Monday, March 2, 2009

Untitled Conflict Song #1














It's not the weight/wait
That brings me down. The aweful/awful way You treat me. You treat me. OK It's just that I don't think You see me. You see me. You see me at all/et al.

JOHN: This is a product of sitting around late one night.  One of the reasons Screeching Weasel did so well was because we ventured away from where hardcore had gone.  They had lost any sense of melody and harmony, and lyrics were all sung identical to the chord changes being made.  So with Even In Blackouts Liz and I worked hard on trying to come up with melodies that stray from the the base chord, and we try to create lines that often contrast with the rhythm of the chord changes.  Once I felt we had a grip on that I brought back the parts where we sing exactly what is being played (in rhythm and in notes).  We did this in 1,000 Stories.  It seems to go well with the songs inspired by bluegrass.  I don't know if this is remotely like bluegrass but the intention came from that.  Then I liked the idea of using a talkbox.  I have always been fascinated by the talkbox.  I love the way it sounds in Aerosmith's Sweet Emotion.  I thought it would be cool to try it on an acoustic guitar.  So now the guitar exactly mimics the vocals.  Then I wanted the second half of the songs without lyrics to sound like an explosion of emotion, so we sat in the studio and came up with as many melody lines as we could that sat together well.  We layered about 6 of them on top of each other.  This section was inspired by Neutral Milk Hotel.  I wanted a trumpet player to record a very distorted lead over the music and vocals but we couldn't find a trumpeter in time.  The lyrics I am pretty proud of.  They sound fairly simple but each sentence has one homophone, giving each sentence two slightly different meanings which adds to the whole.  I'll let you put the pieces together.  It's not a puzzle as much as it is a short story about what we expect from love.

517 E. Highland


I called you at home but your home isn’t home for you anymore, anymore.
I called you at home but your home isn’t home for you anymore, anymore.
I put on my make up. I put on my old shoes that I wear when something goes wrong.
Goes Wrong.
Goes Wrong.

Your home isn’t your home anymore.
Your home isn’t your home anymore.

Now I’m tired of mascara running down my face.
I’m tired of our life and my feet are aching.
The sun is rising.
The sun is rising.
The sun is rising.

A man on the corner drinks a bottle of after shave. We get on the bus.
Heading west. He laughs into a handkerchief. And I smile for him and the mascara runs down my arm.

My hands are tense and tired. And your not at home. We have no home.

JOHN: Although it sounds influenced purely by Pop punk, the initial inspiration for the music came from Madonna and Sublime.  I love this song by Madonna called "Music."  I felt jealous that she had someone sample an acoustic guitar for a pop song.  It's a pretty damn great song.  I structured the beginning of 517 based on that style of sampling, but we didn't have the time or budget to make that happen, so I dug up a casio out of my closet and we used that instead.  I think it was a good choice.  It gave it a 80's feel that I hadn't originally intended, and it lead to the great bass part Phillip created.  The mid section is definitely straight forward pop punk, with simple repeated lyrics like the Ramones, but I am proud that we could bookend this pop sound with other influences and still make the song flow.  The ending I modeled after Sublime.  I didn't know much about that band until Jesse Michaels introduced me to it.
The lyrics are based on a "before and after" exercise in writing.  You get the beginning of the story and the end of the story, but you are not quite sure what happened to her once she put on her good shoes, left her home and went out into the night.  You only know that she is now sitting on a bus early in the morning watching a homeless drinking aftershave, and she begins to cry.  The man drinking aftershave image is borrowed from my Neo-Futurist friend Jessica Anne.  She wrote a play about a man on the bus drinking a bottle of mouthwash.

We're So Tough We're So





We’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so
We’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so
Got your cotton lined armor on paddling out receding into the distant sea now
I’m on the shore waving my trusty sword made from balsa wood and tinfoil
Shouting names kicking holes in the sand as you paddle faster with the palm of your hand now

We’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so
We’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so


I’ve got a horse in need of repair made of Boiserie paneling with fibrous insulation
He doesn’t float but I’m sure if he did, I’d paddle him out and have him kick you in the ass now.

