My 2016 Tiny Desk Contest submission. Super lo-fi, a recent song written for an wonderful songwriter named Tony who I knew from the local Nor-Cal music scene. He will be greatly missed……
I am happy to be back on the radar after the holidays and a short vacation from reality (aka the horrible flu that took down most of the country last month).
I feel cleansed and excited to be working on the final tweeks to the album, (tentatively being called “Love It Up” !!!) including some layering of harmonies/ vocals, and some additions to some songs like some organ on the title track.
Once the mix is done, I will switch gears to getting the perks together for all the lovely indiegogo supporters and plan a rad cd release party to celebrate with everyone!
In the meantime…..
I will have some little previews soon of some tracks off the album…it is very different from the last album with more of a full band sound, I am SUPER excited to share it with you! I will also be posting videos of some of the new material (video above is from the recent show at Hopmonk, with the lovely and fabulous Mr Dennis Heneda, who played on 7 of the 10 songs on the album!)
Thank you again for contributing to the album — it is because of you that it is coming to life! And thanks for your patience while I pour all my love and heart into finishing this right… More soon…
I write a lot of songs about love. Matt mentioned that after he had listened to both my albums all the way through, and he was right.
I have written songs for people through the years, sometimes they deserved them (sometimes they didn’t), but all the songs were hopeful for the existence of — the persistence of — the ability to accept — love — in whatever form it may come in.
These songs are not just love letters, but they are kind answers to the faithless ruminations of a cynical, questioning, contracted mind. They say let someone see your most true & joyful self. Let someone bring you out of your shell over and over again until you live there permanently.
This song is my newest to date, played on my baritone ukulele: “You May Be Just What I Need.”
This song was written on one of my trips to visit my oldest friend Ali. I have known her for 30 years, since kindergarten. We both grew up in Forest Knolls, (West Marin, CA). I recorded this video in the warm late afternoon light in my studio on the hill, only blocks away from where Ali and I grew up together.
Her study of dance took her north to Seattle after High school – our friendship kept alive by letters and yearly visits. Flying always makes me reflect on and feel whatever is going on more deeply and intensely, something about being above those godly billowing formations where humans are not meant to be. It was my first day there and I was sitting on Ali’s deck with her old guitar (it was up on Capital Hill and you could see the city, the sky needle, the ocean…) and this song came out in full. It was a surrender to my history, my faults, my character flaws, the oldest stories I was holding onto. Knowing somewhere that one creates either a loving universe or a hostile universe, and being stuck in the former. (The feeling like you aren’t getting what you need from someone/the world, when really it just means you aren’t giving it to yourself and the frustration within that realization.) The acceptance that you have to work out the themes your parents passed down to you no matter how hard you try to out run them.
The “$50 for a new tattoo” line: I did have an appointment to get my “om” tattoo on my wrist but chickened out. I thought if I got a tattoo it should be in a really good space feeling empowered. (and I did get it finally last year)