about
Moderation is key, and as soon as I find myself with enough proto punk to put together a decent set list, naturally my desire does a 180 and I’m writing twee pop like Safari. I don’t know why - perhaps my subconscious push to never, ever get anything done, perhaps a search for a greater balance, maybe just what was on the radio yesterday. Needless to say, I feel a twee kick itching inside me and I’m obliged to follow said urges for the next few weeks.
The trouble I ran into this week is: Not a big fan of my voice. Wrote a song that sounded fun played acoustically on my bed. When I started to record, however, the range my voice took in the mix seemed too low. Normally in this sort of situation I’d grab the nearest female voice to cover up mine. Unfortunately, because of my poor scheduling skills, the collaborator I was working with this week couldn’t make it out. I tried screeching it an octave higher (no go) and I tried throwing the microphone at the floor (not smart).
My problem is: I can never tell if it’s just me hating on my voice or if there really is something amiss with it’s quality. I clearly lean to the former more often than not, but in this case I made do with what I have - had the keys take a higher part, added some additional underscoring to balance out the mix (still, I almost always like my vox on top). In the end, it did give the chorus a nice boost to be the only thing sung an octave up.
So, next week: Singing lessons. Buying a capo.
lyrics
What’s all the hurry?
Where’s all the time?
What was I learning?
I don’t need it
Find my a forest
Fetch me the sky
Where was my worry?
I don’t need it
I trade my lessons for a mend
And lay my pressures to the fence
I’ll pay my debtors from the end
Cause hell this ain’t the end
Let’s go on safari
Let’s see what we find
There’s no need to hurry
I don’t mind it
We’ve only our story
We’ve no need for time
If they find it boring
I don’t mind it
I wave my presence of pretense
And save my questions for the end
I trade my obsession of a sense
The sense has met it’s end
And oh I grew too fast
Oh where was my heart?
And I wanted death
To quit a bleeding spark
So back to the strain
Of the far off run
And I will chew my reign
Because I am not done
Let’s go where the dark is
Let’s go where we fear
We’ll try where the heart is
I can find it
We’ll dig up the bone yard
We’ll burn what we see
We’ll shoot the horizon
I can find it
I wave my presence of pretense
And save my questions for the end
I trade my obsession of a sense
The sense has met it’s end
And oh I grew too fast
Oh where was my heart?
And I wanted death
To quit a bleeding spark
So back to the strain
Of the far off run
And I will chew my reign
Because I am not done
It’s not like you lost a friend
It’s not like you lost a brother
It’s not like you lost your arm
It’s only the end of the start
And oh I grew too fast
Oh where was my heart?
And I wanted death
To quit a bleeding spark
So back to the strain
Of the far off run
And I will chew my reign
Because I am not done
credits
from
Singles 2010,
released December 31, 2010
Music and Lyrics by Mattroi
license
all rights reserved