We’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so
We’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so tough we’re so

Don’t wave that white napkin flag at me, you’ll take that mop handle off it and pop me in the knee. Yeah.
So forge ahead lost and thinking your free, I’ll always be here waiting, and wading, wasting my time on the shore of this Sea.



John: I originally wrote this song as a very serious short short fragment with just me on guitar. We had the idea on Fall Of The House Of Even to have short musical fragments in between the "normal" songs. We didn't have the time to get these recorded so some of them turned into songs for Thresholds. It originally was just the chorus done once, in a sad low voice, similar to how Romantically Inclined sounds on the new record (which you haven't heard yet.)When friends started to say that that chorus was very catchy I decided to try and make it a full length song. This is when I realized it was a humorous anthem. It is now the humorous counterpart to the song Castaway The Days That Run Upstream Through The Past. Thresholds is the theme of the record, and I began to think of the divide between the water and the land as a threshold. I also liked the idea of combining adult themes with childish themes. We're So Tough is basically a picture of a Quixotic character standing on the shore in a childish rage yelling at his just as Quixotic nemesis who is sailing away. Castaway is about looking out at the Sea and remembering vividly the one you love, so vividly that you can see and feel them sitting next to you. Love and Hate/Land and Sea. We're So Touch We're So could have easily been done with electric guitars, it is very straight forward, and is influenced by the Ramones and my former band. The song sounds like it should be done with distorted heavy guitars, but we liked mirroring the contrast within the song of tough, machismo, being described with things made out of cardboard, balsa wood, and tin foil, with the tense downstroking being performed with acoustic guitars. I love this song. At the living room shows this became an instant hit, I think because it is so easy to sing along to. One night, Liz skipped the whole middle verse, so the audience made us do it again to close the show. This version may make it onto the live living room cd recording, just because everyone was singing along. It was a pretty great moment.

Phillip Hill: This was a fun one to record, as you can tell by Liz and Bice goofing around at the beginning of the rough-mixed version. Bice's "HI-YA!" karate yell in the middle makes me laugh every time!

Lizzie: almost everyone that heard us play this song at our living room shows left singing it! my best friend still had it in her head a week after the last of the shows. late that night we started laughing, talking, and praising johnnys writing abilities and ended up directing the video in our heads. you just picture us blackouts and our little punk counterparts yelling, pointing, and waving our tin-foil covered nerf swords across "vast" puddles at stereotypical grade school bullies. were so fuckin tough! i couldnt help but pump my fists as i laid down the vocal track for this song. actually, that happens every time i play or listen to it. :)

Gub: This song brings me back to feeling like how it was to be a little kid and how clear your mind felt about making decisions. If you did not get your way "You would paddle out have him kick you in the ass now" feeling. It is so intresting how creativity and clarity go hand in hand sometimes.
The song makes me feel like we are all at the beach building sandcastles together.

On The Road In Between



Liz: Hello Sir ....how do you do?
Phil: I am fine.
Liz: Is there anything in particularly new?
Phil: Bice?
Bice: Yes Phillip?
Phil: Please show this beautiful young lady that new...

Liz: It was something so delightful
It was down right frightful adamant..... corse..... construe
I was thinking who would want it
Then someone took and bought this
I was furious and stormed out of the room.

Liz: Hello sir....how do you do?
John: I am miserable
Liz: Is there anything in particularly new?
John: Doubtfully not
Liz: Then I saw it
Boys: (Yes she did)
Liz: Then I saw it
Boys:(Yes she did)
Liz: I saw something so delightful
I saw something so frightful
It was ghoulish , caul .......obtuse
It was not far from my hand when a bird flew up and grabbed it
In awe I stood staring at the clue...

Liz and Gub: I was staring at a light falling into darkness
I was carving out the night crawling into darkness
I was starving alive standing in the darkness

Gub: Hello mam how do you do?
Liz: I don’t know
Gub: Is there anything in particular we could do?
Liz: Hmmm
You could wind up that jalopy
Drive out of the mohave
And get me to the station by noon.
It was so catoptric humiliating neurotic
I will definitely half to buy something new!!!


