The Great Consolidation

I Choose You - the perfect murder/suicide jam for your Halloween party!

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Fri, 02 Nov 2018 04:16:00 +0000

This year’s Halloween Hit was inspired by my favorite episode of the FX show, Atlanta: “Teddy Perkins” (Season 2 Episode 6). You can stream it on FX, Amazon, iTunes, Hulu and others. Though consistent with the season’s “Robbin' season” theme, this episode (written by Donald Glover, Ibra Are and Taofik Kolade; directed by Hiro Murai) is an anomaly in that it was horror themed and aired without commercials. The episode was critically acclaimed and fairly controversial due to its bizarre antagonist and cryptic ending.

Research

I consumed and contemplated every theory I could find online, read all published interviews and analysis (here's a fascinating scene-by-scene with the brilliant director that offered a few insights). I could find very little insight provided anywhere by any of the writers. There remains much conjecture over Teddy's identity, nearly all of which fits into one of these scenarios:

Teddy is Benny’s brother and caretaker/tormentor.
Teddy is a deranged fan/caretaker who wants to assume Benny’s identity.
"Teddy" is Benny and Benny's dad is in the wheelchair.
"Teddy" is Benny and the real Teddy, his brother, is in the wheelchair.
"Teddy" is Benny’s dad and Benny is in the wheelchair.
Teddy and Benny are the same person.

I watched the episode 13 times in total: five during my initial research, six in which I viewed through the lens of each of the various scenarios, then two more focused through the lens of scenario 6, my favorite. With each viewing my appreciation grew, as the episode seemed meticulously designed to accommodate multiple identities and thematic layers.

Writing

I chose to believe that Teddy and Benny are two sides (or "eras" might be more appropriate) of one person. I think Glover is borrowing from David Lynch's playbook here (he did at one point state that he wanted Atlanta to be "Twin Peaks with rappers"), blending literal and metaphorical imagery. They seem to represent opposing methods (or stages?) of coping with abuse and fame; one becomes a recluse and hides from the world while the other wears a mask and glorifies the abuser, perpetuating the cycle of abuse. Those two manifestations are cloistered in a soon-to-be-historical site, gnawing at each other (a situation borrowed from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane). Teddy is trying to capitalize on their pain while also silencing Benny and giving away his beloved piano. Putting them in the same room in the episode's climax is a perfect twist that both surprises and confuses the audience (and seemingly, Teddy himself).

Some observations that support this theory:

Teddy is not visible in any of the photos or film footage.
Teddy does not appear to have his own music career, despite claiming that their father made them both practice "3 hours a day, twice a day."
The two are wearing nearly identical clothes and have the same James Brown helmet hair.
Teddy claims Benny has developed a skin condition, even while he himself looks like he be bleachin.
When Teddy confronts Darius with the shotgun, there is a very intentional shot of Teddy's profile silhouetted opposite the young Benny.
Teddy aiming the gun at Darius: “I want it to look real… The home invasion. You killed Benny because you were obsessed.” Darius: “There is no fucking Benny, all right?” Teddy: "Exactly! Exactly!"

Once I determined how I wanted to portray the protagonist(s), I identified the themes I wanted to incorporate:

Some fathers sacrifice their children
Great things come from great pain
The whitewashing of a painful heritage
Perpetuating the cycle of abuse
Our culture forgives and ignores abuse that results in great art
Our culture criticizes and ridicules celebrities that fall from grace
The trauma and aftermath of celebrity

I also made a list of the musical elements that might comprise something Teddy/Benny would create:

The jazz piano of Ahmad Jamal
The ragtime melodies and passing tones of Scott Joplin
The childlike soulful vocals of Michael Jackson
The 70's and 80s synths of Stevie Wonder
The rhythm and bass syncopation of James Brown

Iterations

Over two weeks I made four iterations; each new sketch was more somber and downtempo than the last, and contained less and less of the musical elements I'd planned for. I was about halfway done with a version that I quite liked when I abandoned it for the final version. Musically I liked it but lyrically it wasn't working for me; it read like a monologue by Teddy, revering his father and hinting at abuse. The more I thought about the duality I wanted to depict, the more I wanted the song to feature two perspectives at war over one body and one version of its history. The final version used fairly minimal instrumentation and featured two mutations of my voice trading verses (mid-range register for Benny and disconcerting falsetto for Teddy) and eventually harmonizing. I intended the "conversation" of this song to take place before Teddy decides to silence Benny by giving away his piano.
Here are some snippets of those unused iterations:

Iteration 1 - combining a chop of Ahmad Jamal's "Piano Solo 11" (heard playing from Benny's room in the episode) with some James Brown rhythm.
Iteration 2 - combining a chop of only the passing tones in Scott Joplin's "Solace" (played by Benny in the old footage scene) with a slowed down James Brown rhythm.
Iteration 3 - combining a Curtis Mayfield/Marvin Gaye vocal approach with some Motown elements, a 6/8 shuffle often employed by Stevie Wonder and James Brown, and (eventually) a modern-ish hook with Stevie synths.

Production

I tried a few things on this production that I'd never attempted:

I recorded the instruments tuned to 432hz (rumored to have been used by Prince, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, and others) because there's a mysticism surrounding that tuning that I could see Teddy buying into, and also I wanted to see if listening to it affected my brain state. I don't know if it did but I did find it slightly easier to sing in key, which made me wonder if my voice has some sort of natural tuning that I've been unwittingly raging against my whole life.
I recorded the vocals at different speeds and pitches so they would sound a bit odd once played at normal speed—Teddy's vocal (the falsetto) to a version of the instrumental that was pitched/slowed down about 6 bpm, and Benny's vocal to a version sped/pitched up by 6 bpm. To make things weirder (and considerably harder to sing in tune), I automated a gradual 6 bpm tempo/pitch shift for each (in opposite directions) throughout the last verse so that the vocals, played back at normal speed, would evolve back into my natural timbre .
I automated the panning of the vocals to start pretty far apart and end up centered when the last word is sung.
I used a very cool Roland Space Echo simulator by Audiothing to make the Maestro Rhythm King drum machine sound more Phil Collins.
I used a very cool Vintage Reverb plugin by Valhalla (and some research on gearslutz.com) to model a reverb often heard on old Marvin Gaye records.
I used a free Vinyl simulation plugin from Izotope to add some grit and warble to the final mix, as well as the pitch dive at the end.

The mix most likely suffered a bit due to the last-minute nature of the whole thing—I wrote, recorded and produced the song inside of 48 hours. If all goes according to plan, I'll be a bit bummed on it when I listen back next halloween.

Lyrics

Benny: I keep my piano in the bedroom
so I can sleep that close to freedom, still
sometimes I chew my fingers more than I should
til they bleed.
Father always said to keep my color off the keys.

