dressing to undress

this is a bit of an odd one. if THE CHICKEN ANGEL WOMAN WITH A TRIANGLE was all about six-string banjo and acoustic guitar, then this album is all about the piano (and, to a slightly lesser extent, ukulele)—and this time it’s a real piano. in a few places it isn’t quite perfectly in tune, but i enjoy the fact that it’s not a typical “perfect” piano sound at work. while the plan initially was to get an insanely sexy (and expensive) grand piano, in the end i think i’m glad i ended up with an upright instead. i never thought i would say this, but sometimes i actually prefer the sound of an upright—or at least my upright—to that of a grand piano. there’s an earthy, organic quality that you just don’t get from a grand, which can sometimes be almost too perfect. you’re not going to get as refined a sound out of a vertical piano, and the very lowest/highest notes won’t have the same power or clarity as a grand piano, but i think it’s the right piano and the right sound for me, and that’s the important thing. i’m happy with the one i ended up getting, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t at all what i spent my nights dreaming about while massaging celery root extract into my scalp. it’s a pleasure to play and record the beast, and i’m still getting used to hearing a real live piano in my music. on a track like new ways of saying old things, to cite just one example, the piano adds a weight to the music that wouldn’t be there otherwise. a digital approximation would sound thin and lifeless in comparison.

in some ways this feels like a logical progression from CHICKEN ANGEL WOMAN, and at the same time it feels like something altogether different. while the last album might have been crawling toward a slanted slab of alt-folk octopus drizzle, i have no idea what genre this one fits into. the sloppy multi-tracked vocals are still all over the place, with barely an unaccompanied voice in sight, and the roomy brushed drum sound from last time is back again with a vengeance, but while there’s a handful of songs that might have fit onto CHICKEN ANGEL WOMAN without too much trouble and my mixing job is once again pretty erratic, this feels like quite a different creature to me. maybe it’s just me, but i think there’s an oddly melancholy feeling that runs through the album, and i’m not sure where that came from. i don’t think it’s a terribly dark collection of songs (the lyrics aren’t exactly sunny, but this is a universe-and-a-half away from the angry, twisted stuff i was doing back when i had a band), and there’s no real overarching theme to the thing…it just feels a little more downcast and “heavier” than anything i’ve done in a while. to be sure, there are a few things that are just plain silly, like evil kid has a square torso and shoelaces of the world, untie. still, notice how, even in something like the manic shoelaces, the few proper words that can be discerned are not senseless free-association, but instead, “obviously there’s something wrong with you.” there seems to be a strange, muted sadness hanging over almost the whole thing—even some of the catchier songs. not that there’s anything wrong with that. i don’t think it has anything to do with what happened when i was in the middle of recording the album, either (home invasion…long story), because as horrific and traumatic as that experience was, it didn’t leave me angry or depressed in the immediate aftermath, and it’s had no effect at all on my music that i can detect. the one song i’ve written that touches on what happened isn’t even here, because i decided i didn’t feel like tackling it for this album. strangely enough, it’s kind of sympathetic to one of the criminals; an attempt at imagining his unraveling through a series of murky snapshots. so i’m not sure where that pensive feeling comes from. maybe it’s a winter thing. then again, the first words on the album are “i’m getting tired of wanting things that don’t take kindly to being wanted” and the last words are “songs of love, drained of all love”. that’s a bit of a switch from being born a second time and having a naked man in your heart who is somehow female in spite of his/herself.

do the mountain hop is another one of those songs that seemed to come from somewhere else, with no prompting from me. for whatever reason i felt the urge to try sounding a bit unlike myself vocally, which led to singing with my throat mostly closed. i’m not talking about a kermit the frog sort of sound…i’ve messed around with a lot of different voices over the years, but this was more like engaging muscles that are usually ignored and then not knowing exactly what to do with them. i wouldn’t recommend that you try such a thing for any extended period of time, and i’m not sure i’ll be doing much of it myself in the future, because after a while it gets a little uncomfortable and your throat starts to wonder what the hell you’re doing. still, it was a fun little experiment, and i enjoy the fact that the singing doesn’t sound entirely like me. it kind of sounds like i was trying to emulate tim buckley circa 1968, at least until the very end when my normal voice finally breaks out for a brief wordless moment. i also like the fact that the title of the song is misleading; it sounds like it’s going to be some sort of uptempo stomp (do the mountain hop! it’s the hip new dance craze!), which isn’t the case at all. the hammered dulcimer—another new quirky instrument—makes its recorded debut here. i doubt i’ll ever master that thing in any conventional way, but it’s a fun sound to add to the palette. also showing up for the first time are some odd percussion items and a few more funky old guitars, along with some other miscellaneous noise-makers from various walks of life.

