The song lyrics are included with the CD (which you know because you have a copy, right? ;>), but after credits and lyrics and photos there wasn't enough room for anything else.
This page includes some brief comments on each of the songs. I always enjoy learning from other songwriters about how songs are conceived and how they evolve, so I thought providing this information might be of interest. Lemmeknow what you think. Song lyrics are also provided.
-Steve
More Than Meets the Eye
Cowboy Song
See You Anymore
House On Fire
Scrambled
Love So Elusive
Seattle
Children's Blues
Hide and Seek In the Sun
For Better For Worse
This is an old song--the oldest on the album, actually. It started out as an attempt to write in the style of a songwriter who was a big influence on me at the time, and I think it ended up being a fairly decent song. I remember this one was a little unusual in that it started with the chord progression--usually my songs start with a lyric idea or fragment. Once I got going with it, the lyrics came fairly easily. And the "bird on the wire" line just popped out--I think it was an unconscious nod to Leonard Cohen.
The arrangement on the album is pretty much how I've always heard it in my mind, from the brushes-on-the-snare percussion to the strummed guitar to the bass that establishes and maintains the song's momentum. The different guitar parts were all done with the same guitar; I used compression on the harmonics at the beginning and on the strummed guitar to achieve the ringing/chiming effect.
Life in the city with no one to turn to
World full of pity--you'd think that we'd learn
to search for the meaning where it might be found
But lately it seems you're never around
There's more than meets the eye
There's more than you and I
I've called to say goodbye--and I don't know why
There's more than meets the eye
Frost on the window--a bird on the wire
Smells from the kitchen and smoke from the fire
We're so full of reasons when we play the game
We change like the seasons until we're the same
Time after time--day after day
Searching my dreams for something to say
The train's in the station--my time is tomorrow
There's no explanation--you know who you are
Time passes slowly when you need a change
When the world makes no sense and it all seems so strange
There's more than meets the eye
There's more than you and I
I've called to say goodbye--and I don't know why
There's more than meets the eye
More than meets the eye
Another old song, although not as old as More Than Meets the Eye. I wrote it shortly after I moved to Seattle from the Midwest--I figured every songwriter needs to write a cowboy song, especially if they move out West. However, I only wrote the bridge to it a couple of years ago--until then it was just the three verses (laziness is a terrible thing...). And then last winter I made a couple of lyric changes in the second verse. The idea to finish it with the harmonica playing Home On the Range was there from the beginning. I remember going to a bookstore near where I lived to look it up and see if it was in the public domain. Some people give me a hard time about it, but I think it's a pretty good fit with the rest of the song.
The arrangement slowly evolved to the one on the album. I recorded most of the tracks in the summer of 2003, and was pretty pleased with it. Believe it or not, I didn't get the idea about adding a pedal steel until months later--but I'm really glad I did. I think it takes the song to a whole new level, and Bob's playing is impeccable. In one of those magical musical connections, we found out when he came over to my house to record (we'd never met before) that we both grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and that we knew some of the same people. Once we established that connection, it seemed as if the recording session was preordained.
The mountains are risin' upon the horizon
The prairie's as big as the sky
Cowboy comes ridin' with the songs he's been hiding behind
He's thinkin' and wonderin' why
He keeps his feet in the stirrups and his eyes on the sky
Keeps movin'--don't matter how slow
His dreams are the only things that he can believe in
The way that he feels is the way he must go
He's got fences to mend--keeps his distance from friends
He hears the coyotes howlin' at night
The audience cheers and the crowd buys him beers
And his music it sparkles like the winter starlight
He keeps his feet in the stirrups and his eyes on the sky
Keeps movin'--don't matter how slow
His dreams are the only things that he can believe in
The way that he feels is the way he must go
He's a rambler but no renegade
With a songbook as his stock in trade
His trail keeps on turnin' while the home fire's burnin'
Thoughts of her dance in his head
But there's nothin' like bein' alone on the stage
There's nothing he'd rather be doing instead
He keeps his feet in the stirrups and his eyes on the sky
Keeps movin'--don't matter how slow
His dreams are the only things that he can believe in
The way that he feels is the way he must go
A fairly recent song--I wanted to write something uptempo, and this is what came out. I think it's about garbled communications, but there's a lot of stuff in there... The interesting thing to me is that I wrote the words to the chorus in a single flash of inspiration shortly after I decided I wanted to write songs. In fact, I think it's on the first page of my first songwriting notebook. I always thought it was a good chorus, although I never really "worked" the song--until I wrote the verses many years later.