Teddy: I show my trophies in the gift shop
and pose my father in the billiard room.
I want the house to be a tribute to him—
a museum.
And though some may try,
my father’s love can never die.

Benny: Of all the vampires, kings and thieves
dropping by to harvest me,
none shall pay a higher price
than he who shares my bed at night.

Benny and Teddy (equal): I choose you
I choose you
I choose you to carry his pride
I choose you
I choose you
I choose you to be his sacrifice

Benny and Teddy (dominant): I keep my Hope locked in the basement—
can’t let the dark get out
or the light get in.
I find that hope is not so good for my skin,
or my throat.
I don’t know what it is...
I guess it’s just the way that I cope.

Benny (dominant) and Teddy: I'll get the shotgun from the attic
and leave our body on the lobby floor.
Then when she finds us, Sam will clean up the mess,
drive out east
—somewhere meaningless—
to bury father’s masterpiece.

A Letter to a Young Marketer

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Thu, 16 Nov 2017 00:41:00 +0000

Hi Jordanna,

So you've got a new band, new album and big record release party coming up—awesome! Rather than give you a marketing prescription for your exact needs (which is probably what you hoped for), I want to lay some high level strategy on you.

Many artists just blast all their networks with whatever content they can muster. If the content is good they may get some traction here and there, but ultimately I think this is a flawed approach. The few successful, completely independent artists I know avoid any sort of magical thinking and embrace the reality that being a musician these days requires a plethora of additional skill sets, business and marketing being two of the most crucial (web development, graphic design, audio engineering, video production, management and concert booking are par for the course). During my time working for social, email and mobile marketing companies, I noticed a huge disparity between the way businesses approach marketing and the way most musicians do. Successful businesses focus on strategy and ROI (“return on investment”) while musicians focus on creative ideas and fan engagement, with less attention to strategy. Perhaps this is why so many of us are often broke and a large percentage of our promotions fall short of expectations. The more strategic you can get, the more impactful your campaigns will be. Rid yourself of any notion that content miraculously goes “viral”—nearly all viral content is the result of a calculated launch by a marketing team. It’s not black magic and it’s not luck; it’s strategy, money and data analysis. Here's how one of my favorite songwriters, Lex Land put it:

“My personality makes me ill equipped for self-promotion, which is unfortunately so necessary as an independent artist. Of course, this evasion led me to adopt the all-too-prevalent ‘pray and wait’ strategy that so many artists employ. After receiving countless "breaks" but never really "breaking," and during a years-long stall in the release of my third album, I adopted a new mantra: "What can I do?" Diving into a ton of different informational resources about digital and content marketing, and specifically in the music space, I experienced enlightening breakthroughs while taking a hard look at what I had been doing and what hadn't been working. To adopt any strategy is better than having no strategy at all.”

You can find buckets of marketing guides and philosophies online—often as a downloadable pdf behind some obnoxious email capture form landing page—each tailored to what is being sold (goods, services, entertainment, etc.) and what channels it's being sold on (print, TV, social, radio, blogs, etc.). Tasks like calibrating your ads and writing an impactful press release are crucial skills that anyone who can read can learn. Do it. Google. Read.

Below is a 7-step marketing strategy you could apply as an independent musician. Depending on what level you’re at career-wise, this process may feel overly formal, cumbersome or even pointless to you because your budget is $0 or your goal/tactics appear obvious, but I encourage you to build a habit of thinking through these steps and articulating your answers to them; training your brain to switch out of "imaginative artist" mode and into "real-world, ROI-focused, pragmatic business" mode will focus and optimize your team efforts, increase your income, help you assess the value and productivity of 3rd party publicists and make hard career decisions faster.

1) Define your Goal for this Marketing Campaign.
It should be measurable. Walk through the creation flows of Facebook/Instagram Ads, Google Adsense and Twitter Ads to help hone your objective.

2) Declare your Success Metrics and key Performance Indicators, as well as how you will track them.
How will you know if you achieved your goal? How will you know if you’re on track to meet your goal? Don't confuse the warm feeling you get from Likes, Comments, Retweets etc. for success—their only marketing significance is how they influence your ranking in the feed algorithm. Don't be fuzzy about your definition of success for this campaign.

3) Identify your Target Audience.
Who exactly will this campaign resonate with? Who can actually attend your event or purchase your product?
[Note: “customer profile,” “segment,” and “target demographic” all mean basically the same thing in this context]

4) Plan your Marketing Tactics.
This is where your creativity comes in! Each tactic should clearly and effectively help you meet your Marketing Campaign Goal. If your primary goal is to get people to come to your show, then any marketing that is not region-targeted is probably overkill (unless you're explicitly soliciting referrals). If your primary goal is to make money from a new release, then encouraging your audience to listen to your new release on any and all platforms is not as ideal as directing all traffic to the platform that pays you the best percentage (e.g. not Spotify, Youtube or Pandora). What results can be realistically expected? Be skeptical.

5) Calculate a reasonable, realistic Budget.
Think through all potential costs, even things that seem incidental (like gas, public transportation, staples, tape, etc.). INCLUDE YOUR UNPAID HOURS. Budget will probably be the hardest thing to estimate accurately at first, but you’ll get better at it, and its massively important as your cash flow increases and ROI becomes more calculable/provable. In the future you will use these skills to extract bigger chunks of money from labels and banks.

6) Define a Schedule for your tactics that is optimized to meet your goals.
This is particularly important when relying on social networks for the majority of your promo, and when trying to inspire action on a specific date. Think through when your audience would actually be most receptive to your message. Don’t blast your social networks all at once; there are ideal times to publish on each network. And since many people will follow you on multiple networks, you’re wasting your bullets when you promote to them across all networks at once… better to stagger your posts so that viewers are reminded periodically. Determine the right order for each task (if you have to wait until next week before sending your press release, you should have a few drafting/revision sessions and an industry contact list gathering task scheduled for this week). Schedule regular reviews of your Success Metrics and Budget. Use a group calendar and set up alerts in your phone for each task.

7) Do a Postmortem. Learn and iterate on what worked and didn’t work.
This is the most important step, and the most often forgotten. Be frank and honest with yourself—it's not a blamefest, it's a crucial learning opportunity.

Here's how it might look in the context of your life:

Life Objective 1: Secure a family

Family Goal: Find and maintain a partner that can pay my bills
Family Goal: Acquire a child that can pay my bills

Life Objective 2: Sustain a career as a Performing Artist

Career Goal 1: Develop 300+ draw in NYC so that I can headline small venues on a weekend night, trading support slots with out-of-town acts.

