Roots Music

Then one fine day
We all fade away
I guess it is the price we pay
To be alive

I’d like to pretend that this new song stems from some deep insights into the cycle of life – you know, saṃsāra, the karmic cycle, ashes to ashes, dust to dust stuff.

The truth is, a while back a friend of mine shared something that a woman he knew had said: “Love is the last memory to fade away.” I started to write a song inspired by that quote, called Fade Away. (BTW there are a lot of songs titled “Fade Away” – good thing you can’t copyright song titles.) I wasn’t happy with the song, so I left it unfinished. Then, recently, working on a new song, the phrase “fade away” fit the melody. So I “stole” it (from myself) and repurposed it for this new song. Fascinating story, right? That’s why they call me the “Story, Guy.”

I’m what I like to call a “reluctant atheist.” I would love it if some kind of unifying, I suppose maybe theistic, “explanation” of existence (or of something universal — the standard model of cosmology, for example) worked for me, but so far, nope. That said, I seem in the habit of making references, both musically and lyrically, that derive from religiosity, or from my upbringing as a Southern Baptist, or from other such sources. Religious fervor has inspired a lot of great art – gospel music, hymns, paintings, churches, temples, etc etc. So maybe I just can’t get away from all that, despite my current lack of a “faith.”

For example,

Everybody rise
Everybody rise and testify

Where’s the love and the forgiveness
Where’s our shame

Love thy neighbor
As thyself

Not everybody can claim they made the moon and the stars and the sun
Not everybody can say the word and have thy will be done
Not everybody can enter my heart and know just how I feel
Not everybody can lay on the hands and make my spirit heal

It’s a fine line separating selfishness from following your dream
Maybe if your dream is big enough to serve us all you’ll be redeemed

I’ve read Christopher I’ve read Karen and
All that the good book can teach me
No foundation for reincarnation although
I admit that it’s tempting

[I’ve learned since that this song is largely about Lucretius’ Symmetry Argument against the fear of death. FWIW.]

Having fun yet?

Sometimes I start to wonder
Wonder how it might have been
What would have happened if Russell and Aaron
Had awakened before they sinned

And If it’s good versus bad
Believe I want to be good
Although original sin is inviting

And, FINALLY:

We act our part and we know who dies
And who will rise

(I hope y’all didn’t mind this rather tedious exercise in archaeological self-indulgence.) Even in my song Eugene – which is about family secrets, two brothers who chose the wrong paths in life, and a child’s love for his father – there’s no church, no preachin’. But Sam Dingman, in his interview with me on his podcast Family Ghosts, says

“…on that chorus, you say ‘Eugene, your father has been seen’, and … the harmony on that is very beautiful, but … there’s something almost like church choir-y about it, it’s so big and resonant, and it’s so many voices. And I have this image of, like, the light of truth like bursting through the clouds.”

I had never really thought about any of that, not explicitly anyway. My first feeble response to Sam’s very eloquent comment was “Oh that’s nice, that’s nice.”

Well, here you go then, another song that maybe comes from that place (click on image to listen):

So I guess I can’t help myself. I’m a product of where I’m from. I suppose we all are. Duh.

Show me one thing that’s essential
But when everything comes and goes
Heaven knows

Indeed. Thank you for listening.