The electric guitar in this version of the song is my friend Dennis' 1967 Rickenbacker--I remember playing it back when we were in high school and performing in rock 'n roll bands. (I had a Gibson ES 335 at the time, which I later traded for my first acoustic guitar. Oooh, I wish I still had that guitar...).
A chance encounter--no big deal
No secret motives to conceal
No need to keep my guard up--I was cool
Now all I know's I'm losing sleep
The cupboard's bare and I can't keep on
paying both the piper and the fool
And the wind is blowing leaves outside my window
It snuck inside the house and slammed the door
You never see the wind but you can feel it
How come I never see you anymore?
Like a sidelong glance becomes a look
A single page becomes a book
And words get used like children's fingerpaints
But while the perfume clings, the garbage reeks
and the smog of laughter hangs for weeks like
smoke ring haloes 'round the heads of saints
Still, the wind is blowing leaves outside my window
It snuck inside the house and slammed the door
You never see the wind, but you can feel it
How come I never see you anymore?
Poets paint their pictures and we nail them to the wall
Photographers play word games as they shudder in the hall
Drifting on emotions--every anchor has been lost
But I've got my eyes wide open and my toes and fingers crossed
These brief exchanges though oh so dear
Are but glancing blows--they're insincere
And the little things will get you in the end
Like that feeling when you swing so high
that you're falling deep into the sky
You know it's deeper than you'll ever comprehend
And the wind is blowing leaves outside my window
It snuck inside the house and slammed the door
You never see the wind but you can feel it
How come I never see you anymore?
I wrote this in the spring and summer of 2001. The title comes from a very specific incident--I was in the bathroom at home when I smelled smoke on the breeze through the open window. It was that kind of smoke that you know isn't from a barbecue or a fireplace, and I thought "There's a house on fire." And then I thought, "Whoa, I think there might be a song in there somewhere..." I wrote the first verse and chorus in the next day or so, and then let it marinate in the back of my mind for a while. A month or two later I wrote the rest of the lyrics, and it was one of those rare experiences where they just came through me--it was almost effortless. I wish that would happen more, because it's such a magical thing. But sometimes it makes it more challenging to determine what the song's about--I'm not 100% sure about this one.
The arrangement on the album just fell into place--I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it. I wanted the song to sound foreboding, which is why it's in a minor key and has kind of a dirty sounding acoustic guitar. The organ felt appropriate for the second verse, primarily because of the religious imagery. And I had fun recording the ooohs for the chorus.
Oh yes--there really was a fire. And now I'm reminded of this song whenever I drive by the now-vacant lot where the house used to stand.
There's something funny in the air
I see omens mixed with signs
The last resort is out of reach
The harbor's filled with mines
We call it in--they call it sin
Hang up and run away
Leaving one hoarse voice in a one-horse town
and a burning need to pray
There's a house on fire--sirens are screaming
Here I am dreaming of a blue desire
Making me shiver--smoke on the river--sparks in the night
Arsonists and bystanders
Will need to be restrained
The hot seat will be understood
But still left unexplained
The clergy standing speechless
In twos and fours and fives
With martyrs going up in flames
while bartering their lives
There's a house on fire--sirens are screaming
Here I am dreaming of a blue desire
Making me shiver--smoke on the river--sparks in the night
Trying to cut loose--looking for a savior
Hoping to get by on time served and good behavior
I left you in a daydream--I saw you in a cloud
Hypnotized by changing seasons
Wrapped up in a shroud
Now everything's exploding
Bombs bursting in the air
The proof is in the ritual and we haven't got a prayer
There's a house on fire--sirens are screaming
Here I am dreaming of a blue desire
Making me shiver--smoke on the river--sparks in the night
A fun song from a long time ago. There's just something about scrambled eggs that set you right up--and I love to slip in puns when I can. I wrote it when I was painting my sister's house in a Chicago suburb one summer. This one's always fun to play and is usually good for a laugh from the audience--I used to get lots of requests to sing this song.
Again, the electric guitar tracks were done with Dennis' Rickenbacker. Hearing the guitar solo makes me laugh, because I remember recording it early on a Sunday morning in my pajamas while everyone was sleeping. Aahh, the joys of a home studio... For a long time I wondered whether I could pull this one off by myself, because it's got kind of an odd rhythm and because I really liked the first recorded version of the song--which was done in a Seattle basement on May 18, 1980 while Mount St. Helens was erupting. But I like the way this version turned out.
Went to get some breakfast at the local greasy spoon
Where the silverware is aluminum and the jukebox plays the tunes
Waitress took my order--she must have weighed a ton
She stuck a pen behind her ear and said "How ya want 'em done?"