Marketing Campaign 1: Secure impactful slots opening for prominent local acts
Marketing Campaign 2: Promote record release show <—we are here

Goal
Success Metrics and Performance Indicators
Target Audience
Marketing Tactics
Budget
Schedule
Postmortem

[Note: At this point you should have already justified how a proposed Marketing Campaign will help achieve one or more of your Career Goals]

And now here’s how your specific scenario might look:

Marketing Campaign 2: Promote record release show

Goal: I want at least 75 people to attend my record release party. The promoter, who also books a larger venue, will then consider us for national support slots in the future.
Success metric: Ticket sales (night of the show)
Performance indicators: Ticket presales, Facebook Event RSVPs, Bandsintown RSVPs, Songkick RSVPs
Target Demographic: All genders between the ages of 21 and 38 in the NY/NJ area.
Marketing tactics:

Tactic 1 (Physical): Hang flyers in high-traffic areas (above urinals, front window, etc.) at or near venue.
Tactic 2 (Physical): Send compelling press release, photo and show details to all local print for inclusion in their Events section and possible feature.
Tactic 3 (Online): Synchronize show announcement and centralize Facebook Event traffic. Get promoter and all bands on the bill driving traffic to one Event page with links to ticket purchase, free music, and photos for all bands. Invite only those in the region. Encourage friends to invite their friends to Event.
Tactic 4 (Online): Pay to Boost Facebook Event page, escalating budget the week of the show. Run Facebook ads on various content starting two weeks from show, always promoting a URL with show info and ticket purchase.
Tactic 5 (Online): Get a local music scene blog to premier the single from my new forthcoming album and announce show; use blog post as new content and increased legitimacy.
Tactic 6 (Online): Coordinate with all performers to schedule the addition of new content to the Event page every week and stagger social posts and profile photo/banner updates from personal and band accounts using photos, short videos, streaming content, etc. initially driving traffic to the Facebook Event, and eventually alternating between FB page, direct streaming content link, direct ticket sale link, etc. so as not to annoy audience. Be sure all parties involved Like, Comment, and Retweet each other's posts soon after posting to exploit feed algorithms.
Tactic 7 (Online): Offer free download (using Bandcamp promo code) to anyone who posts a photo of their purchased ticket (or similar testimonial content) online.

Budget: $80, 40 hours unpaid labor

$25 for targeted Facebook ads and boosted Event
$15 for color flyers, staples and tape
$40 for band photoshoot to be used for social posts and profiles photos
40 unpaid hours (log hours in online solution or phone app)

Schedule:

Week 1 (this week):

Mon: Design incredible flyer/promo images. [4 hr]
Tues: Write fascinating press release with show details, ticket purchase info, promo image, and private streaming link. Send to team for feedback and revise. [3 hr]
Tues: Gather local print Events Page editor contact list from online search and industry friends. [1 hr]
Wed: Use Mailchimp to send press release to contact list at 9am. [1 hr]
Thu: Print $10 worth of color fliers at Staples. [1 hr]
Thu: Hang color fliers at the venue and nearby coffeeshops. [1 hr]
Fri: Create potent Facebook event page and give promoter and other performers "admin" status. [1 hr]
Sun: Everyone announce show and invite friends to FB Event at 9pm. [1 hr]

Week 2:

Mon: Tweet link to FB Event at 1 p.m. or 5 p.m
Tues: Send follow up email to weekly print Events page editors. [1.5 hr]
Wed: Share FB Event to personal FB pages at 3pm.
Thu: Post promo image to Instagram at 8:30am.
Fri: Change profile image of personal page, include link in description.
Sat: Share FB Event to personal FB pages at noon.
Sun: Review success metrics. Adjust budget? [1 hr]
Sun: Boost FB Event page for 7 days by $7.

Week 3

You get the point...

Week 4:
Week 5:
Week 6:

Postmortem:

:) I achieved and exceeded my goal with 82 paid concert goers!
:( I went over budget by $20 due to the fact that I set up the FB ad budget incorrectly.
:( I worked an extra 1.5 unpaid hours due to traveling to and from printer and venue to hang fliers
:( I worked an extra 2 unpaid hours on researching and contacting local blogs.
:| Facebook Event RSVPs (111) were 35% higher than actual attendance (82).
:| Likes and Comments subsided during weeks 3-5; maybe I got too markety?

So there's my stab at it. In reality I rarely take the time to draft something with this level of detail, but the important thing is that you start thinking like a business when it's time to promote your work.

A few other tips:

Learn as much as you can about the various social network algorithms and exploit them. For instance, to determine if users find your video interesting (and therefore worth showing to others), Facebook tracks user behaviors like turning on sound and switching to HD. So it may be beneficial to include text in your video or description encouraging users to turn their sound on or switch to HD (which should also provide better sound quality). The algorithms of Instagram, Reddit and Twitter each have their own interest-ranking metrics that they track, each playing a huge role in your social marketing success.
More from Lex Land about her current marketing strategy: “The end-goal is to capture emails of fans or potential fans with whom I can build a relationship, and then monetize that email list by running quarterly promotions and alerting them of live performances in their area. I believe that social media should be viewed as a traffic generation and rapport-building tool rather than the sole point-of-contact for fans. Social sites are excellent for 'blasts' because of the visibility and daily use by most folks, and the ability to use retargeting on Facebook, especially, is invaluable- but, still, an email list is the only thing we as artists can carry with us through the ever-changing landscape of whatever platform is currently trending, or even from being on a major label to going independent. With a strong email list, we have leverage - to get better guarantees, to get better features, to get noticed by industry if that's what we're after. I think it's crucial that we fortify our bond with the consumer of our music to garner that leverage, rather than waiting for 'something nice' to happen to us that might bring the fans our way someday. All of this requires us to be more vulnerable, to open up more of our lives and ourselves to our fans, to be more assertive about that connection we can bridge between us and them through our music. This has perhaps been the best takeaway from what I've learned, to cultivate a more honest perspective about what I and my music have to offer other humans.”
Read this book

Good luck with the album and release show! Don’t quit when your campaigns fail; quit when you stop learning from your failures. You don't get anywhere by having lofty goals—you get there by optimizing the system you use to reach them.

Gavin

The Weirdest Trophy

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 17 Oct 2016 22:33:00 +0000

I landed on your golf course late last night

I camped up in a tree, sharpening my knives and aim.

I came to hunt the strangest game.

Rest assured, big man,

I only wanna bring you fame.

And when the sun came up I was primed for the kill

I waited in a sand trap, armed to the gills

but no,

you never made it to the second hole.

Now I know that we should only hunt the best of a species

and everything about this dude is definitely feces

but none of us have ever seen a skull as thick as his!

Let me take that big weight off your shoulders!

Let me help you out of all that old loose skin—

we can make you something great again

(It’s a rare thing to see)

Now your head could be the most peculiar trophy that I’ll ever win.

I climbed to the window of your penthouse suite and

saw you dancing in your bathrobe, hookers at your feet

but no gun;

nothing you could shoot but crack.