- Lyrics and music by Gub Conway


Gub - The thought of this girl needing to buy something but not knowing what to get turned into this song. I wanted her to be in this fantasy world of shopping. Where everything around her is unnoticed except for this unknown object, what happens to it, and how it makes her feel. When she realizes that this place is not real, all of her problems come out. They consume her. At the same time this fantasy world is trying to mantain its place with her. Giving her comfort from her problems and to keep reality at bay. It is sometimes hard to accept that you must confront your problems and solve them. Most of the time we all want to run away and hide. Pretend they do not exist and hope that they solve themselves on there own.

Phillip - This song is so "Gub". And that's a GOOD thing! I can't help but think of Bice's visual of 'Dracula on rollerskates' during the funky part! Ha, ha! This song was totally fun to record and always a repeat listen for me.

John - I think this is my favorite Gub song. It has a bit of acting, good song structure (strange too!) and you can dance to it. Having another songwriter in the band allows me to concentrate on parts that are not controlling the rhythm of a song. I feel I can be more creative with "guitar playing" when I haven't written the song. I decided to play this song through a DI, which I normally hate. But I remembered when I first got my old old four track years ago, and how I used to plug my electric guitar right into the unit without an amp. And I remember really liking that sound. When we tried it on this song, I immediately starting playing this disco-esque lead part, Bice and Phillip laughed. We then tried it with the song and it seemed to fit in wonderfully. Like Phillip said, it truly made all of us picture a vampire on rollerskates. I could even smell the dank, scraped, rubber floors that coat the roller rinks.

RANDY SCOUSE GIT



By Micky Dolenz

She's a wonderful lady
And she's mine all mine
And there doesn't seem a way
That she won't come and lose my mind.
It's too easy humming songs
To a girl in yellow dress
It's been a long time since the party
And the room is in a mess.

The four kings of E.M.I.
Are sitting stately on the floor
There are birds out on the sidewalk
And a valet at the door.
He reminds me of a penguin
With few and plastered hair,
There's talcum powder on the letter
And the birthday boy is there.

Why don't you cut your hair?
Why don't you live up there?
Why don't you do what I do,
See what I feel when I care?

Now they've darkened all the windows
And the seats are naugh-a-hyde.
I've been waiting for an hour,
I can't find a place to hide.
The being known as Wonder Girl
Is speaking I believe.
It's not easy tryin' to tell her
That I shortly have to leave.

Why don't you be like me?
Why don't you stop and see?
Why don't you hate who I hate,
Kill who I kill to be free.

[Progressive scat vocals]

Why don't you cut your hair?
Why don't you live up there?
Why don't you do what I do,
See what I feel when I care?
Why don't you be like me?
Why don't you stop and see?
Why don't you hate who I hate,
Kill who I kill to be free.




John - I have always loved The Monkees, especially Micky Dolenz. This song has always been on my mind as a cover and as a musical influence. It is fun, a little rebellious and has a swing jazz feel to it. And I think many of my attempts at having the lyrics of the verse repeat over the chorus in previous EIB songs came from my love of this song.

Phillip Hill: As the bass player, this song was fun for me to record. That's Bice playing the toy piano in the beginning and ending. That's me at the very end saying, "When you're ready...". That wasn't intentional. I was actually talking to Bice from the control room to let him know that I had pressed record and he could start playing the toy piano. It sounded so "Beatles-esque" that we decided to leave it in the mix. I love the sound of Liz's stacked vocal tracks on this song.

Romantically Inclined


I could come up with 2, maybe 50,000 reasons why you should stay.
I could come up with 2, maybe 50,000 reasons why we should go our separate ways.
Our logical hearts aren't romantically inclined.
Our logical hearts aren't romantically inclined.



JOHN: This is one of those songs you write as you are playing it, and only perhaps a word here or there you alter on the second or third take.  It is simple and says exactly what I want it to say.  And that's all it has to say.

RAPTURE IN THE THIRD PERSON

She’s tired of countless fights with her son, who is born once more but drunk again. Nothing wrong with feeling the sadness of life bleeding and needing repentance. But often words used against each other are only distractions for one’s own defense. He was drinking with money from her wallet and with tears in his heart. He cried out in fear, “It’ll be a lonely place in heaven when my family’s all in hell. You’re damned for all eternity. And there’s nothing more that saddens me. You need to be saved, or I’ll be lonely in heaven without you.”

