Houses of Stone

We all build our house of stone

Brick by brick

Safe from harm

We never suspect the ground

...will open up

We all fall down

Something I'm working on. Can't decide whether it's a bit too predictable.

S

Have a listen...

Hey folks,

Spent the last couple of days recording an acoustic demo of "How To Hold A Gun" on my 8-track. It's now up on my BandPage, and you can listen to it here:

http://listn.to/SarahColoso

Enjoy!

:)

...Finished!

...or at least it is until I play it live at Tonic tomorrow and probably go back and re-write half the song. For me, lyrics tend to go through two re-writes:

1) is brought about by that moment when the lyrics go from being written down to sung out loud to myself; nine times out of ten this triggers an embarrassing "that sounded far better in my head" moment...

2) happens when I play a song live for the first time, triggering an even more embarrassing "that sounded far better when I played it to myself in my room" moment.

For now, the song is called "How To Hold A Gun," and is something of a rant about religious extremists/terrorists.

How To Hold A Gun

All are parasites

Feasting on the host

Father, Son and Holy Ghost

Take them while they're young

Teach them how to hate

Teach them how to hold a gun

We dug an earthen grave

And buried reason deep

Though she tried to fight

She soon fell fast sleep

We filled it up again

And marked it with a cross

And never paused to contemplate

The weight of what we'd lost

Father, look this way

Trust in me your might

Teach me how to win the fight

Take me not in vain

You shall hold your tongue

Lest I kill your first born sons

We parted wide the sea

And reason followed in

And when we had escaped

We drowned her for her sins

There is no turning back

From ripples of deceit

And so we journey on

The serpent's at our feet

Be you not afraid

Gospel shall abide

Keep the iron faith

God is on my side

Pointers...

Since my previous post, I got to thinking about the meaning behind that rhyming couplet plucked from the dusty corners of my subconscious. A biblical reference... and bugs. Hmm...

I got the sense that I was being "pointed" in a certain lyrical direction by this, so I continued my write-the-first-thing-that-comes-into-your-head exercise, whilst intermittently consulting the Holy Bible, Sam Harris' "Letter to a Christian Nation," and numerous articles on the Norway massacre. The result was several sprawling pages of... mostly crap, but there was the occasional nugget in there that could be prised out, and formed into something that vaguely resembled a verse.

This is it so far:

All are parasites

Feasting on the host

Father, Son and Holy Ghost

Take them while they're young

Teach them how to hate

Teach them how to hold a gun

We dug an earthen grave

And buried reason deep

Though she tried to fight

She soon fell fast asleep

We filled it up again

And marked it with a cross

And never paused to contemplate

The weight of what we'd lost

---

I don't think the lyrics will necessarily occur in that order - but it's a start.

The Stream of Consciousness...

...or, as most creative people know it, the Flood of Unintelligible Rubbish (97% of the time).

For the first time in a creatively barren eighteen months (musically speaking), I'm finally starting to feel the first stirrings of that elusive muse (which was going to be the name of this blog, but unbelievably it is already the name of an Academy-Award-nominated documentary. And I thought I was being so clever...).

I'm sure many songwriters, poets, etc. get this feeling when looking at some of their previous, best work - that feeling of "How on earth did I write that well before?" It's not a particularly egotistical feeling, to be clear - it's more a longing for that crystalline, lightning-flash coalescence of time and space and mindset that enabled you to write those perfect lyrics you'd been searching for for so long. It only lasts half an hour at most, and when it leaves you it's like a comedown from some internal drug - you can't remember it. At all. All you've got for evidence is that perfect rhyming couplet, or chorus, or verse - normally scribbled so fast you can barely read it - that really makes the song.

I should add, this little mini-rant was inspired in part by a link sent to me by my great friend, Miss Sarah Dargie (one of the most creative people I know). I feel it refers more to film and art, so I thought I'd put my own lyrical slant on it, but it's a truly inspiring letter for anyone creative, written by Austin Madison of Pixar: http://friendswelove.com/blog/persist-austin-madison/

Anyway, I decided to "persist" through uninspired times by writing a stream of consciousness: that is, literally taking anything that came into my head and going with it. I find it tends to repeat itself if I keep at it for sustained periods of time, so this time I tried it in short bursts. It's a well recognised songwriting technique, and the first time I came across it was on an old Radiohead website, where Thom Yorke writes words heedless of spelling or grammar:

you run away scared outOfyourWits

thats is a heavyle load so you can't run so fast

sanctury you find ina n the dream of anearly grave and a few forlorn words

a million and one pinpricks in the one youloVe HOPIng she ll
give up on yu so youd r e a l l y hav someone tobLame

boy
you hav got to get your house in

(plenty more where that came from at http://www.radiohead.com/Archive/Site1/elsewhere.html.)

So I tried something like it, and this is what came out:

Parasites feasting on the host

Father, Son and Holy Ghost

No idea what it meant, but it was surprisingly not bad - it even rhymed! Then I tried it again.

Wraith? Ghost, ZOMBIES!!

Wellll... one out of two ain't bad.