I try to play by the rule: only kill what could kill you back.

But then you walked to the window, dripping in wealth.

Were you looking at me or were you staring at yourself?

Who knows…

until you go and drop that robe :(

Now I know you thought that you were simply humping your reflection,

but where I come from that’s a textbook gesture of aggression.

You left me with no other choice but to destroy you from the neck down!

Let me take that big weight off your shoulders!

Let me help you out of all that old loose skin—

You’ll be more human than you’ve ever been. Please!

Let me take that big weight off your shoulders!

Let me help you out of all that old loose skin—

We can make you something great again

(It’s a rare thing to see)

Now your head could be the most peculiar trophy that I’ll ever win.

I smash through the window

and I knock you on your back.

To show you my respects

I disconnect and drop my mask.

Then suddenly I lose you in the room without a trace—

you blend into the background with your fire-colored face!

Let me take that big weight off your shoulders!

Let me help you out of all that old loose skin!

I’ve hunted everything from Xenomorphs to Carl Weathers…

Special Forces, Tarzan, fuckers with their shit together.

No one ever pulled a spineless stunt like this before—

Cowardice on par with Killers in the Three World War!

By the time I get my mask back on this gorgeous face,

the Orange One is gone and I’ve become a big disgrace!

I don’t care who you are back in the world—

you ghost me again… I’ll bleed you… real quiet

The Man Who Knows Best

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 17 Oct 2016 22:20:00 +0000

The Man Who Knows Best

Come tell me my fortune, old prophets and priests!

Come teach from the book that’s so often revised!

Explain how I look from my savior’s eyes!

Ain’t it miraculous how you can preach from your knees?

No food for the beggar, no love for the thief…

No room for the other in the company you keep.

And who is my Lord now: is it father or son?

Well the old gods are dead and there’s only one left

to the man who know’s best for everyone.

When will the punchline come?

Come make my life easier, young technologists!

Just outsource and automate all of my needs…

improve the design of my final disease

and fix all my problems before they exist.

The hand that you build may be used as a fist,

but you’ll define “progress” however you wish

and what kind of world will we have when you’re done?

Destiny’s manifested—a virtual success

for the man who knows best for everyone.

When will the punchline come?

You gotta make my hometown safe, brave Mr. Politician!

Who’s gonna save my kids from terrorist commie heathens?

Who’s gonna make them pay the ultimate price for freedom?

Everybody outside’s trying to pop the bubble we live in.

What if their truth isn’t self-evident?

And if they can’t live without what is broken within?

“Well there’s no eye to eye so don’t even try,”

says the man who knows why for everyone.

When will the punchline come?

Come sing me a soundtrack, my artist and friend!

Come make my life feel much more real than it’s been.

You used to sing all that I couldn’t explain

and now you just buy those you can’t entertain,

So march to the drum of the numb and the young…

you’re the man who knows best for everyone.

When will the punchline come?

Team Love

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 20 Jul 2015 02:10:00 +0000

Team Love

Maybe it’s semantics but I don’t believe in love….

as a noun

I think it’s only a verb

because I know I can’t run out of it,

I know I can’t hold onto it,

but I can own the conduits

and make sure they work.

Well, well, well

well sometimes they do

and sometimes they don’t

and sometimes you have to fix the come and go

I’m just a bit addicted to the tops and tails of loving

it starts just like a sudden rain

on fields of baked and brittle crop

and ends just like a housing market crash

when delusions finally stop

Ahhhh

I love those twin peaks

that help suspend that thin bridge

which spans across the most impossible love

But everything between I seem to struggle with

when everything is calm I feel inadequate

I get passive.

Loving’s never passive.

No, no, no, no

I never really learned to love effectively

I only seem to love in ways I want to be

I don’t aim right.

Loving should be precise.

When love was just a noun I could run up a tab lying down

coasting on the fallacy of constant love

but in reality I think we love in fits and starts

and everything between is just a promised heart. Hey!

I know it’s not romantic but sometimes I think we never truly love another being so much as the sensation of loving

Perhaps the height of happiness is nothing more miraculous than optimized giving and receiving in perfect rhythm

and it’s hard to find…

it’s so hard to find…

it’s hard to find someone with rhythm like mine.

If I want to be a great man, (if I wanna be a great man)

I will be forever working, (I will be forever working)

and I’ll be fixing up my inputs and my outputs

I will learn to love and be loved from any direction

If I could do that

I would never be lonely

If I could do that

I would be so patient

If I could do that

I would never withhold loving

If I could do that

I would never concern myself with reciprocation

I’d never let someone be a bottleneck of my loving.

I’d learn to feed the world and by the world be fed.

If I could fix the stitching of our broken language,

I could be sewn into the soil rather than hanging by a thread.

We have one word for so many different relations…

from child love to inanimate objects

Now is this because we don’t value love?

or because we know it’s a concept so simple and binary

it’s easy to confuse it with the memory or the promise of

impossible love.

Expensive Love

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 20 Jul 2015 02:10:00 +0000

Expensive Love

There's a drip in the tub that I just can't fix

and I can't find a rug to cover up the skidmarks from where your feet kept losing ground.

You were carving up a tomb from the home I found.

I could afford the surgery,

and I could absorb the cost of drugs,

but I just needed some sort of guarantee

that you'd see me through

Dear Lu

Loving you is so expensive

Loving you is so expensive, darling

Loving you is so expensive, Lumey,

I knew you had to go but didn't know it'd be so costly

You got a little bit sicker when you came on tour

but still you stood right by me 'til your legs were sore

and it was hard to leave you out in the van some nights…

sometimes you gotta do wrong to make the long term right.

But then you got much worse when I took the job -

I had to leave work late and get up at ungodly hours to get out of all the debts I owed.

Maybe you couldn't see the man for the brand new clothes,

but everything else was much improved.

We ate our weight in brand-name foods.

I became the father you never knew

but it was too late

Dear Lu

Loving you is so expensive

Loving you is so expensive, darling

Loving you is so expensive, Lumey,

I knew you had to go but didn't know how much it’d cost me

Loving you…

I knew you had to go,

but didn’t know

I didn’t know

didn’t know

I didn’t know

Where Is the Fire?

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 20 Jul 2015 02:10:00 +0000

Where is the Fire?

Everyone says to forgive myself first,

but my heart is as dark as the dirt

in your black fur

in the deep hole

in the dark night outside

I don't want forgiveness I just wanna see you again

and I would burn in hell just to hold my friend.

If I'd got there a little bit sooner…

If I'd shut my fucking computer…

You'd still be here

painting our house with your dander and calm.

Maybe I was trying to keep from feeling out of control

but now I would burn in hell just to feel at all.

I’m so numb I can’t resolve.

So where is the fire?

Where is the fire?

Bring me the fire.

Will you remember the middle of things?