there’s even more of an emphasis on acoustic and organic sounds this time out, with little in the way of electric guitar to be found. i didn’t want to fall into the trap of re-using the electric guitar sound employed throughout much of CHICKEN ANGEL WOMAN; it does show up in a few places here, but i thought it would be more interesting to try and fill up empty spaces in different ways. the end result might even be more layered than the last cd, but it still feels oddly sparse to me…the opening track, for example (revenge is sweet), has a lot going on, with no less than nine different instruments coming and going at different times, but on the whole it’s a pretty stripped-down affair. in my head i could hear it potentially coming out sounding like some sort of glossy technicolour production, complete with booming “proper studio”-sounding drums and a brass section. of course, it didn’t quite turn out that way…there actually is a brass section, of sorts, but the whole thing is more or less the inverse of what it could have been in the hands of a large-scale studio/producer, and i think i prefer it that way. it would be far too bizarre to hear my songs given the ultra-high-budget, major record label treatment. besides, who needs carillon bells when you’ve got a suitcase glockenspiel?

absence makes the heart grow fondue feels like the climax of the whole album, at least for me. i never anticipated writing anything like it on a ukulele of all things, but it just kind of happened, as did the improvised piano part that took over and altered the shape of the song to some extent. it was tempting to dip back into psycho johnny territory and unleash some screams, given the borderline aggressive energy of the song. alas, the urge to abuse my vocal cords still hasn’t returned. i did at least end up turning in what might be the most intense vocal performance i’ve recorded in a good few years. it felt a little cathartic, like there was more there and i was holding back a little. a little tension can be a good thing sometimes. the song is another one of those things—like “a well-thought-out escape” from the last album—that’s made up of just a few chords repeated over and over again, and it’s basically all buildup with no release until it simply dissolves into nothing, but it feels right and is probably one of my favourite things on the album. similar story with your sweaty golden mouth; just a few chords, and i was tempted to layer things a lot more than i did, but it felt like it came out as it needed to be. i like the little ukulele harmony bit right at the end. will work for food is simpler still: a two-chord song written in five minutes. somehow it sounds buoyant in spite of the fact that the lyrics don’t tell a very happy story at all, and it’s probably one of the catchiest things on an album that doesn’t seem to have a whole lot of peppy, uptempo songs on it.

this album isn’t quite as packed as the last one, and that’s mostly down to the fact that there are some longer songs this time out; the first four tracks alone take up about twenty minutes between them. i’m still a long way off from recording 18-minute marathon songs like in the days of old, but it felt like it was time to start working with longer forms again, in addition to the cough-and-you’ll-miss-most-of-them songs. naturally, several little song shards were going to worm their way into the fabric of the album one way or another, many of which were unexpected improvisations, but at the same time there are songs like new ways of saying old things and the sun is a red ball of lies tonight that get the chance to stretch their legs quite a bit. the ass, enchanted with the sound is the longest closing track on a cd of mine in several years, and it starts out sounding vaguely like a ballad (or as close as i get to ballads these days) before going somewhere a little…different. everything about it was improvised except for the lyrics, and though the words had been written i had no idea how i was going to sing them while i was in the process of recording the vocals. it’s fun building something when you don’t really know where it’s going to go and letting the music surprise you every step of the way. all these years later, it’s still a surreal experience to listen to something that was created/recorded in such a way and realize that it sounds like i sort of knew what i was doing when i really had no idea.