And I said scrambled, scrambled
Crisp bacon on the side
I really need some scrambled eggs 'cause last night I got fried
They cooked 'em up short order style and served 'em steaming hot
I had asked for whole wheat, though--they said "White is all we got"
I ate those eggs and stretched my legs and found the door marked Men
I ran into a high-school buddy and he said "Hey, how ya been?"
And I said scrambled, scrambled
Last night was way too much
But I just had some scrambled eggs and now I'm back in touch
Don't want poached or boiled or fried--I'm not like other folks
I just hope you like this song and laugh at all my yolks
Sometimes I get serious and sometimes I get mean
Sometimes I have a dirty mind and sometimes I get clean
The twentieth century is over now and I ain't changed my mind
No runs, no hits and lots of errors, I'm leavin' it behind
Cause everything's scrambled, scrambled
Mixed up just like a stew
Well I'm just tryin' to have some laughs, there ain't much else to do
Scrambled, scrambled
Not red or green or blue
Scrambled's how I feel today and I will tomorrow, too
I think this song is fairly straightforward, kind of a men-are-from-Mars, women-are-from-Venus statement. Men struggle to understand women, and vice versa. We hurt each other, and keep doing it despite ourselves. And when we're ready to check out we still struggle to hang on. Some might think it's pessimistic, but I really think it's pretty honest. Okay, okay, so the bridge lyric is a tad cynical...
I started this one a few years ago but didn't finish it then, because I knew it was a duet and I didn't know anyone to sing the other part. Then I met someone at an open mic to sing the female vocal, and we performed it once, I think. But then I got lucky--I met MJ and asked her to sing on it, and I think she really nailed it. She's a great singer of her own stuff, but I really love the way she sings this. When we were recording it she was having an allergic reaction to our cat, which was not fun--but she persevered. Let's see, what else? I had fun playing the organ. And the guitar solo in the middle is not Dennis' Rickenbacker, but my trusty old Guild acoustic played through a nasty-sounding effect.
Had a great education - I read all of them books
But the opposite sex's chromosome Xs, glances and looks
Were all so mysterious - catching me unaware
So I asked my teacher as she let down her hair
Why's the sunrise so hopeful
That's the way that things happen
And the sunset so sad
That's the way that things go
Why is love so elusive when you need it to grow?
Been in strange situations - I've seen beautiful sights
Gone from down in the gutter to the greatest of heights
As a meaningful icon and a bad metaphor
I've been loved like a baby and despised like a whore
Why's the sunrise so hopeful
That's the way that things happen
And the sunset so sad
That's the way that things go
Why is love so elusive when you need it to grow?
The journey is long and the road never ends
We break every promise and then make amends
These forces that attract us and pull us apart
Are like poison-tipped arrows aimed straight for the heart
When the summer is over and the leaves have all turned
And we try to remember everything that we learned
Though we see through the distance and we stand unafraid
We still try to hang on to the light as it fades
Why's the sunrise so hopeful
That's the way that things happen
And the sunset so sad
That's the way that things go
Why is love so elusive when you need it to grow?
Why is love so elusive when you need it to grow?
My little love song to Seattle, written a couple of years after I moved here when I was still quite infatuated. The idea was to paint a verbal portrait of morning, afternoon and evening in my adopted home town. It's a bit on the sentimental side, but I think the images hold up well enough. I did some fine tuning of the lyrics a few years ago. I've been told that it's against the rules to title a song with a word that doesn't appear anywhere in the song. Oh well.
The vibes were a spur-of-the-moment idea in the recording studio to complement the acoustic guitar--I knew the song needed something, but I wasn't sure what. I think the vibes worked out well. There's not much substance in the instrumentation--it's pretty sparse, but the hi-hat reverb fills up the space a bit. The strings in the middle might be a bit on the sweet side, but I like things sweet once in a while.
Houses on the hillside in the soft grey light of dawn
The smell of roasting coffee--silver frosting on the lawn
Morning sun is shining as the morning chill retreats
Here beside the mountains where the land and water meet
Greenery surrounds you--treetops swayin' in the breeze
Mountain view horizons in all directions if you please
Perfumed flowers everywhere, it all seems so complete
Here beside the mountains where the land and water meet
Seagull songs and cloudy skies
Looking into strangers' eyes
Like Crackerjacks--there's always a surprise
Underneath the streetlight two lovers say goodbye
While up above the skyscrapers the big jets kiss the sky
The ferry whistle moans beneath the traffic on the street
Here beside the mountains where the land and water meet
Here beside the mountains where the land and water meet
by Bonnie Koloc
I've played this song for a long time, and audiences always respond to it well. I've wanted to record it for a long time--I'm not aware of any other recording of it except Bonnie's, which is from the early 1970s. This arrangement is the way my old friend Tom Dundee (a great songwriter from Chicago) did it--I'm not sure if he still performs it or not. There's just something about the lyric that I connect with very deeply. I had a pretty happy and normal childhood myself, but have always appreciated the fact that children struggle with the blues as much as anyone.
