This song has been growing on me more and more. My favorite lyric from this song:

“Let’s shift through the static to find a simpler sound.”

Kevin Devine - Cotton Crush

The bricks get laid,
and they get torn up,
and laid again,
but the bricks always get torn up again.

Your friends won’t wait,
so don’t believe that shit,
when they say they’ll wait.
Trust me; your friends will not wait for you.
Then you’ll be stoned in some park,
just nodding your head and pinching your arms,
when a girl walks along.
She’s humming your song,
with your t-shirt on.
That’s when you’re done,
Oh, that’s when you’re done…

There’s a cotton crush
down in the southern states.
But back up here, man, we’ve got
so much thread and space
to waste, waste, waste.

There’s a microphone
picking every word up
and it shuts itself off
when it’s sure that’s its heard enough…..

The quiet can scrape
all the calm from your bones,
but maybe it should.
Maybe we need to be hollowed
to get up and grow,
and stop fucking around,
to kick off our braces and start straightening out.
Let’s sift through the static
to find a simpler sound
Let’s sift through the static
to find a simpler sound…
simpler sound than the shit that’s clouding our heads now.

I just recorded a VERY rough cover of The Weakerthans’ song ‘My Favorite Chords”. The lyrics are some of my favorite ever written.

They’re tearing up streets again. They’re building a new hotel. The Mayor’s out killing kids to keep taxes down, and me and my anger sit folding a paper bird, letting the curtains turn to beating wings. Wish I had a socket-set to dismantle this morning. And just one pair of clean socks. And a photo of you. When you get off work tonight, meet me at the construction site, and we’ll write some notes to tape to the heavy machines, like “We hope they treat you well. Hope you don’t work too hard. We hope you get to be happy sometimes.” Bring your swiss-army knife, and a bottle of something, and I’ll bring some spraypaint and a new deck of cards. Hey I found the safest place to keep all our tenderness. Keep all our bad ideas. Keep all our hope. It’s here in the smallest bones, the feet and the inner-ear. It’s such an enormous thing to walk and to listen. I’d like to fall asleep to the beat of you breathing in a room near a truckstop on a highway somewhere. You are a radio. You are an open door. I am a faulty string of blue christmas lights. You swim through frequencies. You let that stranger in, as I’m blinking off and on and off again. We’ve got a lot of time. Or maybe we don’t, but I’d like to think so, so let me pretend. These are my favourite chords. I know you like them too. When I get a new guitar, you can have this one and sing me a lullaby. Sing me the alphabet. Sing me a story I haven’t heard yet.

My Dad was Rick Curtis; he made his very small mark in the music business in the 60s and 70s as a songwriter and musician. He was in multiple bands, one of them being Crazy Horse. He and my uncle were in the Crazy Horse line-up circa early 1970s and on the album, Crazy Horse at Crooked Lake. He also co-wrote many songs, one of which went platinum, called “Southern Cross” and is on the Crosby, Stills, and Nash album “Daylight Again”.

He knew lots of cool people and played music with the likes of Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks (before they were in Fleetwood Mac). After they joined up with Fleetwood, they borrowed one of my Dad’s songs called “Blue Letter” and that also went platinum.

I say all this not to be braggy, but to draw attention to the fact that my Father was good at pursuing a music career, but he died alone in his apartment in his mid-fifties. He lived fast and loved many, he was a great artist and musician (so many people say) but he never settled down. He was married multiple times, had multiple children, but in the end he was alone.

He was my Dad for about three years. My parents had a very tumultuous relationship, ruined completely by substance abuse, and ending with a definitive separation in which my Mom left town with me and came to Panama City without looking back. I never saw him again. He died when I was 9.

They both contributed to the demise of their relationship.

I like to think that my Dad stayed away from me, not because he didn’t love me, but because he felt inadequate. After three failed marriages and three attempts at being a Father (spread out over 20 years) he couldn’t subject me to what he subjected my half brother and sister. Basically, he gave up trying.

I am not like Rick Curtis, he was in many ways a talent that only comes around once in a while. He was artistic and musical to his core. He could sing and play just about any instrument. He was a painter. I compare myself often to him, thinking about how much I wish I could have a brain that can compose well written songs, one after another (minus the crazy addictions).

My love for music is ingrained in me. Most of my first memories are around guitars and microphones. My parents toted me to their shows (my Mom played drums) and many times I was handed to someone they knew at the bar. My very first dream was wanting to sing and play guitar. 

Fast forward years later when I started singing and leading worship in church, which lead to me meeting my husband. 