this feels a fair bit more disjointed than the last cd, even though it again flows more like a proper “album” than my cds generally tend to. things get a little claustrophobic in the last half, or maybe that’s just me again, inferring something that isn’t there. whatever the case may be, i could have tightened this album up quite a bit just by jettisoning the various tiny songs that are scattered throughout, but i’m not all that interested in making tight, compact, predictable albums right now. i like things that are sprawling and difficult to digest. there are still a lot of rhyming lyrics and conventional song structures throughout, like last time, but there are also several songs here that don’t walk down conventional paths. and again, there was no master plan and this wasn’t an album i anticipated making, but i think i’m pretty happy with the way it turned out, even if i’m not exactly sure just what the hell it is. i like the way the first half or so of the tracks lead into one another pretty smoothly and then after that things suddenly get a little jerky and a lot stranger. i like that the drumming seems more varied and confident (i’m still rarely playing with sticks these days and continue to find the brushes much more stimulating). i like that there’s viola on the sun is a red ball of lies tonight; i thought i would get a few friends to lend their voices and instrumental prowess to a few things, which was ultimately downsized into just asking my friend anna (who wrote “wait all morning” from the last album) if she would be into playing on a song or two. hence the first guest musician credit on one of my solo cds in a decade. A DECADE! how’s that for ape shit applesauce? i didn’t give her any direction at all; she listened to the song once, and then i hit the record button and she played what you hear on the cd, completely winging it. i already liked the song before, but i think her playing elevates it to a different place entirely. i was halfway tempted to ditch the vocals entirely so i could just concentrate on the viola. it’s pretty wild to hear that sound in a song of mine. but i guess it’s true what they say…there’s a first time for everything, unless it involves wheat grass and motor oil.

something a little odd: the word “heart” shows up in three different song titles (all of them are ukulele-driven tunes too), yet never appears once in the lyrics. i also find it kind of amusing that a song like when your heart skips a beat had the potential to be something rather pop-y, and i guess it still is by my standards…but it’s undercut by a pretty weird vocal approach (particularly during the second verse), a stripped-down arrangement and some intentionally dissonant bugle blasts during the instrumental break. it’s always fun taking a catchy tune and messing with it in different ways. another fun little detail is johnny smith saying “happy new year” in shoelaces of the world, untie (definitely one of the more warped things on the album), just before everything drops out for the mason jar percussion coda. he’s a little buried in the mix, but if you listen closely you should be able to pick him out. and finally, fun random little detail # 4: anything that sounds vaguely like a mandolin is actually ukulele. it’s surprising how versatile those little things can be once you get one that isn’t a toy and actually has solid intonation up the neck.

i really have no idea what to put up here in the way of samples because no two songs are really going to come close to giving anyone an idea of what the whole thing is like, so here is one of the catchier ukulele-based tunes, along with a song that sounds a bit like i inadvertently captured what the inside of my brain must look like right about now.

TRACKS:

revenge is sweet
new ways of saying old things
do the mountain hop
the sun is a red ball of lies tonight
defenestrate your heart
capricorn cloves
survival of the least fit
water to town
centipede marriage proposal
will work for food
shoelaces of the world, untie
disowned umbrellas
armida
your sweaty golden mouth
roof rats
evil kid has a square torso
when your heart skips a beat
this bed is a bear trap
spider ventriloquist
absence makes the heart grow fondue
feeling
the ass, enchanted with the sound

STUFF TO LISTEN TO:

Defenestrate Your Heart

Roof Rats

LYRICS:

(as before, lyrics that were improvised are not present here)

REVENGE IS SWEET

i’m getting tired of wanting things
that don’t take kindly to being wanted
i’m training my brain
to think like a hurricane
kleenex boxes
six empty water bottles
i’m crouching down to see you
the sky is a face & it breaks
according to the day it blankets

i’m training my body to bend in unusual ways
while i’m sleeping my love away

remove your hand from my chest
remove my makeup from your face
everybody’s gonna be happy, except for you and me, my dear
we’ve got places to go
& feelings to kill
& it isn’t gonna let up anytime soon

you say it like it’s a bad thing
almost as if it were the only thing
no one could ever betray you
’cause they could never find a reason to
i could never make you love me
’cause you’re just not wired that way
you put the zest in my easy-bake oven
you put the sizzle in my bellybutton steak
this omellette speaks german…
this onion’s on fire…

revenge is sweet

NEW WAYS OF SAYING OLD THINGS

the clothes in your belly
the food on your back
knees turn to jelly
hands start to crack
spin around, baby
spin around till you can’t be seen

her teeth are pearls, all scratched to hell
i kissed them once with rusty nails
it was an elegant accident

i am the idiot solvent
that you inhale in your garden
the ground revolting beneath you
you’re only crass when you need to be
my nails are sharp enough to cut through
the walls you erect around yourself

must i say something sweet?
does it matter if it’s hard to hear?
you’re my turpentine lip gloss
leading me higher & higher
what else is there left to say?

