In This Heartland
I never know what to say when the music stops.
That’s the first line from the title track of the forthcoming CD, “Heartland.” There’s a fair argument — over four years of Daily Journals — that says that’s not entirely true. I have plenty to say. Too much maybe. But it feels that way sometimes. And it certainly did the night I wrote “Heartland” a few months ago.
I wasn’t really planning on putting it on the record. Heck, I’ve never had a title track, why start now? And when my mom was like, “It’s awfully slow.” Well, that didn’t help. But something about the song captures something about the last year. Or at least part of the last year. It’s slow, and sad, and may passibly be the best musical and lyrical representation of what folks in AA call “rock bottom.” But don’t be alarmed: it’s only one of eleven songs on the record.
Like “Love” and “Almost Home,” “Heartland” has a story arch. It ain’t rocket science, but here it is: lose faith, hit bottom, work hard, find faith, believe again. It’s a ride, a journey. Like life.
And so… it’s official. Wes booked the “Heartland” CD Release Party for Tuesday, November 15th at at Pianos (158 Ludlow).
You can hear the opening and closing tracks (“Harder To Believe” and “Better Than That”) on My Space now. A few dates in the Northeast and Midwest (with The Nadas!) are still coming together.
Starting October 10th — I’m doing a Monday night residency at Rockwood Music Hall (196 Allen). Each night will be a different lineup: solo, acoustic, electric. Please do come out.
Meanwhile — with apologies to those who have already contributed — I discounted the cost while increasing the benefits of joining Team Heartland. Now, for just fifty bucks, you get a signed copy of “Heartland,” a signed copy of “The Rivington Sessions,” plus your name in the liner notes. Contribute five bills and I’ll come to your home and croon for your friends, plus a bunch of other stuff. Last year’s contributions made “Love & Other Indoor Games” possible. Please pitch in if you’re able. Rahman Pride Noodles are getting old… fast.
Fortunately, man does not live by Rahman Pride alone. I started the day with a six-mile run through Central Park. We bumped into Chris and Ethan at a drinking fountain near The Lake, and ran with them a while. Ethan and I held hands a bit: he in his running stroller, me jogging along side. When we parted ways, he watched me waving as he disappeared in the distance. Just before he disappeared from sight, he threw his little hand over his shoulder and waved like Jackie O. It was awesome.
