This was written on the same day that I wrote Flowers circa 2005. The recording was basically the same set up as Flowers, in that I played live with Tim on drums while strumming and singing. Immediately after, we added Sadie to the mix, she really makes the track for… Read More»
I wrote this in Pacifica, after a rough day at the bottom of an emotional well. I had to write it to light the way out, though it might’ve plunged me further. The original demo was done in one sitting, lyrics, melody and all. When I went in to record… Read More»
This is another song about long distances, which seems to be a common thread throughout this album. I recorded the basic guitar parts at home and had 2 verses written, with the last verse and chorus instrumental. A couple of months later, I was staying in a hotel room in… Read More»
This was supposed to be a psychedlic bossa nova, believe it or not. It ended up turning into a bit of an Elvis Costello inspired jam.
The band and I were rehearsing the song “Ulysses” at the recording session,and started messing around with the chord changes. We didn’t know it, but the recording engineers Bryce Gonzales and Kurt Kurasaki hit record and captured this little jam. I’m glad they did. I love Adam’s keyboard work on… Read More»
This is one of the oldest songs on the album, written shortly after I finished the Daylight Savings album. It’s a sad/hopeful song about long distances. The last line was my attempt at writing a Raymond Carver poem.
Odessa Chen writes beautiful, poetic, minor key songs that I like to describe as “wintery.” With this in mind, I wrote this tune. Somehow, it’s “Christmas-y” but without the cheer.
I have an early incarnation of this song with the lyrics “you listen, you listen” which eventually turned into “Ulysses.” I have no idea why, my only explanation is that it was some voice from beyond telling me that I needed to name it that. I wrote the riff with… Read More»
I was eating breakfast alone at a diner one morning and a little girl and her mom were at the next booth. The girl started singing and talking loudly, as young children do, and her mom said gently, “Sarah Rose, that’s not an inside sound.”