Holy is the sinner sacred is the stone, drinking bloody holy water and stumbling back home. Damned are the loved ones who struggle in their lives, damned are the loved ones who struggle in their lives.

JOHN: It took me this song to express the anger I felt at my brother for making my mother very sad. I was surprised that recording this actually caused my anger to subside. I can't say that I will ever see eye-to-eye with him, but this did allow me to step back and remember the things I liked about him. And this purging produced one of my favorite songs I have written to date. I love the lead and harmony parts that Liz came up with, and I think Gub's grubby-man rap part is pretty incredible. Plus I think the song honestly expresses an opinion that people with born again friends and relatives can relate to.

He’s alone again lost in this room without a window



He’s alone again lost in this room without a window
can’t see his way to you
and it’s gone
We keep this place dry and clean
afraid of washing away old dreams
now we found his way to you
but he is gone
it’s so hard to see ...who needs this anyway
Will open the door to this fate where the world seems so strange
we will let you know.........when your home, safe, and warm
until there is no place else to go
he was nowhere at all
We all go back to our closed doors
We all close our back doors
how do I get out of my front door
when there is no one else to be
I know it was only me
I was nothing at all
I was nowhere at all............He was nothing at all.


-Lyrics and Music by Gub Conway

It wasn’t just a random series of Exoduses, it was our Houseses!


We were handed baking soda, to let it deodorize the refrigerator. We preferred watching it explode when we dropped it in vinegar. He wanted milk, then he wanted water, then he wanted milk, then he wanted water. She poured them both on his head when it finally got to herrrrr. Two cats learned to play piano they called their siblings and they came in droves. This took away her breathe, but they could breathe even less if left to freeze in the ccccccockold. Twenty three years the door was left unlocked, only a stake stolen once. Spoken: Can you believe that? A stake, was only stolen once. Friends of friends of friends of friends with pot stains on their brains and umbilical cords. Called her mother, called her often, took her for granted and she loved them even more. Even more. Even more. No even more than that. Even More. Even More.

JOHN: I often try to write about my Mother, but it seems I am better at writing about tragic figures in my life, whereas my Mother has been the salvation.  The woman who struggled to bring up five children on her own, gave her life to us.  This song is about the turbulent days in my youth when my brothers were crazed, angry, confused about their father leaving.  It is about all the strays my mom would take in, cats, kids, elderly, the young and the dying.  She took them into her life and they sucked out her insides.  We all made it through those times, but believe you me, it was rough!  This record, to also fit in the theme of thresholds, has two perspectives on similar situations.  This is the comical take of the more serious goings-on in "A Non-Fictional Account of My Families Rage..."

Castaway the days that run upstream through the past


Castaway the days that run upstream through the past Breathe touches ear and dreams you beside me. I’d like to float here for the rest of my life Like I did in a similar place a long time ago. Oh oh Ooh Ooh Although this deserves much more I don’t have the time to survive that place again. I want to hold your memory sacred But I’m growing older dissolvent unaccompanied It’s all frozen on a beach we visited once. On a whim. It sits in my mind just after a swim You walk up from behind and place your hand on my shoulder And we sit and look out at the sea. Ooh Ooh I’d like to float here for the rest of my life But I’m growing older dissolvent unaccompanied.

JOHN: This is the serious counterpart of the song We're So Tough.  The image of the beach as a threshold is a theme in both these songs.  Looking out at the sea, as we look at our relationships with others.  A threshold between the imagination (the Sea) and reality (the sand on the beach).  Imagination in We're So Touch is used as children use them, to create a world other than our own, Knights and Castles and mythical wars fought with household appliances, whereas Castaway uses imagination to hold in place a memory that can be revisited.  Nostalgia is more an adult activity.  This song is a reminder to myself to cherish those memories but not to exist only within them.

