Last week I began (in earnest) the project of rehabbing Mount Everest. It wasn't necessarily broken or anything, just sort of spinning its wheels. I wanted to get back to the type of layered, multi-instrumental arrangements that once dominated my weekly practice on this website, having long been focused on my graduate studies, writing week after week of simple acoustic tunes to keep this project in existence. I hit a creative wall quickly after I began, and resigned to view my effort as more of a study than a complete idea, understanding that one must work to regain the thing he has put away for some time. This week I was resolved to put the in the work, and to find the frame of mind that it takes to write these kinds of songs again. It turned out that all I really needed to do was reach for my bass. It makes sense; it was, after all, my first among many musical loves, and has long sat neglected in the corner of my apartment. It also makes sense because a bass-line is a foundation, and when one needs confidence, one cannot stand upon shaky ground. I put down something solid, and the rest seemed to fall into place. This song didn't go everywhere I could have taken it, but I'm pleased with what I hear. I hope you are too.
lyrics
There's a kind of silhouette
An empty thing
That I dream of in the morning
When I focus on the face
I awake, shaken up again
And you say let it all out
On an evening in the spring
I was told
Many stories of the stranger
As I tried to understand
What it meant
To have listened to the rain
You said let it all out
Shaking slightly I'm aware
That everyone's
Got a measure of the chaos
Floating up above the earth
Two of us
Held together
And you let me get it all out