you’ve got the most beautiful mouth
that i’ve seen outside a dream
the way your teeth dance with your tongue
like an envious machine
you may not spell all the words right
but you sound them out just fine
i can’t think of anyone else
makes me tingle like you do

just ’cause your charm is incredible
don’t mean your arms are still edible
just ’cause the bomb didn’t blow you up
don’t mean the whale’s gonna throw you up

DO THE MOUNTAIN HOP

how she shines & makes you cry
for clemency & leniency
have you ever seen her do the mountain hop?
the mountain hop
i’ve a tale or two to tell
of effortless viscosity
careful what you fish for, friend
hold tight your rod; how taut the line

how inviting
let’s work on inciting
a response that could not have been sent for
ahead of time

wrap it up in frilly ribbon possum-things
& rusted strings
plastic roses in a bowl
we’ll eat them all, until we crawl
to the bathroom, bleeding tears
& sweating off our former selves
have you ever seen me do the mountain hop?
the mountain hop

how very fitting
i am unwittingly providing you
with the means to escape

THE SUN IS A RED BALL OF LIES TONIGHT

dear boy
suppose i should apologize for never naming you
but you see, most of my life, i’ve been trying to keep from blaming you
for all the indignities i’ve had to suffer
i know you can’t blame your unborn child for things
they couldn’t possibly exert any influence on
but convenience is a very arousing mistress
& you were just there to dump on when i needed you
& then i threw you away…

dear boy
by the time you read this, i will probably be dead
what can i say? i’ve been writing bad cheques again
& the people i’ve pissed off, they don’t mess around
first they kill your car, & then they break your legs
& i don’t have a car…& i already sold my legs
to some really nice homeless argentinean guy
who really needed a pair

hate is for the weak & willing
link arms & sing it with me now

dear boy
i don’t know what the hell i’m supposed to say to you
i never was much good with words, you know
i cannot take back what has been done
no sense in tryin’ to make it right
maybe i’ll send you a postcard from down below
i hope it ain’t as hot as they say it is
i’ll wave if i see you & hope that you’ll do the same
’cause you know sometimes it’s nice to see a friendly face…

DEFENESTRATE YOUR HEART

through the pane of glass
onto the wet concrete below
watch it stain the ground all around you
sweaty palms & random confusion
where’s your sense of self?
put your skeleton into it

war-torn chest, a victim of violence
self-inflicted wounds
scissors wouldn’t do the job quietly
now the blood pumps in all directions
bouncing to the beat
what a mess you’ve made here, baby

love is
love is
love is something i killed when it kept me up all night

screams & cries & alibis that won’t hold up
under the scrutiny of your fading organ
how low…
how low can you go?
hollow….
hollow, the sound of the cavity

all that’s left now is just a gaping hole where once was life
birds perch there & defecate daily
i will keep the area clean just as well as i can
someday something new will grow there, maybe

CAPRICORN CLOVES

time won’t heal shit
but you look so good when you hurt this way
i say milk it for everything it’s worth
push through his chest
find a reason to complete this sentence
making love to a chain link fence
but never the same way twice

i’m not gonna give you up
no, i’m not gonna give you up…

well, i need a little bit of optimism
’cause the sun won’t shine in my dark corners
& i could use a little sexy synergism
’cause the drugs stopped working thursday night
well, i need a little bit of self control
so i don’t chew all my inside face off
i could use some walk-in closet lingerie
& i’ll model it for you, my pretty

WATER TO TOWN

i am a three-legged woman in a one-horse town
i am your incestuous lover with a strangely contoured gown
will your liquefied crayons keep us moist tonight
while the heat sleeps lightly on every rooftop?
oh, i don’t mind if it don’t
oh, i don’t mind if it don’t

they took our money, our tonsils—everything that we had
or at least everything that they thought was worth a damn
now they’re choking on warm saliva & bits of their own bile
because their bodies couldn’t acclimate to the desert life
oh, i don’t mind if they die
oh, i don’t mind if they die

we’ll have our wedding in april & a funeral in july
’cause you know this’ll never last if one of us don’t die
yeah, we care for each other, but it just ain’t enough
you gotta strip away the artifice & get down in the viscera
oh, i don’t know of any other way
to prove our love

