Friday, March 22, 2013

Brother’s Ghost



Sometimes songs just seem to write themselves, as if they're given to you or channeled from the ether.  Perhaps it was the subject matter and I was just open to emotion as it was nearing the 10th anniversary of my brother's death from heroin addiction, but that was the way it was with this song.  I was recording late one night, strumming some chords and singing whatever came to mind.  I played it back in the morning and most of the lyrics were there.  I just rearranged the lines, added a bit or two and there it was.  I wrote several songs over the next few days, felt very in tune.  It had probably been years since I had written anything.

I was there the night he died.  I had gone back to school for a second attempt at college and was home for spring break.  That night I had dinner with a friend and was out a bit late.  She's a priest now, a dear friend and one of my many friends that never met my brother.  My wife never met my brother.  When I pulled up to the house that night, his junk car full of garbage and whatever belongings he hadn't been able to pawn was there out front so I knew he was home.  My Grandfather had given him the car, it didn't look so good anymore.  I noticed the TV was on down in the basement where my brother usually was when he was there.  He had moved back in with my Mom and Dad after living in a halfway house for some time. He promised them he'd enter himself into a long term rehab facility and that he'd keep himself clean as long as he was at their house.  He did manage to get himself on the waiting list for rehab, but I knew he wasn't clean, I could just tell.  That night, I stood at the top of the stairs and contemplated going down to talk to him before going to bed, but I didn't.  I knew he'd be wasted.  I just stood there and closed my I eyes and wished for the nightmare to be over.  The next morning he was dead.

My brother was a big influence on me musically and in all sorts of ways good and bad.  He was always strumming and singing, you could always find him out on the deck with a smoke and his guitar and a smile. He almost always had a smile; no one could make my mom laugh the way he could.  He wrote a lot, had a ton of songs, I think a lot of them were about his high school girl friend.  She was at our house a lot in those days, was almost like a big sister there for awhile.  I would have loved to have had a big sister, especially one like her.  After my brother died, even though it had been probably 15 years or so since they had dated, she took the time to visit my folks on several occasions and reconnected with them which meant the world to all of us, especially my mom.  I think it was her that brought her back from the abyss.

A couple of years after I wrote Brother's Ghost, on our way driving through NY from Vermont, I decided I should try to drop in on her. She's married and has a couple of older kids, around the age she and my brother were when they dated.  They have a beautiful little farm there outside a cute little town and raise sheep. We had a lovely visit, albeit a brief one as our toddler was not in the mood for sitting still and my wife was anxious to get to her sister's place, our destination of the day. At the time I wasn't sure why I was so drawn to visit her; it might have been over 20 years since I had seen her and I'm generally not inclined do such things as I am a bit on the insular side.  In many ways, I am my brother's opposite.  But as we were exchanging hugs and saying our goodbyes, I looked in her eyes and felt a warmth and compassion that has remained with me even now.  They say the eyes are the window into the soul.  The rest of the day I thought a lot about my brother and our visit with his old friend and how beautiful she still was and how gracious she was to welcome us into her home and how thankful I was to have reconnected with her.

That night we were staying at my sister in-law's place in the Catskills, it's a cozy comfy little place that has big windows that frame the starry sky.  I fell asleep thinking about my brother and fell into the most vivid dream I can remember.  I dreamed I saw Mother Mary in the stars with big warm eyes and then it seemed there was no roof and I was lying under the brightest sky of stars I had ever seen. For a moment I was really startled and then a feeling of warmth came over me as if to tell me that everything was all right, that my brother was ok.

Happy Birthday brother.
BTF 3/20/1964 - 3/13/1999




Brother’s Ghost

Let me tell you a story about a man who some say had no glory
Out did himself, outside himself, died too young, he was always in a hurry
He said “I was a free man when it was 13, 13….”
Life ain’t what it seemed at 13
It feels so mean

He spent his days running wild, chasing dreams, and blowing clouds
And runnin’ them dogs through them slip streams
Runnin’ tables and telling fables, pushing brooms and selling heirlooms
We played your faded tunes through message balloons sailing over your stone tomb…

It’s so easy to slip away…. in my way, in my way
It’s so easy to loose your way…. in my day, in my day
I feel so tired, I feel so hazy, life feels so hard, feels so crazy
I feel so tired, I feel so mean, I feel everything in between
But my brother’s ghost
He haunts me most...

I remember one September, it was oh so cold, oh so cold
Had the shiver outside by the river in the sun
I saw him there, I saw him there, I swear I saw him there
He took a boot strap to the chin, I heard him say: “that’s my brother let him in”

“Give him peace lord, give him love
Thank your lucky stars brother, push and shove
Forgive me brother the stairs above
The pusher man comes with a silken glove”

It’s so easy to slip away…. in my way, in my way
It’s so easy to loose your way…. in my day, in my day
I feel so tired, I feel so hazy, life feels so hard, feels so crazy
I feel so tired, I feel so mean, I feel everything in between
But my brother’s ghost
He haunts me most...