Or will I be judged by my butcherous endings,

all clumsy and wrong?

My book-ending shame

I’d sell for a song

to sing in your name.

Where’s my heart in all this?

Is it speaking?

I’ve not heard a thing…

Am I just holding on too tight?

Or letting go too easy?

Nothing feels quite right…

my everything is freezing.

Where is the fire?

Bring me the fire.

Where is the fire?

Watering the Soil

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 20 Jul 2015 02:09:00 +0000

Water the Soil

On the stone I carved your name

on my heart, the chiseled flame-like

permanence

but there's no permanence

that’s just some shit we say in fear

to help us pass the years

I was lost and couldn't sleep

with you distant from my feet,

my perfect son,

what have I done?

I put you in the ground tonight

out beside the house

by the window light

I laid out there in our blanket

and imagined you were kicking in your sleep

just three feet below

where your father weeps

In the morning I came to

Did you hear me calling you

I listened then

with pressing ear,

"You're not alone - I'm here,

watering the soil

just above you, dear"

Underestimate Me

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 20 Jul 2015 02:08:00 +0000

Underestimate Me

I felt you leaving

in November

after I drove up to see you

I read between your thinning lines of texts

and busy weekends

I knew the truth but I asked you to give it to me straight

but you underestimated me

I know that boy

is so pretty

with his New York sensibilities

I know you float

on a tide of lusting users

so you don’t see how I could feed you like all of those youthful things

but you underestimated me

‘cause I would provide for you

(maybe not in the fiscal sense)

but I would provide for you

(uh, baby no more than just two kids)

I mean… I’d make a space for you to be

the wonder you are to me

the wonder you are for me

the rare thing you are to see

the best person you can be

Now that you’ve blazed me

once again

I won’t be running back to Washington

I won’t be hoping that you’ll understand

I won’t be begging you to choose…

My throat is tight, my heart is loose.

So I’ll just remember how you made me forget the world all around me

while the world still reminds me of you.

A Letter to a Young Lyricist

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Sat, 31 Jan 2015 19:36:00 +0000

Hi Matt,

Thanks for taking an interest in my work! Congrats on your decision to pursue music. As I'm sure you're aware, it's a long painful journey with lots of sacrifices but more fulfillment than the average career, I'd bet.

I suspect that my lyrical proclivities are a bit abnormal, so I'm not sure my approach is worth replicating, but I'm happy to tell you my personal philosophy and opinion in regard to prose/lyrics:

1) Read everything. A writer without a thorough grasp of the english language and the myriad of ways brilliant people have been exploiting it for centuries is like a drummer without rudiments... she might hit a few nice pockets, but she won't have the means to get acrobatic and will work much harder at phrasing than one with a diverse vocabulary and historical knowledge. Watch people like Van Dyke Parks, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, and Bob Dylan speak in interviews. It’s not a coincidence that they are some of the greatest lyricists of all time.

2) Listen to everything. Dissect the lyrics that really impact you. Figure out why they were so effective. Early in my development I was impacted by the lyrics of Rufus Wainwright, Joanna Newsom, Perry Farrell, Black Thought, Thom Yorke, Pharaoh Monch, Mos Def, Bjork, MF Doom, etc., but it took me too long to understand why. As someone that wants to increase my lyrical arsenal, it would be wise for me to listen both as an average listener and as a word engineer, and articulate why a phrase impacts me the way it does, so I can apply it to my work.

3) Live through everything. A lyricist is just a journalist in a poet’s jacket. Even fiction writing is based on first hand experience. Every few years I run out of stories. When that happens, I have to accept that I've lost my input/output balance; I'm writing more than I'm experiencing. This is a very common rut for artists, but seldom do they address it for fear of losing momentum. Stop writing, go out and have a breakup, or a car accident, or a crappy job, or a baby, or a protest... to "refill the coffers" with life stories that you can translate and relate to other people. The world doesn’t need more songs about how enjoyable dancing is.

4) Be curious about everything. The most important and effective lyrics are those that tell the listener something they already know, but do so in a way they could not previously articulate. When you do that you are doing the listener a big service, and thereby creating value. Essentially, you are just drawing lines between things that other people had not connected before. This is the essence of good poetry. If I tell you that “love is like a burning flame in the chest” your response is most likely, “Yeah. Thanks for the incredible perspective.” If I tell you that “love is like having a bakery follow you around” you will stop and consider this, and may think, “Huh, it is kind of like that… walking near a bakery lifts my spirits with the smell of comfort. If a bakery were to follow me around, I would constantly feel like that. What a strange but accurate comparison that I had not thought of. Here is my money, GavCaz.”

The way to train yourself to make these connections between disparate experiences easily is to learn about as many different worlds as possible, and take note of everything, especially how an experience makes you feel, so that you can find the parallels and intersections. Be curious about all things and people. Read, read, read. If you get good at it, you shouldn’t have to turn on your poetry cap… it will always be on. The goal is to live poetically. If you achieve that, lyrics will come easily. I’m not there yet, but I’m closer than I was five years ago.

5) Don’t worry about rhyming so much. Rhyming has ruined more lyrics than it’s improved. First learn how to write great poetry, and then worry about making it rhyme. Rhyming is easy when you have a dense vocabulary. Effective messaging is hard. Effective messaging with tasteful rhyming is the final step.

That’s about all I got. Good luck - recognizing that your lyrics are a weak spot already puts you ahead of 98% of the artists out there, so stay at it and keep the long view.

Gavin

Grady - the perfect murder/suicide jam for your Halloween party!

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Wed, 29 Oct 2014 16:01:00 +0000

I've always been impressed with Tom Stoppard's play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (and its hilarious and brilliant movie adaptation), in which he appropriates two of the minor comic relief characters from Hamlet and writes for them a narrative that compliments and augments Shakespeare's original play. It's an ambitious thing to do in that it requires extremely extensive knowledge of the source material and author's voice. I decided to try something similar with the small supporting character "Delbert Grady" from Stephen King's book The Shining. I've always loved the Kubrick movie and the book, both of which were genuinely scary experiences for me. This turned out to be a much bigger undertaking than I'd first assumed. For starters, there are some pretty big inconsistencies between Kubrick's screenplay and King's book, many of which relate to Grady. And to make matters more complicated, King wrote and executive produced his own TV version of The Shining (one of the worst productions I've ever seen... and I had to watch it twice), which itself differed from the book in a few ways. On top of that, there is a never-really-published-but-available-on-the-internet prologue to The Shining called "Before the Play" by King (which is rumored to be turned into a film soon) as well as an epilogue called "After the Play" that is said to have been lost forever. King also wrote a sequel to The Shining called Doctor Sleep, that was recently published. I absorbed those sources then spent a few weeks binging on the wide variety of interesting theories, interviews, and documentaries about the Kubrick movie.

