New Life
Comments: 8 - Date: August 3rd, 2009 - Categories: Songs
New Life
© Williams 2009
I have no history
No story to tell you
No songs to play on piano
And I have no lines on my face
No fingerprints of childhood
No echoing late-night conversations
And I want you to tell me it’s all right
It’s all right
Sitting by the window
Sink is full of soap suds
Hearing the wind blowing
I have no history
No story to tell you
No songs to play on piano
I have no lines on my face
No grazes on my knees
And no first kisses
No conversations
No used tickets
No half-remembered destinations
It’s all right
It’s all right
It’s all right
Download or listen online: New Life (mp3)
Background
I’ve been thinking about what ‘going stealth’ means, about what safety means, about what ‘a new life’ means. The opening lyrics came to me as I was having a conversation with an acquaintance who didn’t know my history. I was wondering why so often it feels like I need to choose between smudging the truth and having a conversation about topic X, or disclosing and having to have a conversation about me being trans. And I wonder what people do who do go ‘deep stealth’, what it feels like to get rid of all that history. I have one acquaintance who threw away all her books, just in case her old name was inside the cover.
Just recently we bought a ukulele, and I’ve been learning to play it. It’s very different to guitar, and I really haven’t become accustomed to it yet. I realised today that I’m sort of making a point of not learning all the chords too quickly – I want to have the freedom to make my music writing go in different ways, rather than having my fingers move automatically from tonic to dominant, from relative minor to subdominant (although there is still a bit of this going on here, I guess). At any rate, the different order of notes within the chords leads me to try out different melodies.
I have also been thinking about lullabies, and how sad I found many of them as a child. I’ve been wanting to write one, and I think this comes close-ish. The nylon strings of the ukulele help with the tone, and remind me of Luka Bloom’s softer songs of a few years back. (Although I’m nowhere near as awesome, of course!)
Recording
This is another quick recording, done in one take, pretty much as soon as I’d written the song this afternoon. I recorded the ukulele and vocals on one track. It’s really simple, with just a little tweaking of the EQ and some reverb, because I love reverb!
I think, actually, it would sound good with some more instruments – woodwind or strings? Piano arpeggios running through? But I like the simplicity of this, and I wanted to upload it, so here it is.
Doing it again
Well, I’d practice more?! There are a few issues with the vocals (like the bit about “no lions on my face”!), but hey, they’re fresh which makes up for most of the imperfections, yes? I hope so! I’d also, as per so many other times, record the instrument/s and vocals separately, so I had more control with mixing.
Of course, I would be honoured if you’d like to share this song with people – please link them to this page rather than directly to the download. Thank you.
Comment by Gabriel M Thomson - 3rd August, 2009 @ 11:46 pm
Oh god… i wrote a huge comment about how much i love this song, but my browser did something odd and chewed it up. D: Anyway - it’s my new favourite song of yrs. But then i am a bit of a sucker for sad songs. And it really does tap into some of the stuff i’ve been thinking/feeling about both my transition and also about my recent move.
I especially love the quiet interlude in the middle: “sitting by the window/sink is full of soap suds/hearing the wind blowing” I can really see that - can enter into that sad, bright feeling of being entirely in the moment. (In fact, it’s not so far from what i’m doing right now!)
Comment by admin - 4th August, 2009 @ 3:55 am
Thank you for your comment - I’m sorry the original got eaten!
It’s lovely to read about how one of my songs can fit into another person’s mind or life, and to hear another person’s reflections on it. It’s strange, because with a few hours of space between writing/recording it and reading your comment I can see how terribly sad it is in some ways. When I wrote/recorded it I was thinking it was merely a little melancholy.
I’m also pleased that the middle stanza works to bring the listener into a more physical ‘now’, a ‘present’. I wanted it to ‘ground’ the song a bit, rather than the lyrics just being a floating . . . list, I guess!
Comment by Ika - 4th August, 2009 @ 7:42 pm
I really like this! It is sad. I think the ukelele sounds fantastic, but it’s an instrument I really like anyway…
Sorry. I have absolutely zero vocabulary for talking about music. But this gave me a lump in my throat, and the words will keep making me think for a while…
Comment by Esther - 6th August, 2009 @ 3:31 am
This is lovely. Sweet and sad and simple. The ukulele sounds great too. Love it.
I mean, it’s no ‘I respect women’ but then what is??!
Comment by nix - 6th August, 2009 @ 8:18 pm
thanks ika and esther, i appreciate the comments. esther, maybe we should form a ukulele band and do a cover of ‘i respect women’?
Comment by Jacky - 10th August, 2009 @ 5:29 pm
Wow! Very touching! It doesn’t really apply to me but it helps me understand the feeling one might have in, as you say, deep stealth. Thanks!
Pingback by Nix’s Song « Tboy Jacky - 10th August, 2009 @ 5:34 pm
[...] Nix Williams linked to a post with the lyrics and an uploaded recording of a song he wrote. It’s worth checking out, as well as the accompanying commentary by Nix. [...]
Comment by Shane - 1st November, 2009 @ 7:41 am
Thanks Jonathan, you’ve got me thinking.
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