WILL WORK FOR FOOD

lickin’ his lips on a high road
satchel draggin’ his shoulders down
lickin’ his lips on a high road
satchel draggin’ his shoulder down
down, down, down, down…

foot follows foot like an entrail
tangled all up in someone’s hair
walkin’ till the sun chokes on itself
burnin’ motor oil & scorched earth, sayin’
“it don’t matter then, where you go…”

left his house in a reverie
drunk as ever a man could be
couldn’t wash off the stink of it
seven days worth of sweaty guilt, sayin’
“it don’t matter then, where you go…”

lickin’ his lips on a high road
satchel draggin’ his shoulder down
thumb don’t work as well as it should
but he got a sign he gouged in wood, sayin’
“will work for food”

ARMIDA

it’s a long row to hoe
takes a long time to amputate your soul
you’ve got no place to go
that will tolerate your movements
licorice twist ties hold the skin tight
to prevent what sits inside from an untimely demise

with a voice like that, you should be in the movies
with a face like that, you should be on my mind
my punctured liver lives inside your stomach
what’s mine is mine alone
what’s yours is his

YOUR SWEATY GOLDEN MOUTH

lick your sweaty golden mouth
bite your lip for me
if you draw blood, all is well
if not, then…we’ll see

tell me that you’re here to stay
for a day or two
next time you go away
i’ll come after you

fasten myself to the back of your car
not where you can see
if i incur a bit of damage
that’s alright now…that’s alright now…

stones fly from the road up to my eyes
but i don’t mind
tailgating breaks my legs
but i’m doing just fine
if it rains, that’s quite alright
i’ll have myself a drink
if you stop to buy some gas
i just might take a leak

later, by the fireplace
you will tend to me
pick the insects from my hair
heal my broken bones
if i’m tired, i’ll fall asleep
you’ll stay up to read
not that much will be retained
because it’s all a dream

ROOF RATS

my place mat’s falling down around town
so effortlessly stripped of its crown
the wind brought you something beautiful
but you didn’t recognize it

WHEN YOUR HEART SKIPS A BEAT

well, you won’t mess around
but you won’t just succumb to me

as your cheekbones crumble
& your pulse, it doubles
you prepare to lose your mind…

well, you won’t mess around
but you won’t just succumb to me

another loveless marriage
that needs cheap sustenance
abandon ship & save yourselves…

THIS BED IS A BEAR TRAP

my baby, she drives a mean volvo
she wears a cop uniform she bought from the uniform store

one step, you’re a seagull
another, you’re a snake
one more step & you’re someone else’s shattered pelvis

your ear potato’s looking mighty fine
is it alright if i keep it with mine?

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDUE

nurse, nurse
someone’s in the kitchen with my baby
nurse, nurse
someone’s in the kitchen with my baby
does it hurt when you breathe like this?
turn your head to the side & cough
say, “mm-hm, mm-hm, mm-hm…”

when i was left for the very first time
wasn’t quite sure what i was supposed to feel
the freedom & the pain all got blurred together
your gum made a permanent home in my hair

things go right
things go right
right over my head, every single time
things go wrong
things go wrong
& i think to myself, what the fuck have i done?
what the fuck have i done?

no need to write this down
don’t need to write this down
the words have been burned on the memory bone
i’ll skin you alive
skin you alive
make a man out of me
make a quilt out of you

i feel for you
i feel for you
i feel for you
i feel for you
i feel for you
i feel for you
what do i feel for you?

THE ASS, ENCHANTED WITH THE SOUND

don’t look now, but your lover’s dead or dying
took one straight to the jaws
of course, the term is broadly applied
to the whole of the structures constituting the vault of the mouth
& serving to open & close it

heat is a stain you can’t escape
you push at its sides
strain to part its thighs
but are met only with cold, unblinking resistance

it snakes across the floor
body language hard to read
tongue taut in its tray
limbs swaying
there’s something heavy about the motion
not at all effortless
more like an ant swimming in a blender
trying not to die
but the arms don’t flail wildly
they seem distant
disconnected
amused, even

maybe this is what it’s like
to feel a change approaching
hot & lucid on the nape of your neck
cold & silent in your chest
teeth wet & stiff
poised to respond
when there’s nothing to respond to

no tactile meat
no thrust of hips
no cone-shaped heart
no cum taste kiss

songs of love
drained of all love