The challenge of writing this piece was reconciling all those conflicting sources while remaining consistent with everything King ever wrote about Grady and the Overlook. My interpretation of Grady's history is an amalgamation of all the sources, with a few holes I took the liberty of filling in... my humble effort to contribute to the folklore of my favorite horror story of all time.

Most of the music is collaged from pieces of the original score, as well as many other favorite horror movie soundtracks and television shows.

Grady

I don’t need it

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me

it keeps calling me

calling me

I was dropped on the earth in The Year of the Snake

my ma was a nurse and my pa was a fake

he said it was the cold but she knew it was the shakes,

I guess he couldn’t hold what he couldn’t escape

I dropped out of high school in the tenth grade

was gonna kill japs for the U.S. Navy

picture me: “Lieutenant Delbert Grady”

they wouldn’t let me in because my hands were shaky

I started working any job that’d pay me

I started going with this proper lady

She had me cleaning up the church grounds daily

Hoping she could dry me out to make a baby

We lost our first in the Year of the Rat

I lost my shirt when Maz took bat

I cracked the egg and the yolk came red

if you can’t break through you gonna break your head

I don’t need it

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me

it keeps calling me

calling me

We sold what’s left and moved to Estes Park

laid to rest the thing I did, the darkness

I worked hard to make a brand new start

kept close to the trailer park, far from the bar

In the Year of the Tiger, Louise was born

I was pulling double shifts at the Dry Goods Store

was clean as whistle but still dirt poor,

was good with one kid but she wanted one more

When Louise was two, Lisa was due

she lit the whole room like the hole in our roof

my ma flew out for the big debut

she stayed in the Park ’til she died of the flu.

I stopped at the Dark Horse after the wake

when I came home at three Betty smelled the mistake

I awoke in a cell with my head full of ache

and remained in a fog ’til the Year of the Dog.

I don’t need it

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me

it keeps calling me

calling me

When I hit rock bottom at last

I was saved from the grave by a broken gasket

pickin’ up trash on Route 34

I came upon a man in a broken down Ford

I knew just what to do cause I’d seen it before

I used my canteen to fill his radiator

I brought him into town to look it over with Mel

who told us it would take a few days to get the part

I drove him up the pass to the Overlook Hotel

where repairs were being done before the winter got started

Oh what luck for your friend, D. Grady

The man, so relieved, was inclined to repay me

He noticed I was living in the back of my Studebaker,

offerred me a job as the wintertime caretaker.

hustled into town to tell Betty and the girls

she wouldn’t let me in, she wouldn’t have it any more

I swore that it was true, I promised her the world

and I knew there was a chance ‘cause she listened through the door

please baby baby please baby baby please ergrgggghhh

things got better before they got worse

I was made for this place like a corpse for a hearse

I turned down the boiler each night like clockwork

I cleaned every station, from tool shed to desk clerk

Seemed like we were finally home

with some fresh mountain air to breath life into bone

and nothing but time, no TV or phone,

should’a known that the wife couldn’t leave it alone

she started real subtle, just little observations

wondering why we didn’t get the best accommodations

wondering if I should’ve asked for better compensation

perhaps that Mr. Ulmann guy had known my reputation?

the storm rolled in, my wits wore thin

with the girls indoors, there was double the din

and Betty doing nothing ‘bout the trouble they’re in

always trying to get one over on me, dressing like twins and…

one night they took the joke too far

Betty found a whiskey bottle underneath the bar

and next to it a half smoked Bayuk cigar

she threw them in my face, left a 4-inch

and I couldn’t get my mind right after that night

I started seeing voices, I started hearing lights

I dreamt I was a minataur running through the maze

I woke up on the second floor, banging on a door

I don’t need it

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me

it keeps calling me

calling me

before long I was sleeping in the lounge

Betty said it wasn’t safe to keep a gun around

I startled her awake one night ripping at her gown

and the girls were hearing whispering and radio sounds

One night by the fire, while she taught me to read,

Louise stopped my lesson to tell me, “we should leave”

“I want you to like it here,” I tried to reset her,

“I wish that we could stay here forever and ever…”

she wandered upstairs as I chopped up the kindling

stopped mid swing when the front desk phone rang

those lines have been down for at least two months,

but here was this call from a Bob T. Watson

“Grady, do you know what your daughters intend?

Did you happen to wonder where your matches have been?

The Management feels that they lack discipline!

Perhaps you’re not so… adept at correction?”

The next thing I remember is Betty’s screaming

I opened my eyes to see my girls hacked to pieces

Before I could react the wall exploded to my right

She glared down the barrel while she put me in the site

I crawled around the corner as she tore down the hall

I slid on the blood and a chair broke my fall

when she bore down on me with the shotgun raised

every clock in the Overlook rang out its praise!

She startled and dropped the gun within my reach

I snatched it up and fired it into her teeth

and then it was done, my duties complete,

the silence was torn by the voice of Bob T:

“Grady, I must say I’m rather impressed

you’ve proven yourself to work well under stress

but before we can offer you the year-round employment

you’ll have to get downstairs and shut off the boiler.”

iI was hell getting down there with one mangled leg

but I’m a hard working man, ya that’s what the man said,

and with all of those bodies stacked safely in their beds

I swallowed both barrels and I opened my head.

Epilogue

“Colorado Lounge,” the lift boy called out

“Congratulations on the new job, sir!” he shouted

a big chested bald man wrangled my arm

and spoke with a hint of that old southern charm

“Everyone is waitin’! Come come, Mr. Grady!

The Manager’s been very pleased with you lately

Outside the Gold Room I read the big sash:

“The Overlook Welcomes the Gradys at Last.”

He handed me a bottle and he called to the crowd,

“Should we make him the bartender? What do you think?”

I froze for a moment, and I looked out at Betty,

her smile was as dead as my urge to drink.

It was the Worst of Times, It Was the Worst of Times.

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Wed, 15 Oct 2014 19:55:00 +0000

Available now at gavincastleton.bandcamp.com

This is a collection of fairly despondent songs with bare-bone instrumentation. I was #blessed to have the help of friends like Brian Cass, Kyleen King, and Courtney Marie Andrews accompany me on this one. The title, "It Was the Worst of Times, It Was the Worst of Times" is probably the only comical thing about it. 60% of this EP was written in July of 2011, in the days directly following the death of my 15-year old furry son, Lumas. Those three songs came quickly and easily (though I hesitate to describe a process so gut-wrenching as "easy"), but I immediately archived them... I didn't feel like I had the distance or stomach necessary to polish and productize them. I made a video for Expensive Love, and played Watering the Soil once at a show in San Francisco, but ultimately I wasn't ready to do right by them... until now. Underestimate Me arrived a few years later, after a healthy dose of rejection. The ease with which all four were written underscores what is surely the universe's bitterest joke: heartbreak is the best creative lubricant.

