On ‘I’ll Be Waiting’

Two falls ago, we were rehearsing at a space on Rivington Street for a month-long residency at Arlene Grocery. It was a gray fall day on Manhattan’s gritty Lower East Side. It was perfect for songwriting.

I came equipped with my Rickenbacker, and an A-to-D progression ripped straight from ‘Dear Elizabeth’ played with a healthy dose of distortion. Jeff Domanski was on bass, Walker Pittibone on drums, and Paul Grassini was whirling up another layer of fuzz. We left that night with what would become ‘I’ll Be Waiting.’

I spent a few days walking around downtown cranking the song in my headphones, singing to myself, and trying to find what the song wanted to be about. I know now what it means, kinda’, but I don’t remember how it came together. I was waffling between an ex and a current girlfriend at the time, tortured by nostalgia, habit, and geography. I was thinking about continental drift, bridges, and passing time. And about how conversations are never really over, that is, until we’re totally over. But honestly, I don’t really know. It’s mixed, and rocks (it’s the loudest song on the record), and so you can decide for yourself in a few weeks, and project whatever you on it. Its yours, after all.

Kevin and I are almost done with Almost Home. We’ll wrap ‘Hollywood Arms’ and ‘Leavin’ On A Jet Plane’ on Monday night, then Fed Ex everything off to distant Tenafly, New Jersey, Tuesday morning for mastering. There are some terrific sonic surprises tucked into this record, so listen closely. After I send it off, I have to move onto art, and duplication. And the tour, and the video, and… And I can’t wait to get it all out to you.

Meanwhile, I gotta’ set the record straight a little bit. Yes, my father broke a 45 and my transistor radio over his knee. He was all of 33 at the time, exactly one year older than I am now. And I was a precocious little bugger who liked, even then, to rock out at full volume. But the fact is, he’s been a terrific supporter of my music over the years. And two weeks ago, when I took him and his wife to the studio to see Kevin and I at work, he seemed genuinly pleased, and proud. And that meant a lot to me. Heck, he was a teeneager once too, blasting Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, and Roy Orbison on Waterloo, Iowa’s KCRW on his transistor radio. So … thanks Dad. This one’s for you.

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