the ingredients. (“drowning in the sound”)
so – even though it was a race to the finish, goddamn am i happy with this song…i’m so glad you all are digging and listening and sharing, i’m seeing iy out there in the Real World sharing away and it’s wonderful.
a few pieces of good news….pitchfork posted about it this morning: https://pitchfork.com/news/amanda-palmer-shares-new-hurricane-harvey-benefit-song-listen/?mbid=social_twitter …
and so did the mexican indie music site, IndieSpace: http://indiespace.com.mx/amanda-palmer-comparte-nueva-cancion-benefica-para-los-afectados-del-huracan-harvey/ ….
it’s a friday and monday is a holiday, but i’ll get back in the saddle on tuesday and wave it around.
i thought it’d be fun to post this here, given the amount of writing you guys did in the lead up to the post….
this was my working list of ideas/lines/things grabbed from the comments (from the thread here). some of the mess below is right out of the comments and some is right out of my head…i won’t bother to mark the difference between the two, but some of you may see your ingredients in there. all of the little snippets in the list below were then written on pieces of paper (a picture of a few attached) and i stared at them. the ones that suggested a song got outlines in red and then i got to work.
a few of the things that stood out as going directly into the song, like visible chunks of chocolate in a cookie: the comment about whether a kid even knows what a broken record/skipping CD is anymore…the comments about feeling betrayed by your body… those stuck out and worked their way into the bridge “the body is a temple…”…and the line in the third verse about “do you ever feel that incredibly alone” was lifted directly from a comment.
also…nothing exists in a vacuum, and i really was getting raked over the coals on facebook (here, for joking about taylor swift and here, for sharing a post of lena dunham’s) the night before and the morning of songwriting. a lot of that made it into the middle verse (the “you’re trying to help” verse”.) so THANKS TAYLOR SWIFT and ANGRY PEOPLE OF FACEBOOK. who knew.
and the below……you could read this as its own wonked-out piece of exquisite-corpse poetry.
if you missed it, the lyrics of the final song are all on the project page (along with the finished song):
and again: THANK YOU all of you for all your stories, input, feelings….it made the thing.
there were two or three songs that popped out at me that wanted to get written, too.
the song about the gold, the “kintsukuroi – golden repair”…oh my god, that’s a song of its own and i’ll get to it, i hope. and there’s another song sitting in the back of my mind now…something about a statue…something about the lives of statues and how they begin and end. also very topical given what’s going on in this crazy ass country…..
they’re going in the songwriting “later” basket.
all in all this was such a fantastic experiment…engineer fuck-ups and all.
it’s a reminder to myself that i can write and work.
unless you mind terribly, i’m gonna try to do this again. maybe even in london.
…… NOTES …….
all stories start with the moon
all stories start with a girl
unpacking without a bookcase
weather metaphors everyone’s got one
the clouds that delight you and then rain on everyone
betrayed by your own body
whether you want it or don’t doesn’t matter
the artists will always get under the weather
hold my hand and xxxxxxxight
the dark only lasts til the end of the night
the sun wasn’t out and so it was cold
some things just make sense
if you’re born you’ll get old
Dm Am Dm AM Em?
xxx can’t see the sun
but you hope that it’s still out there shining on someone
you can xx push a button
but you can’t turn off the animal that wakes you without murder
Do kids these days even know what it means to feel like a broken record or a CD that won’t stop skipping?
how much time do we have
xxx iconic Heart
i’m even failing at falling apart
seeing everybody drowning
seeing everybody dying
Cracking a heart of stone in 3 easy steps.
1) high heat.
2) a big hammer
3) a deep breath before the upswing
scarf can make your neck warm and it can strangle you to death
sentimental journey to the second floor hall
wilde quote: we are all in the gutter but staring at the stars
cold hearts – cold winters – reindeer boots, mistaken for russian
if you don’t expect anything there’s no room for regret
you’re a baby still soft and confused from the womb
asleep with the smell of your mother’s perfume
feeling safer than house
but houses collapse
welcome to the dollhouse
cannot think cannot breathe but the cat needs to eat
so i crawl to the kitchen on my elbows and knees
and i should probably get out but hide in the car
and my state is all wet and my country’s on fire
i violently don’t want to be here
do you ever feel that
do you ever feel that alone?
don’t lose too much weight
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge….
down the drain
miss clavell “something is not right”
but the stars are all out and it doesn’t feel right
and they’re xxxxxxxx oscar night
stealing teeth in a pile putting gold in the cracks of your life
life – fillings
bending tabs / over doll figures
more than the sum of their hearts
and if time is happening all at once, why….