Team Love was the holdout; I'd never before had to be so patient with a song. The original demo was very different than the version you hear on this EP. It was a bitter fragment about how everyone in my generation seems to be growing out of friendships and into marriage and/or parenthood, with a tempo and arrangement more akin to Gary Jules' cover of Mad World than the upbeat piano doo-wop it became. But I was starting to turn a corner on a long bout of depression and I wanted the last song on the record to lead me out, rather than keep me there. I'd never before taken a sad song and inverted it, so I set about trying to do so.

"What if love is not, in fact, a noun... what if it is only a verb?"

This was the question that popped into my head and inspired me to write a holistic (in both the medical and the philosophical sense) song that would help me challenge and articulate my understanding --- or misunderstanding --- of love. Stephen R. Covey had a similar thought in his 7 Habits of Highly Effective People program, “Love is a verb. Love – the feeling – is the fruit of love the verb or our loving actions.” But I was inspired to look closer at the cost of employing the noun form of "love" by this fascinating TED talk by behavioral economist Keith Chen (and related TED Radio Hour Podcast episode, "The Money Paradox") on the economic implications of a concept known as "linguistic relativity" (the sordid history of which is recounted here). His research shows that people whose native languages lack future tense conjugations don't invest as much in savings as those whose native languages do have future tenses. I hypothesized that our culture's constant use of "love" as a noun, to be quantified, given and received, may have some adverse effects on our relationships.

Lyrical progress on Team Love was glacially slow - for over a month I averaged only a few words a day, resisting the tendency to use "love" in anything but verb form. Aside from a few hours each day dedicated to alternate revenue streams, most of my time was spent devouring every published thought I could find about the psychology of love, from the horrible Buzzfeed-style list "articles" ("10 Amazing Things About Love That You'll Never Believe He's Thinking And Are Impossibly Horrifying") to opinionated interviews on podcasts like Savage Lovecast and Death, Sex, & Money. From statistical sources like the OKCupid blog and various TED Talks to the motivational prose of pop psychology books by the likes of Brené Brown and Gary Chapman. I kept a running list of any revelations or arising questions about love and my relationship with it, and ordered it in a way that best illustrated the linear and sometimes long-jumping path of my thought process. Then I began to write lyrical blocks that illustrated each precept.

About five weeks after I began writing it, I was the exhausted owner of a relentless and cerebral song without hooks or a conventional structure. The irony is thick: I think that this song's lyrics are my most useful and thought-provoking to date, but I've delivered them in such a torrential manner that I fear few listeners will have the tolerance or perseverance required to unpack and examine them. But if anyone can handle a slow digestion process, my listeners can. I hope it becomes one of those songs that keeps giving with each repeat listen.

If you've already purchased It Was the Worst of Times, It Was the Worst of Times, then I want to thank you for trusting me with your money and time and helping me afford rent and dog food. If you haven't, I could sure use your support.

A few weeks back I published a cover of a song called "The Middle," by Portland folk artist Jeffrey Martin. I'd caught him playing at the Sisters Folk Festival and was floored by the authenticity of his voice and songs. I bought his CD, Dogs in the Daylight, and quickly developed an obsession with this song. Its message of moderation and compromise really resonated with me. In my arrangement, I organized the instrumentation into three camps: organic/analog instruments, synthetic/electronic instruments, and voice. Throughout the verses of the song, the different groups stay panned to opposite left and right channels, polarized. As the sequence progresses towards the chorus, they work their way to the center of the stereo field, reorganizing and optimizing themselves into an integrated stereo mix with more middle channel focus.

Free stream & download: gavincastleton.bandcamp.com/track/the-middle-jeffrey-martin-cover

Year of the Horse

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Sun, 14 Sep 2014 00:39:00 +0000

This year I decided to shake things up. Instead of a full-body suit --- which really only gets used once a year on Halloween --- I decided to #bless my niece with a Horseface mask that must be used year-round and for formal events. Sure enough, it was the big winner at her seventh birthday party - all the kids took turns looking horrific.

Doom performed live at Overclock Inc.

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Fri, 11 Jul 2014 16:00:00 +0000

I've finished editing the second video from our Overclock Inc. Studios shoot last May. It's a song called "Doom" from my new album, #blessed (available as a free download here):

Here's a little tutorial I made to walk you through the vocal fx programming if you're interested:

Average Man performed live at Overclock Inc.

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Tue, 24 Jun 2014 04:58:00 +0000

This past May I toured New England with a live band I've been working with for a few years now. I've never really done a proper live shoot with them, so I'm excited to finally put out some footage from a day-long session we did at the Overclock Inc studio. We recorded seven songs from my catalog; this one is from my new album #blessed. Since the song features some fancy vocal effects, I made a little tutorial to walk through it all - for you gear heads out there. Enjoy!

One Steel Door

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 10 Mar 2014 19:09:00 +0000

One Steel Door

Maybe there's just one last door between your lover and your heart
Maybe it was forged from the most impervious steel
and hinged on the most expensive parts

Maybe you will wait your whole life for someone to unlock it
And maybe they will,
maybe they won't

Maybe you're wrong about which side of the door the keyhole is on
and that's the most important part.

Average Man

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Fri, 21 Feb 2014 23:32:00 +0000

Average Man

Now when I was a young boy,
‘bout the age of five
my teachers told me
I could be the greatest man alive

they told me I could change the world

be whatever I wanted to be

there was no one in the world like me

every one of us was so unique

I’d not be an average man

no sir, I’d be no average man

so I had those big dreams

and I had those big skills

had a reason to live

and I had some time to kill

but the world got louder still

yeah the world got louder still

it tried to drown me out

it tried to break down my will

“Get out my way, I ain’t no average man”

I was thinking so much bigger than the average man

they flood my feed with all these useless lists

while I was curing cancer with these nonstop hits

so I was bitter towards the average man

then I hit my thirties like a bird against a window

I couldn’t reconcile the two disparate versions of me:

on the one hand was this man in search of comfort

and on the other was this meta-superhero I could be

maybe my eyes were never big

maybe my head was small

the man who knows his place

may be the greatest man of all

I found freedom in obscurity

and purity in poverty

why try to be amazing in a world so saturated with amazingness?

it’s blazing us

exhausting me,

I wonder what it’s costed me,

the price I’ve paid for baby boomers

propping up my self-esteem,

I should let go of all these scripted, movie-lifted dreams

and seek solace in my species

as an average man

I’ll pay admission like an average man

I’ll raise a family like an average man

I’ll rock the hairline of an average man

I’ll binge on Netflix like an average man

I drop a remix like an average man

I crowd-source it like an average man

I’m hyperbolic like an average man

I only iterate like an

The Eye of the Storm

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 27 Jan 2014 07:14:00 +0000

On rare Saturdays
when the kids oversleep
you'll startle me awake
by sliding your hand under my nightshirt
and resting it on my formidable gut
where the long dormant muscles will clumsily try
to stand at attention for your superior fingers
but before they can get out of their cots
or even attempt to form a proper row
you will slap them lightly
"at ease"
putting them down humanely
like befuddled leaky dogs

Next you'll trace spirals
out from my inny
to the rings of my ribs
mapping the wild tantrums of my acid reflux
and whispering in your indian oracle voice
nearly inside my ear,
"De eye of de storm."
I'll smile then,
eyes still closed,
puffing out my back
like a morning cat
and pushing my ear ever closer
to that apocalyptic breath of yours
like a child who loves to be tickled.

