all of which were more than a little wobbly in my current state. 

But I stepped up to the plate and played the best versions I could muster under the current conditions of a couple of songs he knew and liked ('King of the Road', 'In Dreams') and then I played him 'March Winds'.  As I sang the lyrics 'The clouds keep on rolling, the river keeps on flowing, can't say where they're going, but I'm going too..." it all felt weirdly pertinent, and by the time I reached "I feel so certain it's all gonna turn out alright in the end" I just fell apart, just lost it. Had to stop. "Sorry Dad" I said.
 "That's alright Son".
He added: "You wrote that? That's pretty good."

That was the last song I played for my father while he was alive.  I played it again at his funeral. Though I did not write it for or about him, it will now always have a relationship with him in my mind.  I thought initially that perhaps when I got on to writing April's song, it would be about my Father in some way. I even wrote a few lyrics, but realized that March Winds is that song, even though I didn't set out writing it for or about him.

In his final days he struggled through some terrifying visions and spiritual challenges before his mind and body finally broke down completely.  It was harrowing.
Back in England I almost dreaded getting in to writing April's song for fear that it would be doomed to being something awful born from the state of grief, jetlag and emotional weariness I was in. 

Instead, working on it was more like medicine. It's not necessarily a happy song, but from where I was at, to work on it lifted me. Lifted me to some middle ground.




 To look around from the vantage point of the dark places I'd been recently,  hanging around death's door with my Dad,  to arrive back in England and see the long warmer days and everything flowering and this Royal Wedding approaching, I just felt like "No, you can't just go straight from that challenging dark world into a pastel Hallmark card can you?  Please April, have a little sympathy and rain a little?"   Or something like that.  So on a certain level maybe April Showers portrays something of this transition between death/loss and embracing life while you still have the gift of it. It wasn't a difficult song to write.  Once I had the basic feel of it taking form, I just kept letting it grow, and then stopped when it was time to get on the promo wagon. 

Ironically it hasn't rained much at all so far in April here in London.  Maybe in a way I guess that makes the song more pertinent.

February What Ya Doin To Me

Maybe one of the reasons I've dived into/obligated myself to the 12/12 project even though I knew it will be challenging is because it may prove to be one of the few things I can turn to for consistency, something that will be constant in what threatens to be a very challenging year. Something I can escape into as long as I can find some little nook to record/make some noise somewhere, wherever it may be.

I have to confess I came so close to NOT jumping into this this project. I didn't feel that confident about it, but championed enthusiastically by Jarvis Cocker, Amanda Palmer, Tom Robinson, Gideon Coe, and many others, 'January Egg Race Dream' quickly received more UK radio plays than any single I've ever released, much to my surprise and delight.

Perhaps February's installment will spoil all that, as it's completely different. February's been rough. It began with a burst of incessant glass-rattling wind storms, this had yet to let up as I finished recording. Emotional situations among myself and my friends seemed strangely synchronous to this, challenged by uncertainties, somewhat unhinged. The result is a bit of a rocker. Possibly a return to the juvenile insanity of some of my former band days when I was an anxiety-fraught teen. Or maybe I still am an anxiety-fraught teen. Once again, it's a free download for a limited time.

Groundhog Day In Wowtown

WOWTOWN WINTER OFFICIALLY OVER

It was a distinctly overcast morning this Groundhog Day in Wowtown. As town mascot and talented Tuba playing groundhog Al Camus emerged sleepily from his hole he hardly even noticed that he cast no dreaded shadow that would have scared him right back down (which, as tradition would have it, would portend an extended winter in Wowtown). He was too distracted instead by the lively gathered throng of townsfolk and their celebratory roar.
It was quite a reception, and he made a grand entrance, putting on airs of nonchalance, stretching and yawning, and finally taking a few graceful bows. But unlike the enthusiastic gathered mob, he was secretly a little disappointed that spring would now officially start, as he'd been enjoying his lengthy and comfortable hibernation wrapped snugly in his soft electric blanket in the warm dark, dreaming endlessly about gorgeous groundhog girls.

January Egg Race Dream

Got back a bit later than I thought, but the interview with Bob Fischer at BBC tees on Friday went well enough. And in fact you can listen to it online for about a week (interview starts a little over half way through, just after Tiny Tim!)
www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/radio/bbc_tees

But most importantly here's the track, hope you enjoy it:

New Year, New Project, New Blog

TWELVE TRACKS/TWELVE MONTHS

I've started a new project that I'm quite excited about, kind of a living, mutating album that will be composed and released at 12 intervals over 2011. I'm not certain exactly how the project will unfold, but tracks will be informed by any number of things: the vibe, feeling, texture, atmosphere of the changing seasons, the expanding and contracting lengths of days and nights, weather, news, dreams, personal or world events as they unfold. I expect (in my usual fashion) that successive tracks may be radically different. The goal is to write, record, and release each track within the span of each month.

This is a bit of a crazy goal as I already tend to bite off more than I can chew and tend to like to let songs develop and ferment over time, reworking and polishing them.  It's something I believe is healthy to let happen, since in this modern age we are constantly confronted by deadlines and seeming lack of time, and it's great to escape to a world where those constraints aren't imposed in which to create.  However, there's also something to be said for the way the time of year influences the atmosphere of a particular piece, and if I'm taking my sweet time finishing a song, say in January, that is evocative of January, but I don't finish and release it until July, well, it might not sit so well in July.

So I've self-imposed a time limit to work within the span of a month on each track, I like the immediacy of the concept. Maybe I wont be able to keep up, but I've dived off the board and finished January's installment a few days ago.   It'll be online this weekend and copies went out to a limited radio, and guess what: I'm now waiting for a phone call from Bob Fischer at BBC Tees. He loves the song and has invited me to go on his show for an interview, monthly, as each new track is finished, starting tonight!
I also received word just a while ago that Tom Robinson is going to preview the song on his BBC6 show tonight as well. Yay Tom!


There's the phone... back later.