 “Forgive me Mother, I love you most…”
Forgive me brother, I miss our mother most


I have several versions recorded, none of which deserve the light of day at this point.  At the time, I had recently discovered Paul Curreri which inspired me to start playing again.  I saw a poster of his at Ashland Coffee and Tea and decided to check him out and was blown away.  Many of his songs have a lot of words per line which make for challenging phrasing which he does beautifully.  Consciously or subconsciously I think with this song I tried to emulate his style a bit.  The best version I ended up with though (at least the one my wife seemed to like best) had an electronica, trance-like backing track that I created with Cakewalk's Rapture Synth. and the vocals were sung a bit rap like.  There's a Bluegrass version and a strummed version in the style similar to how my brother played that works pretty well with guitar soloing over it (all acoustic). Recently, having revisited this song for this Blog, I came up with yet another version I like that I may have to explore that would probably work best with a band.

I always seem to get the best results from one of the first takes, I'll get the feel I'm going for, but it will be full of flaws.  My singing is in dire need of Autotune among other things and I'm in need of a lot of practice which I find hard to find time for when I won't be disturbing the rest of the family or when I'm not bleary-eyed tired.  I don't like to sing in front of people, even my wife.  I'll sing for the kids, but that's about it.  Maybe one day I'll get that sound proof man cave.

Bardo Rodeo



It is interesting to me what sparks creativity, and where those sparks may lead, almost as interesting as the finished song itself; one always comes away with much more than a song or poem or whatever the final product may be.  I was learning to play Skyway by the Replacements, a bittersweet song about a missed romantic connection on the Minneapolis Skyway and a few days later I'm writing a blog.  

As I was learning Skyway, I kept thinking about my own missed and lost connections over the years.  Sadly, there have been way too many and of all kinds, not just romantic ones I might add.  As far as I know, we don't get any do-overs, not in this life anyways and if we did, what would I go back and do over?  I'm not sure how I got to where I am now, how I managed to get through it all in one piece and ended up with a such a great women and mother, someone who puts up with all my crap and antics.  My job could be more exciting, but all in all I'm in a pretty good place these days.  A beautiful wife and adorable kids, a nice house,  I wouldn't trade them for the world.  I think we all have those missed connections, "the one that got away" and wonder what things would be like if a choice here or a choice there were made differently.  The Butterfly effect.  Would a simple phone call and a second date have been just a ripple in my journey through this life or a life changing hurricane?  I don't know why I never called her, I guess that's what gnaws at me the most.  I'm sure I was just a blip on her radar, but it was an exciting time that summer, and the best first date I ever had.  Oh well, at least I can write my own bittersweet song and sing it to the babies as they fall asleep. To Amanda, my long hair and the adventure that was the bike trip of the summer of 95 and to learning new songs and following sparks. Now if I can just learn how to play it and sing it like Bruce Springsteen or Willie Nelson or Paul Westerburg for that matter...and figure out how to explain it to my wife.


With My Blue Eyes They’ll Be Wet


I grow these roses in my garden, 
sprinkle them with dust of dreams 
I strap them to my savior, 
and I roll from sea to sea

They say there’s a girl in San Francisco, 
with flowers in her hair and a heart of gold 
But she was sittin' in a bar in ole D.C., 
when I saw her lookin' up at me
 
She said her dad catches squirrels in Boston; 
she moves them by the light of the moon 
I said you know I’m leaving tomorrow, 
but I’ll be back around real soon
 
Fell in love at Bardo Rodeo, 
back in time where we can’t go
Fell in love at Bardo Rodeo, 
losin' faith but she don't know

Now I line this garden with my roses of regret
The agents of your good roots calling, 
with my blue eyes I'll be waiting
And my blue eyes they’ll be wet

Fell in love at Bardo Rodeo, 
back in time where we can’t go
Fell in love at Bardo Rodeo, 
she's losin' faith but I don't know

Now I line roses in my garden, 
sprinkled with the dust of my dreams 
Line them with rattles and bows, 
and watch her as she grows

Now she wears roses in my garden. 
With whispers and dust of humility,
I give her to my savior
 
And roll, roll, roll, roll
Roll, roll, roll, roll
Roll, roll, roll
 
To the sea
 



I have several versions of this one as well.  Originally, when I was writing it, it was kind of a slow country-rock type song, in the vein of  The Weight by The Band.  The more I worked on it though I kept hearing Willie Nelson or Patsy Cline singing it as a slow traditional country ballad, but not being able to work out the chording as to fit the melody in my head, I recorded a lighter sounding, faster tempo Country version with my best country twang which I think could work really well, (just not with me singing).  One evening I changed the chord progression around and the way I was picking/strumming it and stumbled on a a moodier, slower version that I really like that would sound great with the Boss singing in his I'm On Fire voice or someone soulful like Michael McDonald .  One can always dream right?