dressing to undress

i already wrote a bit about this one in this early blog entry, so i won’t really get into the genesis of the album because it’s covered pretty well there, if in condensed form.

in any case, this thing is pretty weird to listen to today. it’s probably the closest i’ve ever come to making genuine pop music. mine kicks things off on a happy-sounding acoustic note, though the lyrics aren’t exactly sunny. there was a part at the end of the song where i thanked the imaginary backup vocalists, but i cut it out for some reason. i guess i thought it was a little too silly. when it rains was originally written as a sad piano ballad, and for some reason about half of the lyrics came to me while i was taking a bath. when it came time to record the song, i threw out the original music and instead grafted the lyrics to this uptempo electric guitar thing, which changed the entire feel of the song. it’s funny how happy you can make lines like “baby’s back / high on crack / she gave it all away for a little bit of pleasure” sound just by playing major chords and singing a certain way. the end result sounds something like a raw hall & oates demo, which is pretty hilarious if you ask me, though i’ve always liked the song in spite of its pop pedigree and the occasionally off-key singing. la montage is probably the only thing that gets a little strange, with lyrics about how god has no tonsils and the sun has no nipples, but the music is catchy enough to keep it grounded. here she was written as a stab at capturing an old acoustic rolling stones vibe, circa “beggar’s banquet” , but it doesn’t really end up sounding much like its inspiration would suggest. it also marks the first time i ever played real drums on a recorded song (i had just bought my first drum set that day), and while i had no idea what i was doing behind the kit, i like the big, detuned drum sound i got at the time. it sounds sort of like i was banging on the walls of an old tool shed or something.

the vocals for jiklönne were recorded the day after the PG tracks “c’mon” and “gay Animal Rights” (the music came from about a month before), and initially the song showed up on KISSING THE BALD SPOT, but in the end i decided it felt more at home here, since it was a solo piece after all. it seemed like a good way to end things. i’m not sure what possessed me to try re-working we was dead as a ballad, but i think it turned out a lot better than the papa ghostface version did, even if i still never quite captured the song the way it sounded it my head when i wrote it. dirty reflection was originally written on piano, complete with lyrics, but for some reason i decided to turn it into another one of my early stabs at something approaching electronic music, and i never got around to recording vocals. the weird filter effects were added after the fact when I finally mixed the song in the summer of 2002. promises may be the strangest thing of all—an epic ballad that really sounds like something of a genuine love song. i would never write something like that today, but it was written for a girl who didn’t actually exist, so maybe that’s why i can still listen to it without my stomach turning. it also features some of my best singing on the album and a jazzy instrumental mid-section.

in the end, i’m not sure where i’d rank this cd exactly, but it’s grown on me, and it’s kind of fun to hear now. eventually i’ll probably figure out some sort of visual presentation for it and put it together as a proper cd release, complete with a thick booklet delving into the album’s creation in more detail. maybe i should record a bunch of the songs that were written for the album but never made it to the recording stage, and issue that as a companion piece or something. it’s a thought.

TRACKS:

mine
when it rains
sound of the smell
what’s best
la montage
here she
promises
all angels
we was dead
dirty reflection
jiklönne

STUFF TO LISTEN TO:

Mine

La Montage

MINE

packing my bags
gotta get away from the city
everyone makes me feel bad ’round here
i feel shitty
what else can one do in a world without pity?
there’s gotta be something better to do
than sit around here feeling shitty

don’t act like it’s your fault
’cause it’s mine
funny how you never had any time
the less i think of you, the better i feel
maybe nothing that we went through ever was real

riding away in my taxi cab
i don’t drive none
looking up at the clear blue sky
i can see the sun
i know it can’t be this easy for everyone
but i don’t care about anyone else

’cause something inside me
tells me everything’s alright
something inside me
won’t stop calling out your name
i can’t stop calling out your name…

don’t think that it’s your fault
’cause it’s mine
i don’t wanna go back
no, i don’t wanna go back
i don’t wanna go back…
the less i think about you, the better i feel
you needed time to heal
i never needed time to heal
’cause nothing that we went through ever was real

WHEN IT RAINS

baby’s back
high on crack
she gave it all away
for a little bit of pleasure
she might stay
some would say
that she’s only passing through
something she’s been known to do
she won’t talk
she won’t walk
she wears a dull mask of indifference
she won’t eat
all she does is sleep
she’ll lie still for hours on end
she’ll lie still for hours & hours…
that’s all she does

i remember her quite differently
full of life & talkative & sharp as a knife
but she’s changed since then, apparently
an empty shell remains
she says she’s only happy when it rains

