ANTIQUATED

Between yesterday and this morning I went through about 90 minutes of audio tape from Louisville and Chicago. The process will be slow at first, but eventually I will hit my stride and my pace will quicken. I shot off an email to Matthew Barnhart to see whether or not he was interested in putting together an interview to help flush out the Austin/Dallas/Denton portion of the text. I’d use this space to copy and paste segments of the audio transcriptions, but I don’t want to be doing that every day. I will soon.

While I was on the road I didn’t play much music or write any songs. When I was in Lubbock, Texas I asked the receptionist if I could perform some songs during the hotel’s cocktail hour. I played the quiet numbers (which, I guess, is all of them). Later that night I was talking to a friend and in the midst of our chat a dam in my head broke. Words started pouring out. There was an idea about what image I wanted to render. When we said good night I started humming this ascending and descending melody over a simple chord progression. I did this for maybe ten minutes and then put the guitar down. “I’ll give it some time,” I thought. The only other instance when I remember playing guitar after that night was in Sheridan, Wyoming when I played five or six songs for some biker couples in the parking lot of the Comfort Inn.

Yesterday I was daydreaming, grinding my teeth again, and I instinctively started humming that melody. All the words I couldn’t find before spilled from my mouth seamlessly. This marked the return of progress. The lull between waves of inspiration ceased.

Generally speaking, I’m pretty self-conscious about what I write. This goes for both prose and songwriting. I need to get over it at some point, but I can’t help imagine how trite it must all sound to someone who is better at harnessing the music of language. Nevertheless, I think “Song for Lubbock, Texas” is a step in the right direction.