The arrangement on the album is quite basic--I wanted to keep it close to how I perform the song live. I added bass and a little percussion to provide a more solid foundation, and then just a touch of keyboards to provide some color.
I wrote this song during the buildup of lies and deceit that led to the current war in Iraq. My idea was to write from the perspective of a 12 or 13-year old girl--maybe from Baltimore, maybe from Baghdad--trying to make sense of what was going on, but I got stuck figuring out who she would be saying these things to. I made the acquaintance of a musician named Rob Harmon at a songwriting circle at the house of my friend Brad Warren (another great songwriter and a magnificent singer), and we sat down one afternoon to bounce ideas off of each other. Rob gave me the idea to have the song's narrator talk to a younger sibling, and from there it just clicked. Thanks, Rob.
Again, the arrangement on the album is pretty basic. I don't know how I stumbled on the idea of the heartbeat ostinato, but I think it keeps the song well-grounded. The guitar sounds kind of brazen, and the synth (hopefully) tempers the sound of the guitar. The synth also helps the chorus build to a peak each time it's repeated. The extra percussion in the bridge sounds simple, but was more of a challenge than I thought it would be--I think it works OK, though.
You never had nightmares before 9/11
But since then you shout in your sleep every night
Sometimes I shake you awake just to hug you
I wish there was more I could do to make you feel alright
I'm your big sister but I can't explain
This talk of invasions, bombings, and guns
Let's just pretend that the world isn't crazy
Tomorrow we'll play hide and seek in the sun
Now everyone’s nervous but no one can stop it
It's like a hurricane rain, or a teacher who lies
When I saw some pictures of war in a magazine
It made me feel so bad I wondered if God even tries
I'm your big sister but I can't explain
I'm scared of the sadness inside everyone
But we can pretend that the world isn't crazy
Tomorrow we'll play hide and seek in the sun
Don't be afraid--Mom will protect us
I'll walk to school with you--we'll be okay
When Daddy finds work he will be strong again
Nobody knows why it's taking so long
Some people say that the head of our country
Is out of control and a fool in disguise
All that I know is that after the news
Mom sometimes goes in the kitchen and sits down and cries
I'm your big sister but I can't explain
Sometimes I feel like there's nowhere to run
Each night I pray that the world won't go crazy
So we can still play hide and seek in the sun
Men and women again--by god, it's practically a theme. The title phrase just stuck in my head one day, and I immediately had the idea to write a song from both his and her perspectives--from the giddiness of a new relationship to the point when each person finds themselves longing for how it used to be so long ago. So many people ride this roller coaster--sometimes it's scary and sometimes it's fun. I guess the trick is to remember that it's just one more ride at the amusement park.
Structurally this song is a bit unusual--chorus, verse 1, verse 2, bridge, and then a slight variation of the chorus. I know I broke some basic songwriting rules with this approach, but my intentions were good, Your Honor, really they were. I think it's good to break the rules once in a while. Rob Harmon suggested the hold on the word chill, which I think was an excellent suggestion--thanks again, Rob. Another spare arrangement--nothing fancy here. The guitar is pushed along by the bass, and the percussion on the backbeat also helps it move along.
For better, for worse are the words that we use
when two lives are tied up like a bow
But ribbons unravel sometimes when hearts travel
to places they'd rather not go
She glows at the promise of an autumn romance
In the light of the late summer sun
Like a moth to a flame he is drawn to her essence
Consumed as the two become one
But the hourglass sandbox - it trickles away
And those looks and the laughter get lost
She searches for reasons in the changing of seasons
And the chill of the oncoming frost
For better, for worse are the words that she said
And their meaning gets lost now and then
In both good times and bad she wants what they had
When things started, so long ago when
He dreams of her kisses, dives into her eyes
And believes in love stronger than stone
The sound of his name on her lips drives him further
Than anything he's ever known
But the hourglass sandbox - it trickles away
And the times in between them grow few
Until hard words get spoken--the feeling gets broken
And he wonders if love can be true
For better, for worse are the words that he said
and he thinks of them now and again
He wonders if they're for naught - those dreams that they bought
When things started, so long ago when
The laugh of a child
The times of their lives
So happy and sad are these husbands and wives
For better, for worse are the words that we use
when two lives are tied up like a bow
But ribbons unravel sometimes when hearts travel
to places where they need to go