The song burnished gold is written in a minor key (capo on the third fret) and I began the realization that where I was at spiritually was often best reflected in the deeper mournful yearning of minor keys. In fact at a certain point I had surrendered to the idea of writing an album completely in the minor realm. In the past I had always thought people would like to be uplifted through music pointing to major ( or as music teachers often call it) ‘happy’ chords. Music that makes you want to dance. But I was being led by something different. This lead me to create a concept album which begins in the more melancholic origins of self discovery but leads the listener or writer on a journey that faces the inner shadow squarely and through this stark awareness, leads them to a more relaxed space and acceptance of ‘what is’. Back tracking now…
The journey begins with Back At the Start, an apt title for a first song. It was inspired by a brief encounter with a radiant little baby, peering over his mothers shoulder…such innocence and joy. I reflected on this innocence and how we are conditioned by parents firstly and then society. We are filled with preconceptions and ideas that may or may not be true but we somehow become confused in our identity and some of us turn to drugs or therapy to unravel this conditioning. I see it like a helmet or uniform that we are told to wear. I then thought of my 4 grand parents that passed away in nursing homes. My Irish Grandad in particular had an interesting journey with Alzeimers and during my monthly visits he eventually forgot who I was or indeed his own wife. However he did seem rather happy and by all accounts he was content and loved his food. He was even known to wander off down the streets of Maroubra (where Mum was born) in search of….who knows. In some respects he was almost turning into a baby again hence I linked the memory of the baby with him and the title Back at the Start was born.
So in track 1, Back At the Start we contemplate the corruption of innocence by unwanted rules and conditioning that are designed to order us but may in fact constrain our ultimate freedom. As a new song states: we and they, build these structures to contain, but they hold back the growth. Burnished Gold (Track 2) looked at the old worlds and tribes and their connection to nature which are ‘signs like a roadmap, always knowing where to go”. But our path can unravel unpredictably and we can sometimes face loss and devastation. Until its Gone (Track 3) is a contemplation that often “we don’t really know how good it is until its gone”. Originally inspired by the death of the brother of one of my closest friends who has indigenous heritage, I used this as a metaphor for an American Indian warrior dealing with the grief of the death of his own brother and feeling his presence, sitting by the fire, hears his brothers totem animal the coyote … “wild cries in the distance’ your animal songs”. This song traverses minor sadness and lifts up in the chorus almost as a revelation to honour what we have here and now. The altro or end is the acceptance. I have played music at many funerals and see these as a celebration of one’s life but wonder about the irony that this happens after they are gone?
The title track of the album (track 4) follows, as this warrior, whom ambiguously may be of modern times or from the old world, is searching for “A Horse Called Freedom”. This is a metaphor for finding freedom within or through a connection with nature. My personal journey of living in a blended family with my two children and my partner’s two children has been emotionally challenging. Combine this with 5 jobs and still a burning desire to keep writing and recording musical ideas, I sometimes feel like a warrior albeit misguided at times.
This journey is not free from darkness and is coloured by the emotional upheaval of my own difficult upbringing. A family of 4, a very strict father, competitive brothers and all the conflicts apparent in the interrelationships between a family of six (6) (Note to Tumblr… dad has since mellowed like a bottle of red wine J ). Interactions in my own day to day can trigger these old wounds. This leads the warrior to paint his face, embodying his shadow. Removed from society, somewhere in the mountains, with the threat of rain is a metaphor for inner isolation and the emotional storms that can plague us. Throughout this isolation there are glimpses of this mythical white horse (also represented in the album artwork). Glimpses of a freedom that can lift the spirit beyond these sometimes chaotic worldly concerns.
The album’s central character re-enters society in ‘Must Start Moving’ (Track 5) but on the fringes only. Wandering with just a dog as a companion he finds deep solace in the solitude of loneliness and turns his gaze once more back to nature and its infinite support. The theme here for the character is not to get stuck. Not dwell unnecessarily in emotional confusion but to stay grounded and keep moving.
This theme is continued with Tears for the Road (Track 6) where a soul is dealing with the tremendous grief of losing his family in the Victorian bushfires. He couldn’t save them and watched them be burned alive. Horrifying. To tell someone to just move on would be disrespectful to them so instead the song explores leaving ‘tears for the road’ (Track 6) and highlighting that grieving is a process that ultimately can leave you to a lighter space. It is also touches on the journey from one place to another.
Thus we enter a transition from the dark into the light where in track 8 “good feelings will guide you to a home”. A metaphor for the inner home of knowing yourself and contacting your own inner power and strength and ability to self-nurture but also as a method of manifestation whereby the intuition is highlighted by genuine good feelings which if you choose this method of guidance may lead you towards self-actualisation.
Now as the transformation is near complete, the wounded warrior with the ‘broken wings’ meets the mythical ‘Firebird’ (Track 8) who becomes a spiritual healer and teaches him to ‘fly again’. This is similar to the rising phoenix that according to Greek mythology, is a long-lived bird that is cyclically regenerated or reborn. Recently after witnessing an indigenous ceremony meets white activist movement (CSG protest) I learned that the aborigines (traditional Australian custodians) saw the Black Cockatoo as a Firebird but also as the bringer of rain (more research required!)
So We Can See (Track 9) looks at the pressure of day to day living. We can all ‘crack like thunder’. It also looks at how long term relationships can lead to the drifting apart ‘phase’ through the mundane, the familiar, as we are ‘moving along like trains in the night with rattles and aches, and there’s splinters of light’. This metaphor draws on the themes of ships in the night which may arise from a lack of quality time spent between loved ones which can lead to feelings of isolation and friction. Again pointing ‘back to the start’ the quest for peace may require a connection to a greater spirit or power who can ‘strip us of the dark so we can see’. It also looks at the humanistic aspect of spirituality where each one of us can ‘light a candle’ for the other 'so we can see'.
'In the End' (Track 10) we are brought into modern times and we need not take it all so seriously. Despite the distractions of technology and being ‘sick and tired of a screen generation’ and as the painful process of the metamorphosis ends, the butterfly ultimately emerges from the cocoon and we move into that peaceful, breezy, connected space that dwells somewhere within the moment.
So as this first part of my journey ends…..another begins