Temporary Thing

Or, How I Stopped Worrying And Learned To Love The Game

For more than a moment this week, I was feeling trampled by the music business, specifically, the business of algorithms and streams and endless content. It’s overwhelming trying to keep up with the way big tech upends the arts all the time, especially when you’re someone who wants to do a good job, and tries hard to do a good job, but has not a hope in hell of trying to keep pace with the ever changing nature of what it means to do a good job. I love to sing, and I love to play gigs, and I love to make records. But I don’t love reels and I don’t love soundbites and I don’t love the low attention span economy. I know I am not alone in this, of course. But I was feeling alone in this, because I was having an off day, and for better or worse, all the sensitivity that I have buried inside me that gets uncorked from time to time in the name of creative pursuits was instead wasting away the afternoon getting triggered on social media.

When I finally stopped scrolling, I wrote a long, rant-y essay titled Algorithm Be Damned or something equally pointless. Yes, it is entirely possible to give yourself the ick. Mercifully however, I slept on my sad little tirade before posting and now it shall live where it belongs: forever in my drafts. Reading it back, though my intent for the essay was to be fiery and passionate, and though some valid points were probably made, for the most part, I sounded like a whiny little bitch. And you know where your energy is best spent if you’re a songwriter and you’re in the mood to be a whiny little bitch? It’s best spent actually writing songs.

I write most of my songs on Veronica, a gorgeous Gibson acoustic I bought from Corner Music on 12th Avenue South in Nashville back when I moved to the USA in 2012. She’s not exactly the world’s most playable guitar, but I didn’t buy her for playability, I bought her because she has a small body and an exquisite mother of pearl fretboard and I am an impractical person who loves shiny, beautiful things. Also, I have a strong mystical streak (this is what happens when you’re raised Catholic and then give it all up, it still needs somewhere to go) so I am one of those hippie types who believes that certain guitars have certain songs in them, and I have always felt that Veronica was meant for me, as I was meant for her, and that we’re in a relationship as serious and committed as any romance I’ve ever had.

Me & Veronica circa 2016

Lately, I know Veronica has has been calling out to me, and I’ve been neglecting her. But today, today I finally listened and we managed to get the bones of two songs out in quick succession. And then I cried and cried, with sorrow of course, but also relief. The sorrow: obviously I had some feelings I’d been hanging onto a little too long that needed a safe place to land. The relief: I have a habit of writing in 6/8 a lot and I’ve been trying to kick it and these freshly hatched tunes? They are (for now) in 4/4. A summer miracle! I still have a hefty amount of work to do here, the hundred visions and revisions of my inner Prufrock, if you will. But this is where Veronica takes a rest and instead I’ll go to my notebook and write down whatever babble I sang while I was chasing down the melody, and then I’ll home in on a fragment or phrase, and investigate that for as long as I can stand it. Over the years, I’ve learned you can’t hurry an idea (at least, I can’t), but you (I) shouldn’t let it fester too long either. So I am going to try to knock these out before the summer ends.

In my mind, I am dreaming of going back into the studio to record new songs again in February. My reasons for this are two-fold:

1. I have never been especially buoyant when it comes to winter, and recording will give me something to look forward to. This way, even if seasonal affective disorder does decide to kick my ass, as it sporadically does from time to time, it will likely still yield some pretty good vocal takes, and there’s nothing this natural born optimist with high highs and low lows loves more than somehow reframing a depressive episode as a win…

2. I have my Lou Reed covers record coming out in early 2027, and I honestly feel that the only way I will be able to enjoy the exhausting DIY hustle of self-releasing yet another album is if I’ve got some place magical and creative to disappear to. Don’t get me wrong, I love running a small indie label. But it’s not for the faint of heart, and the act of creating an album and promoting an album are not in any way alike. I’ve learned it’s best to keep both energies in play at the same time, rather than oscillate between the two.

Between now and then, I still have plenty of shows to play, plenty of songs to write, and plenty of work to do on the Lou LP, which I’ve tentatively called Sweet Hassle. Don’t quote me on it though, until the cover art is finalised, I reserve the right to change my mind! Yesterday, I went to a cool indie space/ vintage Vegas style wedding venue in town called Mirror Mirror and filmed a music video for “Some Kind of Love”. I haven’t finalised the tracklist for the record yet, but since I’ve committed to making a video, I guess this song is making the cut. Some other certainties are “Candy Says”, “Crazy Feeling” and “Temporary Thing”.

It’s all still a while away, but it’s not in my nature to be a tease, so here’s a demo version of ‘Temporary Thing”. I’m a big fan of the album it came from, 1976’s Rock and Roll Heart. The finished track is quite a bit more fleshed out than this, but you get the idea…