A non-fictional account of my families rage with metaphorical implications


I’m higher than, I’m higher than the mounting range of my families rage. But I’m lower than, I’m lower than the highest resistance to hiding inside I can’t fight back, I’m too small for that. But when you see your mom thrown through a door, the lowest depths are stirred inside. I’m emotionally overwrought, existentially tied down again. Tied down again.
The fountainhead is spiked with glycerin I never know when the affects will finally kick in. The life I cleanse in could be the very one soaked in poison. Down I fall. I’m emotionally overwrought, existentially tied down again. Tied down again.

The highest stair at the very top where brother punched a hole right through the wall. I can see my dad putting his pants on his head, and its’ very sad. It’s very sad. And the accumulating haze during those final days was the highest point for the lowest rage. But we never spoke word or hugged til it hurt. We just tucked our heads and bowed right down. I’m emotionally overwrought, existentially tied down again. Tied down again.

The fountainhead is diluted by time. It wont kick in It’ll just swirl around. The life we cleansed in caused this calm and it won’t speak out, it won’t cave in. I’m emotionally overwrought, existentially tied down again. Tied down again. I’m emotionally overwrought, existentially tied down again. Tied down again. Tied down again. Tied down again. Tied down.

JOHN: This is the serious counterpart of Exoduses.  When Gub and I had early conversations about this record the idea of family came up often in regards to doors and thresholds.  It didn't seem a very concrete leap but it made sense to us.  We walk through many different doors in our lives and with a goodly some of them, while we are standing both inside and outside, we often wonder if this is leading closer or farther away from the selves we were when we were growing up, being influenced every day by family.  This song deals, somewhat obtusely, with the violence in my childhood, and how it has lead to a passive recognition of my siblings in adulthood.  Often I will be invited to friend's houses, and I am shocked by how much drama goes on with sibling relations, both above and under the table.  My family hardly has any of this conflict, I think our violent past has given us a calm in our shared present tense.  Although we are not nearly as close as most families, we are cordial and compassionate and have no use for passive aggressive behavior. 
I should also say that the music and melody was originally the backdrop for lyrics about bi-polar personality disorder.  That is why the melody and even some of the words left over have peaks and valleys, highs and lows.  This still seemed to work with the idea of rage in the family, flaring up and calming down.  Liz also took to this rhythm, and I think it showcases her ability to sing higher and lower than anybody I have ever met.

How Do You Kill A Ghost?


I've Gotta' Message For This Town, I've Gotta' Message For You.
I've Gotta' Message For This Town, I've Gotta' Message For You.
Hold Me Closer Now That You're Gone.
Hold Me Closer Now That You're Gone.
Where Do You Buy a Gun?
Where Do You Buy a Gun?

I've Gotta' Message For This Town, I've Gotta' Message For You.
I've Gotta' Message For This Town, I've Gotta' Message For You.
Hold Me Closer Now That You're Gone.
Hold Me Closer Now That You're Gone.
How Do You Kill A Ghost?
How Do You Kill A Ghost?
How Do You Kill A Ghost?
How Do You Kill A Ghost?

JOHN: I originally wrote this as a play for Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind. I like the mystery of the words I put together, but I will share their fundamental meaning here. I say fundamental meaning because I do believe that the listeners interpretation of a song is just as valid as the intention the writer gives it, especially in songs like this which try to be poetic before they try to be informative. I like writing songs on two levels simultaneously, this intrigues me, and I do feel that clashing ideas finding symbiosis is the core of creativity, in general. I thought about writing a song about the craving to have someone with you who has gone away, and I combined this with the murders in high schools that have been plaguing this country lately, especially in the new when I wrote this. Plus Even In Blackouts has been my place to explore the use of ghostly figures and all the metaphors that they bring with them.

Animal Crackers


Last night the wind reminded me of you

settle sounds of the city echoing

this is not the only thing (bothering me)

this was not the only thing (torturing me)

this couldn’t be the only thing ( watching me)

this was the only thing

the fear of being all alone.

Last night someone told me to run

laying on the floor apathetically

this is not the only thing (Walking on me)

this was not the only thing ( crawling on me)


this was the only thing

the fear of being all alone

so hide behind these doors.

And wait for the sunrise...

Motives Misunderstood in the Key of C

To love is to let the bird fly fly away.

That’s what me fool said to get through that day.

