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the presidenttrack 1, 3:15

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  • I’ve got a better plan: we’ll wake up tonight,
  • rewrite the American dream
  • For it we’re old and gray let’s leave behind things
  • to feather the wings of our sons
  • Our daughters, friends and families,
  • prayers to last when our lives have past
  • Or a song that’s worth remembering
  • a chorus to sing for light in the evening
  • Let’s just spend the night together!
  • ‘til tomorrow starts to wake
  • Throw your loving arms around my waist
  • For tonight
  • We could start another day!
  • Instead, I said of waiting for the evening to fall
  • let’s call everybody we know
  • And go in el Caminos straight to the coast,
  • we’ll lie on the beaches
  • And take tonight to light a candle
  • holding each other’s hands from above we were
  • stars again, America
  • a country reborn as light in the evening
  • Let’s just spend the night together!
  • ‘til tomorrow starts to wake
  • Throw your loving arms around my waist
  • For tonight
  • We could start another day!
  • Save your oratory baby and leave that flag lapel pin
  • What if the morning never breaks?
  • Take my hand and walk beside me darling
  • and listen to what I have to say
  • We could spend all night just writing love songs
  • on every piece of paper to find
  • Then we’ll paint our words on walls and windows
  • lining the bedsheets, lining the pillows
  • And when we’ve filled our bedroom
  • we can write on each other’s arms and our eyelids
  • Our songs, our dreams, our prayers and pictures
  • colored tonight to light up the evening
  • Let’s just spend the night together!
  • ‘til tomorrow starts to wake
  • Throw your loving arms around my waist
  • For tonight….
  • We could start another day!

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the english teachertrack 2, 3:41

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  • I want a man like a dictionary
  • With words as skin, with nouns and
  • adjectives as his limbs so when he
  • runs he forms perfect sentences
  • My man’s not perfect, he’s decoration
  • He teaches physical education
  • Instead of sportcoats, he wears
  • a whistle around his forearm
  • But every night I dream of Hugo, Kant of Dostoevsky
  • In my skin my blood reads articles and prepositions
  • I woke up dreaming, satiated
  • For TS Eliot had kissed my shoulderblade
  • I lied silent, alone with
  • thoughts about what he’s dreaming
  • I want him lost in Milton’s paradise
  • Maya Angelou’s perfect rhythm
  • or Billy Collins, just not some
  • sweaty school gymnasium
  • But every night I dream of Vonnegut of Herman Melville
  • In my skin my blood bleeds articles and prepositions
  • Will he notice how my words combine like silent pictures
  • Or will he just say good night?
  • He woke up shaking his lips parentheses
  • Part to speak his evening’s dreaming
  • I lied there silent alone
  • in trembling expectation
  • He said his dreams were desecrated
  • the ‘49ers beat the Patriots
  • I just kissed him, rubbed his shoulders
  • and drifted back to sleep
  • If every night my dreams seem callous to you, please remember
  • My bed’s a library just fall asleep and let me dream them

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the murderertrack 3, 4:39

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  • Did the Northern star, light a dirty sky
  • Did the angels hide, in the neon lights
  • Did the shadows crawl, where her body lied
  • In a pile of leaves by the riverside
  • Oh, but Timothy, should my heart reappear
  • In a beat from now would you wait for me here
  • Just to hold me like you’ve never done before?
  • Or turn from me for the Flint River floor
  • in a week or two washing up on the shore
  • would you leave me here forever quieting?
  • With the same old moon on the same old ground
  • And the same old trees as the only sound
  • On the empty creek in the failing light
  • Would she rise again in the gathering night
  • And say Emily, how we're covered in sin
  • but despite ourselves, we'll be perfect again
  • in the softly dawning autumn growing near
  • now to look at me, after all that I did
  • have I paid enough? could you think to forgive?
  • They're the only words I ever want to hear
  • And the hours could pass, and the years could fade
  • And the stars could fall, and my hair turn gray
  • And I'd never speak, for I'd done my crime
  • and my hand would fall, still a thousand times

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the businessmantrack 4, 5:00

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  • Elevator elevator take me to the 22nd floor
  • Take me through this quiet building, slowly pause and open up the door
  • Dying in American suburbia for supervisor’s pay
  • 18 years spent working for the government in Washington Dee Cee
  • Every day another stream of car, work, sleep, reeee peeeeeet
  • Huddled with a phone receiver whispering to an answering machine
  • Don't wait up for me
  • You'll feel better in the morning if you sleep
  • Amy disagrees
  • but she drifts off anyway and waits to dream
  • Distantly the echoes of explosions bring our businessman around
  • All the streets are empty and a siren is the only other sound
  • As his desk lamp flickers off he shuffles to the balcony to see
  • Washington in smoldering ruin with ashes raining softly in the street
  • Walking calmly back inside he switches on the radio to hear
  • Voices hushed and whispering of ecstasy and judgment coming near
  • Don't wait up for me
  • You'll feel better in the morning if you sleep
  • Amy disagrees
  • but she drifts off anyway and waits to dream
  • Elevator elevator take me to the parking garage door
  • Take me to my station wagon take me where I’ve never been before
  • Driving through the empty city dodging deer and fallen power lines
  • Parking by the coast he rifles through his trunk and wanders toward the beach
  • Looking down the shoreline at the businessman as far as he can see
  • Ankle-deep in quiet water holding out their flashlights to the sea
  • Don't wait up for me
  • You'll feel better in the morning if you sleep
  • Amy disagrees
  • but she drifts off anyway and waits to dream

