here + almost by air'n

“Here in the Land of the Living”

I wrote this song a little over twenty years ago on the late-70’s Guild acoustic that my older brother passed down to me. Someone else is writing with that guitar now—or it’s sitting in a pawn shop somewhere—but that’s a story for another day. I used to play this song at The String Shoppe (RIP) to try out guitars I would never buy. I also recall playing it live, nonstop for an hour, while a good friend and his father walked The Stations of the Cross at Milo Arts back in ‘01; & more recently, I played it as a prelude at my brother-in-law’s wedding. Strangely, I never saw it as anything more than an exercise; but more & more, I’ve begun to appreciate its meditative quality & its subtle hopefulness-in-the-midst-of-sadness offered in the tension between major & minor chords. With that discovery in mind, I chose a title that suggests a similar theme: it’s a line from Psalm 27:13, wherein David expresses his confidence—in spite of his circumstances—that he will see the goodness of the Lord on earth. Now, perhaps more than ever, that has become my prayer, too.

“Almost Afraid to Know Itself”

I wrote this song a little over six months ago—& there’s little doubt that it was a product of the bizarre season we’re in: it’s dark, somber & dirge-like. Its repetitive nature allows for listening without listening & that detached-attentiveness creates space to think & empathize & experience the world of emotions that I (for one) have often neglected in the busyness of my 21st century life—emotions that have welled-up in the solitude & loneliness of quarantine, & the heartache & sorrow of injustice & division. As with the first song, I chose a line from an often-cited source to capture the theme: pulled from Shakespeare’s Macbeth (Act IV Scene iii), it is a part of Ross’s report to Macduff about the condition of Scotland. His opening words—“Alas, poor country!”—precede the line I used for the title. How similar to our own situation: if we don’t take the time to know ourselves, we will never move beyond the point “where violent sorrow seems / A modern ecstasy.”

All proceeds from these recordings will benefit POEM (https://mhaohio.org/get-help/maternal-mental-health/about-poem-2/)