Where do I even begin? Maybe this record was foreshadowing. A Harbinger. A dove or a pigeon with a note clamped in its beak. Maybe the Yeats quote that I took the title from was the future speaking through my own tongue. But that is all speculation. It was an explosion. Urgency. I even filled the booklet with activism in hopes of changing the world; which I still hope for. Which I will do. My god the booklet took forever. Hours and hours at KeelyÍs trying to learn photoshop.

Dana so patient again.

So after the crumbling of the band and the friendship and the studio, came a giant dust storm. Maybe it was sand, for it hurt my eyes. This time of my life was dark. I knew it then, but wasnÍt quite sure why. IÍm still not, but I do know that if nothing else it was a period of great transition. This record was somehow the death of a small, young, boy living inside of me afraid to grow up. A while before recording, I had befriended Jake Vander Zanden and we began playing music together. What a beautiful man. Such powerful energy in the way he stands and plays his bass. Much like the way he lives his life. The way he loves. So the story is impossibly long, but I called an old acquaintance to play drums. Paul Conte. We rehearsed very little (twice I think) and went into the studio wet behind the ears. Extremely wet. I remember the night before recording, sleeping in PaulÍs garage in San Francisco with Jake. Excited and nervous. I told Jake a funny story about my Dad and his underwear; I donÍt think I had ever seen Jake laugh that hard.

I built a shrine in my room in Davis before leaving. I wanted love from the universe. Candles and photos and flowers sending out my messages. Anyway, we drove. The studio was this filthy house out in Petaluma with litter covering the floor. So dirty that I felt embarrassed having selected the place. Somehow, with us so unprepared and Paul in a hurry to leave, we got most of the songs in one take. Conlon even came to watch and support. I only went back to that studio one other time. Dana went with me. She and I had pizza afterward at some place downtown. It was good. The making of the rest of the record was beautiful and amazingly taxing. I left that studio to finish the disc at a friend of PaulÍs who lived in Alameda. Ron Guensche. I had actually auditioned for “Andiamo”, a band that Ron and Paul were in years before, and had made such a fool of myself, that I was quite nervous. That day was the first time I had ever played with a drummer and bassist simultaneously.

I didnÍt even have a fucking amp.

I Borrowed this terrible old bass amp, that looking back must have seemed like a joke. I cried on my way home in the car. As it turns out, Ron didnÍt even remember having met me (until I brought it up about two months ago at which point we both had a good laugh) and Paul didnÍt seem to care. So Ron and I became friends sitting in that basement of his for months. I would drive down from Davis on weekends here and there, often spending the night on his futon. It seems unreal now sitting down there for so many hours. I missed Dana greatly, but my time there felt like work; like I hadnÍt a choice. Which was in all probability part of why she left. Anyway, I met Kristina then too. What an angel. She and Sarah were amazing. The first time I sat and played with them was the first time I had ever heard strings with my songs. Fuck. I nearly wept. My body shivering against the flesh of new sound.

My favorite part of the whole disc is on “the crazy nightmare” when everything but the strings disappear. My idea, but I didnÍt even compose it. I feel like I could write about this record forever. The songs are really intimate to me. Deeply so. Not sonically, but emotionally. Some people know what all of them are about. IÍve often found myself frustrated that my music is so personal, but it seems to be changing these days. There was a metaphor running throughout this record. The concept of pregnancy. Which held hands with DanaÍs paintings. Which were astounding. You are brilliant Dana, wherever you are. Truly brilliant. Your work could move the oceans. I thank you endlessly. Like I said, I could write forever but I wonÍt. Somehow, this record feels like my first child. Innocent and disgusting and perfect. Sticky and covered in blood, but eternally beautiful. Terribly so.

TRACK LISTING

1. Girl Running
2. The Crazy Nightmare
3. Where are we
4. Sorry My Love
5. Still a Young Boy (click to listen to the MP3)
6. We Warned You
7. Like a Beautiful Dress (click to listen to the MP3)
8. And Still Breathing
9. All These Empty Chairs
10. Unfinished