ABOUT NIGHT OF THE POET

Night of the Poet was recorded on a sixteen track analog machine between June and November of 2001 at Guerrilla Recording in Oakland, California. The project was engineered, mixed and mastered by Myles Boisen, who is known in the Bay Area to be one of the finest, most affable, and affordable engineers in the region. Besides co-producing the project Myles also played bass on three tracks (1,3,7), sprucing up these songs with his usual calm panache. For those of you who enjoy a good bass line, I highly recommend you pay attention to these tracks, not only for your enjoyment, but for Myles' sake as well, given that during mix-down, while we were carefully deciding on bass levels he quipped, 'Hey, no one listens to bass lines anyway.'

On drums I was joined by my friend and housemate, Jenya Chernoff, whose band credits include Giant Ant Farm, Mumble and Peg and Mark Growden's Electric Pi'. I was quite glad when Jenya agreed to join me on this record because she combines a unique sense of percussive creativity with a powerful sense of rhythm and drive. Though Jenya hates the cymbal track we persuaded her to lay down for 'The River Song' in fact, I had to cajole her to do it with a bottle of single-malt scotch, I felt quite blessed to have her creative influence on this record. Incidentally, Myles and I both love the cymbal track!

The wonderful violin playing on this record is the work of Kathy Buys. I met her through the want ads in the local weekly in the autumn of 1998. Arriving at our predetermined meeting place, I was quite skeptical that anything should come of it (it's as hit and miss as dating through the personals, I thought, which, given all I have heard about that cultural phenomenon, gave me some cause for doubt, if not cynicism). But lo, we hit it off quite well and have been playing together ever since. Kathy is also a member of the Parnassus Symphony Orchestra in San Francisco and, adding to her versatility, she is also becoming versed in traditional Irish fiddle music.

Dawn McCarthy, who sings the lead angel part on The Cure, is quickly gaining notoriety in the Bay Area and beyond for her unique and powerful vocal work in her band Faun Fables. Matt Lebofsky, who plays bass on Sing Me a Lullaby, is one of the most talented and versatile musicians and composers I have encountered. He is soon to release a solo project in which he plays all the instruments; which, given the complexities of his arrangements, is no easy feat. Christina Sarver, who sings backing vocals on With the Wind is a regular performer in Chico, California, where she lures audiences into deep states of love and reverie through her music and her amazing presence. Also joining me on this record is the velvet-voiced Stephen Pittsenbarger on vocals and the eclectic and talented Samantha Black on cello.

ABOUT THE SONGS

While part of me is hesitant to commence with a sort of descriptive guide to this record, after all you are free to discover it for yourself, another part of me feels like telling you what the songs are about. Since meaning plays a large roll in my musical endeavors I feel you might like to know what it is I am exploring on this record.
The album begins with the title track, which is a story about my fictitious encounter with a wayward phantom poet, disguised as a homeless woman who is fruitlessly seeking out the truth through poetry. I wanted to write about this subject because within the teachings of all major religions, one is confronted with the paradoxical fact that truth can never be described in words, though this doesn't stop us from trying anyway. As Lao-tzu said: 'The name that can be named is not the eternal Name.' Still, we have given the eternal countless names. As it is said in Zen: We point the finger at the moon, but we must not mistake the finger for the moon. Of course, we do this all the time, and if this record stands as any kind of lesson to myself, it has done so by teaching me that no matter how much I write in an attempt to understand truth, such an understanding will never come through the writing. This doesn't keep me from writing, of course (I have got to do something with my time) though having an awareness of this truth does affect my relationship to the process.

With the Wind is a song about love, though to me it is not a love song. As a phenomenon, love is a very complex thing that can manifest in all sorts of ways, and is understood to be many different things by many different people. In the philosophical and spiritual arena, love as a concept and a phenomenon is an oft-discussed subject. In this song I explore the illusive quality of love and how to me, love tends to evaporate the moment you cling to it. I think we tend to seek out 'love' in hopes that it will serve as a kind of balm to our sufferings. No doubt it can serve this purpose, but it is the love that isn't sought out, one that arises spontaneously and has no conditions, that best serves this purpose because it has no intention, really no consciousness as to its purpose. Conversely, when you expect something specific from love, or from a lover, watch out!