at the mercy of your friends at the mercy of the sky
slipping from time to time / in different beds
maybe we don’t even all bleed red
but we’re all looking up at the same moon
oh wait but nobody’s looking up anymore
Sometimes I don’t feel real. Like other people are fully fleshed character and I’m a stick person. – SHADOWS / eclipse
spot a puddle and it’s clear and still and it perfectly reflects the sky and you just sort of stand there looking down at it and thinking, isn’t that little thing amazing, and I was here to see it. It’s a hole in the ground but it’s also the sky above.
casey writes to warn me that i’m wearing a kimono in a picture and people might yell
maybe it has gone too far
listening to elliott – one foot of fabric that i want to wrap around us all
Women are still killed by men. Babies still starve. Governments still torture. I am not enough to change a fucking thing
all the old people dementia. alzheimer’s
people telling you that you don’t deserve a mother/
so get into bed
i’ll read to you and you’ll read to me
Also how the very worst thing is when someone hurts you badly and then right in the middle of it they make you laugh; I never feel such a blinding urge to do a murder….Also how some mistakes, particularly political mistakes, when you know you’ve made them you hang on to them like hanging on to the tail of a balloon- and every second you don’t let go takes you further from the ground.
all the caterpillars we walked on getting to the eclipse
terrifying speeds and distances
My childhood abuser is now a Parkinson addled old lady with dementia. These things are so difficult and hard to deal with ((hugses))
turning back the clock – trump
12 fingered moon skull – white spider belly
do kids even know how it feels to be a broken record?
kintsukuroi – golden repair
kintsugi – golden joinery
the call of the void
the call of the wild
the dishes to do
the life of your child
you’re breaking — things that matter
are you breaking her apart just so that you we can watch you fix her?
no attempt to hide
no attempt to hide the damage
a woman with a walker and children on the roofs
xxxxxx filling cracks with gold
storm in a teacup
31 minutes to sound the all clear
and then i’ll be there and you’ll finally be here
my natural state is drowning
my natural state is burning
“everything felt over-significant”
gold becomes you
cocktails – drugs
some things are predictable, and some, not so much
grandmothers gold dead ring
chasing two minutes of darkness
we don’t need to hunt for food so we hunt for something else
YOU ARE HERE
who is alive are you are you
we all fall down
KIMONO – something in my suit
moon-hearts eclipsed by the sons of the revolution
worship the sun but piss on the earth
worship the moon but shit in the sea
miscarriage while entertaining children / work face
he died in 1995 before the cocktails – doesn’t exist on google
“As the dark wave carries the whole sea, Is my life ahead or behind me? I’m a heartbeat… I’m a flatline, Between headlamps and brakelights.”
il était un petit navire
thinking that statues are forever
they get sick and die like all of us
but because they’re made of metal they just live a little longer
that’s not me, i am not that
“you wanted so much to have nothing to touch”
filling a broken heart with gold
“I’m out of the time I’m in. I hear it ticking. Is it me or a bomb?”
building a bridge to love
my body is a temple
the temple is a prison
the prison is overcrowded and underfunded
I’m a very lonely religiously Jewish woman, unmarried at 28 and far away from a synagogue or other young Jewish people and I work at a natural/cultural history museum filled with taxidermy animals and mannequins and at this point I should probably dub one The Rabbi and just pretend I have a community with the literal thousands of taxidermy specimens around me. Do you have any idea how much it will cost to replace our adult African bull elephant? +-$12 million. You’d think that would scare management into looking after it, but no.
i wear my feelings on my sleeve
i have a tattoo on my heart
i have a needle in my arm
that traces my xx to the start
i don’t have to live forever
just one day longer than my wife
they tore my limbs from me
No one wants to swap places with me. Except when the car park is full.
“It’s eclipse season and the skies are full of smoke”
you want to be on right side of history
but the compass keeps spinning
and history isn’t a statue
a statue of legs being bombed running….
the dark side of the moon
i can taste it coming
i can taste it with my tongue
and what i’m carrying is heavy
but i think i’ll still have to run
and if i can’t run i’ll have to swim
and if the water gets too high
i’m going to ,,
things turning to gold….pain, diapers, shit, blood, bones, skin…
what if there was only hope
what if there was only night
and what if there was only black
and what if there was only right?
i’m not sure i have it in me
look at all the people not fighting
look at all the people not drowning
look at all the things that we’ve lost
but sometimes it’s so good to not find them
the better strangers of our nature
look at the moon
i know you can’t see it
but look at the moon
it can’t possibly all be as bad as it seems
maybe it’s not worth healing
not worth feeling
moon pulling everybody out of the water
big spoon / little spoon
or would you rather i just left the room
this isn’t a race
it’s a parade
what’s happening here
is happening there
what’s happening to me
is happening to you
if you don’t see it
it’s still happening
it’s still happening
happening to you
5 year old:
the plane is going to crash into the moon…….
———THE NEVER-ENDING AS ALWAYS———
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