I let my brain do the work and form the words

Condemning my passion to embarrassment and woe

If I fell

If I needed

If you fell

If you needed

What would we do

What would we do

We talked of distance and indifference

in the midst of diners and holding hands

I helped you make the life decision

that left me fool beside myself and bewildered behind

If I fell

If I needed

If you fell

If you needed

What would we do

What would we do

And what I want to say while this path moves away

I would rather my motives have been misunderstood

Than to have just have been a distance my whole foolish self

you passed on the way to something somewhere else.

If I fell

If I needed you

If you fell

If you needed me. If you needed me. If you need me.

Then My Motives are Misunderstood.

Then My Motives are Misunderstood.

JOHN: There are basically two ways that I write a song. I will start playing a few chords on the guitar, hum along to it and just begin singing. These songs usually take about the exact same amount of time to play them that I spent writing them. This is both good and bad. The song will usually be insanely catchy with a repeating part that people sing along to, and often it will have a raw emotion attached. But the long term meaning seems to dissipate for me. If Leaving Were To Be So Easy and Take All My Cares Away, are two examples of this type of song, and coincidentally If Leaving is one of our most popular songs.
The other way I write is sitting down and purposely writing about something life-altering that I have recently experienced, almost like a journal. I will sit with this writing a few days and clarify and try to squeeze the truth out of it. Then I will grab a guitar and try to make music fit to the words, hopefully not having to change much. This usually leads to songs that I listen to on my own for a longer period of time than the former style. I feel this latter style demands that the song grows on you, that it is trying to say something more substantial and must be viewed in a way beyond it's shear ability to make you sing along. Dear Resonance and Darkest Days are the most obvious songs formed from this approach. Most of my songs about "Love" are usually in the first category:Played quickly, no time to think, get that emotion out there. Motives was approached combining these two approaches. I wrote, recorded and set aside a riff for Fall Of The House Of Even that was never used. It had been forgotten until I realized we needed a few more songs for this new record. I dug through old recordings, found this piece of music and I listened to the riff a few times, let it sink in, and then promptly and purposely forgot about it again. I wanted to write a painfully truthful song about my break-up with a woman I love dearly, a song that didn't take an overtly hurtful subjective side to the incident. I wanted to deal with my anger and hurt in a respectful way. I wanted to state in these words exactly what I felt happened and exactly why I thought the whole experience was deeply painful. I wrote the words down without rhyme. I then listened back to the riff I had created a year earlier, and I bashed the two together until they become one. New and old together. It's a simple song structure with a simple rhythmic pattern combining what I believe to be the most painful lyrics I have written.
PHILLIP: This is one of my favorite songs from the new album! I love the "rock" feel and the super-catchy chorus, along with the heartfelt vocals. The fact that I sing a harmony with Liz through most of the song almost gives a feeling that the lyrics are coming from both the male and female points of view of a failed relationship; both of their "motives" being "misunderstood". This song got stuck in my head for several days after laying down the vocal tracks. That can't be bad! Nice work John.

CATACOMBS


Grandicide spitting trails I followed to my disgrace Smiling with a doubt I can’t dissuade.

Get the Fuck away Away Get the Fuck away
Away

Footsteps of Monetary morals to skip
Choirs gone sour spewing baggage bile

I found myself an abandoned home buried deep in a catacomb I found myself an abandoned home buried deep in a catacomb I found myself an abandoned home buried deep in a catacomb I found myself an abandoned home buried deep in a catacomb I found myself an abandoned home buried deep in a catacomb I found myself an abandoned home buried deep in a catacomb

Get the Fuck away
Get the Fuck away Get the Fuck away Get the Fuck away

I hot-wired my conscience now it’s bare
I hot-wired my conscience now it’s bare I hot-wired my conscience now it’s bare I hot-wired my conscience now it’s bare


JOHN: The Lyrics to this song are purposely vague, basically they are about deceiving one's own morals and hiding yourself away in grief and guilt. More important to me is that Liz has always been a big fan of the band TOOL, and I wrote this song to attempt a similar style, but I don't really know enough about that band to pull it off, so I based it more on my experience with heavy metal bands like Judas Priest and Iron Maiden, mixed in with a little Ramones for comical flavor.