The River Song is a love song. It is about appreciating a lover while acknowledging that love can be scary. This song uses the river as a metaphor for relationship. Realizing that all rivers wind up in the great, vast, mysterious expanses know as oceans, this song equates relationship with taking a ride down that river into the ocean. Sometimes there are rapids; sometimes the surface is so tranquil it provides a mirror into the heart; and sometimes the water is just too cold or turbulent, so you hang out on the banks watching it go by'.
Spanish Dragonfly is an instrumental piece I wrote as a descriptive ode to my friend Sandra. She fancies that her totem animal is a dragonfly. O.K. so a dragonfly isn't really an animal. Who's counting' As it is I have a stained glass dragonfly hanging in my window that Sandra, a very talented glass artist, gave me. Now she has a song, though I can't possibly imagine where she might hang it. As for the 'Spanish' part of the title, I will leave that to your imagination.

Sing Me a Lullaby reflects my interest and experience with musical theater. I studied opera in college and once upon a time put the majority of my musical interests into the theater. Though I will never rate as an opera singer, I wanted to write a song that challenged my vocal abilities, and I confess I remain unsure as to who won me or the song. Compositionally, I was seeking to write a song that was a blend between rock and roll and musical theater, one that employed the usual repetitiveness of pop songs with a more symphonic sense of movement. This song is about a relationship that just won't end, even though it ought to 'put me out of my misery (but kiss me first)' kind of song.
On a rare, hot summer morning in Seattle, my then housemate, Philip Dennison, came into my room wearing nothing but his Fruit of the Looms. Denizens of that great Northwestern city aren't terribly acclimated to temperatures above 75 degrees, hence the attire or lack thereof. Beside the underwear he wore his accustomed enthusiastic smile and, in his right hand, a sheet of paper containing the poem Watch in Your Pocket, which he had just penned. He asked me if I would like to set it to music. Since I was at that moment playing my guitar, I said sure. This song is an example of how I like to use the acoustic guitar as a rock and roll instrument. Who says you need juice to make juice'
Fear is a no-holds-barred exposing fear and how it operates. Though I have no real relationship with Christian mythology, other than what relationship I have acquired though simply being raised in a Christian culture, I chose to use the devil archetype to represent fear. He is deliberately a rather forbidding fellow in this song, so if this song gives you the heebie-jeebies then I have done my job. Dig Jenya's gong work in this song. From the very get go you know you're in for it. The subtle texture in the background of the mix is the result of a separate guitar track played through an amp that was in a separate room and then doused with a really cool effect that Myles found on one of his effects processors.

Daylight Again is a song I don't much care to comment on, save to say that being a purely poetic song, I'd like to leave the interpretation of it up to the listener. This is my personal favorite because it is so poetically rich and abstract, and its ambiance is at once dreamy and compelling.
I've left Seattle over two years ago, fleeing by necessity to sunnier climes. Since then my music has gradually become lighter and lighter. It's amazing what a little sunshine will do for you. Hell, I even discovered something I must have missed out on in Music Theory 101: Major Chords! Anyway, I never really wanted to leave that amazing city and its wonderful denizens, but living under a canopy of thick clouds for nine months of the year can take its toll on an already introspective sort such as myself. Under the constantly sunny skies of Oakland I was able to pen this instrumental ode to the Northwest, entitling it A Day in the Sun because I want to remember Seattle for its unparalleled beauty when the sun does shine.

Finally, there is The Cure. After Night of the Poet it is the oldest song on this record, finished sometime in late 1998. For years Kathy and I played this song as a duo, the rousing ending always getting excited applause from our audience. At some point, however, I decided that this song couldn't possibly rate without a full ensemble. Getting Steven Pittsenbarger and Dawn McCarthy to join Kathy in singing the angel parts really transformed this song into what it always wanted to be. And Samantha Black's contribution on the cello particularly the haunting, whale-like moaning during the angel solo lent an ambiance to the composition that I particularly liked. Singing on this song somehow gave Dawn the impression that I was a devout Christian, which I suppose is understandable, given the tone and subject matter, not to mention the cathedral-esqe ambiance all that reverb gives to it. When I invited her into the control room with a question I had for her, she feared I was going to try to convert her to Christianity. Laughing, I told her not to worry, given that I was in fact Mormon.

In truth, this song like myself has no religious affiliation. It is simply about surrender, albeit spiritual surrender. Still, it invites surrender not into some idea of god, but rather into pure being. If anything, it is about taking a look into the self and seeing truly what is there, or what is not there. This song serves as a reminder to myself that there is nothing of great importance to the self that resides in the past or in the future. Only right now can we come to see what really is, all else is really just the continuation of distraction. And with that I will put an end to this particular distraction and invite you to listen for yourself'.