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the dancertrack 5, 3:20

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  • Dance with me Julia
  • Down the empty boulevards of burning movie lots
  • My torso, your hips, the flames softly kiss
  • The dance, the dance, Julia
  • Dance with me Julia
  • On bridges and by factory fronts of cardboard crumbling
  • My canter, your stride, the fire slowly dies
  • We’ll dance, we’ll dance Julia
  • Just stay with me
  • Just stay with me
  • Dance with me Julia
  • We’ll trace the paths of angels in the embers at our feet
  • My fingers, your spine, our heels softly rhyme
  • we dance, we dance, Julia

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the preachertrack 6, 2:23

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  • The Mississippi sun
  • Casting shadows on
  • The congregation
  • There stands a minister, proud
  • With sweat collecting on his brow
  • And well-rehearsed moans
  • Oh wandering children born
  • To walk in darkness home
  • Orphaned and blind
  • Our folding fingers could pray
  • A sun delivers the day
  • Emptied and white
  • So take your alcohol cage
  • Get on your knees and crawl to the stage
  • And come to him child

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the performertrack 7, 3:40

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  • Each night I watch the cities sliding by in light reflecting off my window
  • and every town’s the same at 3am all sin and silent hymns without you
  • So should we never have to part
  • I’d whisper from the start
  • A prayer for you June
  • I’ll come home soon
  • Each night I dream your hand’s in mine we’re walking barefoot through a field of flowers
  • Content that I’m your beau, the Romeo you know will always walk beside you
  • But if you say that I’m your man
  • We’ll spend forever hand in hand
  • As Johnny and June
  • I’ll come home soon
  • Each night I know in several hours I’ll wake up somewhere far away without you
  • That feeling don’t come clean, it’s gasoline lying smoldering inside me
  • So if it makes your evening bright
  • Just know that every single night
  • I’m singing for you June
  • I’ll come home soon

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the prostitutetrack 8, 4:16

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  • 20,000 dollars and I don’t care
  • just to lay down upon your feet
  • just to stay as you fall asleep
  • Because I think you look like everything
  • That I’ve had but I couldn’t keep
  • That I’ve hummed by I couldn’t sing
  • And tomorrow I’ll be heavy as the wind
  • Left to blow out the candles that still are lit
  • Oh and goodbye Savannah
  • I had me a lover years ago
  • How his hands were the maple trees
  • Waving shade on the Georgia Spring
  • We would live together him and me
  • I would paint while the morning traced
  • Lines of light on his sleeping face
  • I would make Alabama a Southern sea
  • With him waking upon it’s empty beach
  • Oh and goodbye Savannah
  • Everyday you get more incomplete
  • First your eyes were a dimmer blue
  • Than the oceans I once knew
  • Now I lose a little everyday
  • And I’m scared cause the thing that’s new
  • Is I notice I’m fading too
  • So if you’re ever again near Birmingham
  • Would you lay next to me, honey if you can
  • Oh and goodbye Savannah

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the weather forecastertrack 9, 3:10

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  • Kaitlin’s on TV
  • Weather forecasting
  • Tucked behind a microphone
  • She’s telling all of sleet and snow all day
  • Prepatory school
  • Notebooks college ruled
  • Tracing out a unicorn
  • She’s drawing men in uniform all day
  • He’d be older too
  • We could start anew
  • Another sun could bloom to burn
  • The clouds the separate years have formed away
  • Robbie’s watching me
  • Channel 17
  • In every cloud his uniform
  • Looks back at me through thunderstorms all day
  • Dormitory room
  • Summer’s coming soon
  • Tangled in each other’s arms
  • We disappeared we lingered on all day
  • She’d be older too
  • We could start anew
  • Another sun could bloom upon
  • A different day a different song to sing
  • But weather systems fade
  • Just like lovers stray
  • Another sun will bloom to find
  • We are the loves we’ve left behind

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Wandering through the Metropolitan Museum of Art a few years ago, I stumbled upon an exhibit that summarized ‘People of the 20th Century’, a photo-documentary by the German photographer August Sander.

credits

  • Kyle Evans Guitar, Vocals, Melodica, Piano on
    Track 3
  • Jason Mattis Bass
  • Dan Roberts Piano, Rhodes, B3, Glockenspiel,
    Celesta
  • Shareef Taher Percussion

Notes

Wandering through the Metropolitan Museum of Art a few years ago, I stumbled upon an exhibit that summarized ‘People of the 20th Century’, a photo-documentary by the German photographer August Sander. The project documents Sander’s pictorial taxonomy of the people in his village, who fell into seven main categories: the Farmer, the Skilled Tradesman, the Woman, Classes and Professions, the Artists, the City, and the Last People. The project was Sander’s life work. His egalitarian representation of the German society eventually caught the attention of the Third Reich, who over a se- ries of years destroyed three quarters of his negatives, forced him into semi-exile, and killed his son.

The photographs were luminous. Consistently working with simple, black and white portraiture shot in natural light allowed the series of images to form their own repre- sentational datum working alongside the content of the images. By creating a taxon- omy of daily life, he created an additional narrative of subject matter. For the viewer, what was a relatively abstract presentation of stark images now had multiple entry points (the representation, the project structure, and the image composition), uniting the work into a cohesive, accessible whole. And the images had a clarity free from constraints imposed by romanticism, sentimentality, or nostalgia – as Sander himself said, “I never make a person look bad; they do that themselves. The portrait is your mirror. It’s you.”

‘Jamboree’ is that mirror, formed from music.

MEdia