Then I'll reach my hand back
and run it over your pilgrim night gown
to find the womb we've worn out
and press the back of two sausage fingers
flat into your tummy crease.
With the adjacent fingers I'll wrap your belly around them
and declare in my french chef's voice
"Porcs dans une couverture."

And as the kids begin to herd around upstairs
waking the furniture,
one of us will kiss the other
right between the shoulder blades
and push these words deep into the last taught skin:
"Remember our waistlines?"

Doom

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Thu, 14 Nov 2013 17:45:00 +0000

Doom

They say depression is a weight that pulls you down
but to be honest I've not found that to be true
it grabs me by the lungs, it tries to lift me off this planet
chewing up the final threads that connect me to you

and I've been running out of things to keep me grounded
I'm having trouble finding love that makes me stick
with every song I try to run it down
before it runs me through
everybody's talking ‘bout progress
but all I see is

Doom
it follows me around
it drips into my shoes
I feel like I'm the only one who sees the future as a noose
I got them future blues, Satan

If you don’t know what I’m going through
I can try to spell it out for you:

Sometimes the sinking starts just thinking ‘bout my cel phone
I wonder how I have so many friends but feel alone
I notice how I feel so weightless when it’s left at home
and how I fill up every space with content that doesn’t leave me content

I start to spiral down through thoughts of population boom
perhaps the cancer starts the second that we leave the womb
it seems the more we’re extricated from the food chain,
the more creative time we have
but the less we have to say
it’s all

Doom
it follows me around
it drips into my shoes
I feel like I'm the only one who sees the future as a noose
I got them future blues

I understand it now
how a man finds himself on a water tower
raining down helter skelter
sell the whole house for the underground shelter
feel the storm comin
I can’t stand still enough to
stop my mind running
I see it play out
this song is a bread crumb, a toast to the empire
enjoy the smell of meat while my feet in the fire
I know I’m not preaching to the choir
whatever

I know you’d rather dance than understand the wiring
truth is overrated, reality is tiresome
cling to the twos and the fours
dance like I’m talking about how young we are
sounding like Fun.-loving folklore
ignore what I’m saying while I desecrate the #blessed dance floor
hard to articulate the great white fate
the end coming nearer
the writing on the mirror
says

Doom
it follows me around
it drips into my shoes
I feel like I'm the only one who sees the future as a noose
I got them future blues

[repeat ad nauseam]

Liquid Truth

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 11 Nov 2013 19:12:00 +0000

Liquid Truth

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth"
Heyeyey

Don't you wanna go back to life before the job?
Yeah, you were broke but at least you weren't choking on the fog
and the older I get, the less I remember the plan
It's easy to lose track of time when you're putting in time for the man

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth"
Heyeyey

Don't you find yourself taking work home… to the bar
and don't you ask yourself, “How the fuck I get home with no car?”
and don't tell her your musician, just because you're looking to score.
And you look deep in the drink and speak the truth, "Yo, bottle: I shoulda spilled my life on the keyboard like dadadadaaaaa…”

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth"
Heyeyey

you gotta get up
you gotta get up
you gotta get up
you gotta get up

Don’t you ever ask yourself, "Did I take this job or did this job take me?"
Don’t you ever ask yourself, "Did I take this job or did this job take me?"
Don't you ever answer, "I'm a piece of shit”

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth" Heyeyey

[repeat ad nauseam]

The Easy Life

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 11 Nov 2013 18:59:00 +0000

The Easy Life

I'm barely here

my skin's so thin

the fluorescents shine right through it

Can they see how close I am?

like an abscess leaking fluid

How many people in this store

are just about to lose it?

I ran up to the counter

like a man who's on fire

crying out to the pharmacist,

"Give me something to make the world smaller,

something to make the world smaller,

I need something to make the world smaller for me.”

‘Cause I just can't handle this easy life

gotta find something wrong just to feel alright

I just can't stand this easy life

am I afraid of love, or just love a fight?

Oh no

Lately it seems so easy

to get paralyzed by the size of things

(oh no, no no)

my soul’s agoraphobic,

I can't find a light to shine in the night of things

(oh no, no no)

I need a motorbike or a puppy,

some gravity to turn the tide of things

(oh no, no no)

it's so easy to lose your narrative

when you question the wrong and right of things

When I think about

all that pain I caused

to the girls I’ve loved

and the friends I lost

I wonder how I ever sleep at night…

I guess I just can't handle this easy life

gotta find something wrong just to feel alright

I just can’t stand this easy life

am I afraid of love, or just love a fight?

[repeat ad nauseam]

Year of the Triceratops

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Sat, 26 Oct 2013 04:07:00 +0000

This year we commemorated my niece's 6th birthday with a Triceratops suit...

... and a tribute to years previous.

Results

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Mon, 07 Oct 2013 16:00:00 +0000

Maybe There Is a Creek

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Wed, 04 Sep 2013 04:04:00 +0000

Maybe there is a creek in the mountains of northern Vermont that you have been trying to get back to for most of your life. Maybe you were boldly splashing around in it with your thirteen-year-old feet when a silent nest of hornets decided to teach you a lesson. Maybe you spun like a top, twisting your spaghetti arms out and up while your voice rose like a kettle. Maybe you slipped on the "broccoli rocks" that your father always warned you about, belly-flopping down onto wet worn flint that pierced your eggshell chest and knocked the July wind up and out of you, forcing a reverence that only violence could elicit from a boy with three sisters.

Maybe you heaved in water and heaved out nothing, filling and filling, almost giving up there, your chest broken, your back stung, your eyes wide and dancing like the water striders you could never catch. Maybe you envisioned the summer's end; an 8th grade gateway opening up to all the horrible worldly complications awaiting you: girls, money, alcohol, cancer, the internet. Maybe you pictured yourself sinking into the mossy bed and returning as pine years from now, looming over the creek, taller than your father.

Maybe you will go back there because you want to see what progress has done to that place that tried to kill you. Or maybe you hope to be stung again, having never since felt so alive.

Red Coat

noreply@blogger.com (Gavin Castleton) — Wed, 28 Aug 2013 20:56:00 +0000