DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-ONE
TONIGHT!
SHAMELESS PLUG! (Because I know you like shameless)
WASHINGTON, DC ~ FRIDAY, MAY 14 @ 8pm
Emily Hope Price, Ugly Purple Sweater & Sonya Cotton
The New Community Church: 614 S Street Northwest, Washington, DC
In Keene last week, Anna Vogelzang, Guy Capecelatro and I played a venue called The Starving Artist. In this venue they had a few poetry books laying out with a few card games and such. The morning after our show, Guy and I were madly putting songs together while waiting for Anna to wake up (as we stayed the night right above the venue and got in the next morning to play around…). Guy began playing this uke part and I opened up an anthology of poetry to use as lyrics. The random poem that I opened to was Alice Friman’s The Squirrel. I used a portion of about two stanzas which occur in the middle. I linked to Google Books below to the entire poem which is found in Friman’s book called: Zoo.
The Squirrel by Alice Friman
The melody was mainly improvised as we were just writing as fast as we could with the time allotted us. In order to fit the general rhythm I felt we had going, I made some slight changes to the wording when necessary. I think it came out nice for an unprepared piece and might have some promise to work on a little bit further. Guy is a great inspiration for songwriting. He has a kind of abandonment I really need in times of writing trouble.
The Squirrel
Close the curtains Wrap us in hymns Twist all our hands something beautiful Bury it, bury it, bury it God, don’t open it. Don’t open it. Flesh, sorry flesh The dirt that dampens then smells
Rubbed glossies hidden Between mattress and box spring a little fat jammed between That closes, that closes when life doesn’t want us That closes when life doesn’t want us.
I need to read more poetry. I need to listen to every song on this blog.
I listened to the EP I bought from you, and I loved it. I still love it. I can’t stop listening.
Lovely. I can’t believe that this was just off the cuff! I could listen to you guys fiddle around all day.
Another example of randomness plus intention equalling something magical.