SOUND OF THE SMELL

say what you want
say what you mean
you may never get another chance
you may never get another chance
to dance that slow, dead dance
dance like a dead one
you’re not really doing anything
we’re not dancing
you think we’re dancing
“what’s that?” you say
you break off

it’s the sound of the smell of something dying
a limping dog or a double-edged blade
the sound of the smell of something dying
the death of whatever we made

get it all out
say what you mean
this may be the only chance you’ll ever have
to get it all out
say what you mean
spit out the venom
& get away clean
dance that slow, dead dance
you’re not really dancing
we’re not dancing
you think we’re dancing
something distracts you
catches your eyes

it’s the sound of the smell of something dying
a limping dog or a double-edged blade
the sound of the smell of someone trying
trying to save something good they had
trying to find any good left inside of it
trying to avoid the inevitable
trying in vain
trying in vain

this could be the only chance you’ll ever have
to dance that slow dead, dance
dance that slow dead, dance
with me

WHAT’S BEST

round & round & upside down
first you’re lost & then you’re found
round & round, upside down
trying to do what’s best for you
in & out & in-between
first you’re brown & then you’re green
in & out & in-between
trying to do what’s best for you

painted from a dream…
you always do what’s right

right to left & left to right
why do we always gotta right?
right to left—what’s left? who’s right?
trying to do what’s best for you
first you’re red & then you’re black
what are you doing on my back?
red to black…on my back
trying to do what’s best for you

you always try to fight it
you always try to analyze it
& you don’t even realize it

so tear away this mask you wear
or are you afraid there’s no one there?
i’m only trying to do what’s right
trying to do what’s best for you
give it up or give it away
you can’t give it anyway
you only want what’s best
i’m trying to do what’s best for you

HERE SHE

here she comes walking down the stairs
with her long dark hair
i’ve got long dark hair too
but it’s not as long as hers, that’s true

here she comes walking toward my chair
her fingers in my hair
she’s got long dark hair, too
but it’s longer than mine, that’s true

all i want is to touch her hair…
but she won’t let me

she says that it’s a healthy role-reversal;
she can do whatever she wants with me
& just as she starts to feel like being merciful
she throws me up against a tree
it’s hard for me not to be in control
but she leaves me with no other choice
my throat is so raw from her screaming
i think i’m losing my voice

all i want is to curl up & die…
but she keeps me alive

if my heart ceased to beat
she’d be there with the paddles
no matter what, she’s always right
i never win the battle
if my brain was blown to bits
she’d put me on life support

she needs me
& on some twisted level, i need her too

ALL ANGELS

i wanna do what the angels are doing
no one listens to me
i wanna go where the ugly ones go
no one cares about me
ask them what they like to do
they’ll only make fun of you
blow their asses all to hell
don’t you like that smell?

i wanna fly with the planes in the sky
no one listens to me
i wanna go where the other ones go
no one cares about me
ask them why they all complain
they won’t be able to explain
laugh at their incompetence
ask the nicest one to dance

“do you wanna? do you wanna dance?
do you wanna? do you wanna? do you wanna dance?”

do you wonder why everything’s slow?
do you wonder why you’re always the last to know?
all this thinking’s got you wiped
remember when you were ripe?
give yourself a kick in the pants
& ask the nicest one to dance…

PROMISES

i feel so down every day
you can’t make me go away
with you i will stay until i’ve driven you insane

i need something else to do
i’ll spend all my time with you
with you i will stay until you cannot stand the sight of me

and i will try not to break the ties that bind us
still, we might need someone to remind us

i feel so down every night
you can’t ever treat me right
with you i will stay until i get some kind of reaction

i need something else to do
i have had enough of you
with you i will stay until i’m sure you want to kill me

“love me, love me,” you say
“hold me, hold me in your arms”
“love me, love me,” you say
“never do me any harm”
but i can’t make you any promises

now i think i feel alright
i’m not so down every night
i’ll spend all my time with you
but i can’t promise i’ll be true

and i will try not to spit out a stream of cliches
i know they’ve outworn their welcome
they’ve seen better days
yes, i will try not to break the ties that bind me
i’ll probably forget if you don’t remind me

“love me, love me,” you say
“hold me, hold me till i die”
“love me, love me,” you say
“tell me it’s okay to cry”
but i can’t make you any promises

and i will try not to look you in the eye
but i can’t say for sure that i won’t lie
and another thing—it’s not okay to cry
but i can’t tell you why

“love me, love me,” you say
“hold me, hold me,” you say
“love me, love me,” you say