Early in our marriage I remember going to a show at the Corner Coffee House (aka Eastgate) and seeing the band Forever Changed play (they were so good). I had seen bands play before, many of which I enjoyed, but I left feeling different that night. It was like a spark had been ignited in me. I knew I loved playing music, but from that point on I felt like I should be making music with others. I knew I was supposed to be in a band. 

The idea of being in a band up to that point seemed pretty weird to me. Mainly because the thought of being in a band reminded me of this unattainable goal that the whole of my family, the Curtis clan, learned about the hard way. My Father chased a dream for his entire life and ended up alone. Instead of being glad that he had accomplished a musical career that most people could only dream of attaining, he ended up unhappy with no one to share his memories with. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to be so idealistic that my family suffered, or end up dying alone never feeling fulfilled.

After seeing Forever Changed perform I left feeling like being in a band and making music with people would be fulfilling and awesome. We didn’t have to be signed by a label, or play in front of thousands of people. We could just hang out, play music, and make friends. 

So as many (possibly few) of you may know, I was in a band for four years called Save the Ship. We didn’t pump out chart-topping-hits, but we did have a lot of fun and we built lasting friendships with awesome people. I look back on that time in my life and I am so grateful for it.

I have a beautiful son now, and I would never leave him for the prospect of fame, or another hit song. He gets to see his mommy make music and still hang around. He gets to see his Daddy make music, record people, and get joy out of the process.

I may not have a platinum record, but my life is awesome.

Me and Ashley Rader recently formed a little group called Dormouse….she came over tonight and we recorded Transatlanticism by Death Cab for Cutie. It was recorded after about 2 run-throughs so it sounds kinda rough, but we had fun. More to come soon!

Song of the Day:

Wake Up - Arcade Fire

Something filled up 
My heart with nothing
Someone told me not to cry

But now that I’m older
My heart’s colder
And I can see that it’s a lie

Children, wake up
Hold your mistake up 
Before they turn the summer into dust 

If the children don’t grow up
Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up
We’re just a million little gods causing rainstorms 
Turning every good thing to rust

I guess we’ll just have to adjust

With my lightning bolts a-glowin’
I can see where I am going to be
When the reaper, he reaches and touches my hand

With my lightning bolts a-glowin’
I can see where I am going
With my lightning bolts a-glowin’
I can see where I am going

You better look out below! 

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique, like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see. And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me.
#fleetfoxes #helplessnessblues

I have been dealing with some insomnia lately….fueled by my brain’s inability to shut off when it’s supposed to. I usually take benadryl to help me to dose off, but that hasn’t been working. I went to the doc and was prescribed a mild anti-anxiety medicine that made me feel like I got hit by a truck the next day. I just want a good night’s rest without having to medicate myself…. 

I have a beautiful life and a wonderful family surrounded by awesome friends, so why am I having problems with sleep? The doc said it could be hormonal (since I had a baby) or it could be some stress/anxiety (obviously). 

The truth is I am so tired of myself. I don’t want to really think about me or my problems, I want to find something productive to do with my life other than figuring out stuff that has to do with me. I want to help people, and truly care about others more than myself. I want to do something that makes an impact….in a small way, or a big way.

Anyway, I will be fine. 

Death Cab for Cutie is my favorite band. I have a great love for this band and for the honesty conveyed in their lyrics. Ben Gibbard is a lyricist that I strive to emulate. His lyrics aren’t contrived…he just says what he feels and that is extremely difficult to do in songwriting (do well).

Below is the lyrics to a song called “You are a Tourist”

I especially like the line: When there’s a doubt in your mind, cause your thinkin’ all the time…

When there’s a burning in your heart
An endless yearning in your heart
Build it bigger than the sun
Let it grow, let it grow
When there’s a burning in your heart
Don’t be alarmed

This fire grows higher

When there’s a doubt within your mind
Because you’re thinking all the time
Framing rights into wrongs
Move along, move along
When there’s a doubt within your mind

When there’s a burning in your heart
And you think it’ll burst apart
Or there’s nothing to feel
Save the tears, save the tears
When there’s a burning in your heart

And if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born
Then it’s time to go
And define your destination
There’s so many different places to call home
Because when you find yourself the villain in the story you have written
It’s plain to see
That sometimes the best intentions are in need of redemptions
Would you agree?
If so please show me

I got some music in the works right now….posting soonish :)

This is my first entry in my blog devoted to songwriting. I am going to post covers of my favorite songs and some originals too.

Here is one of my favorite songs by The Carpenters…. I definitely can’t outsing Karen Carpenter, but I really like this song so I thought I would pay homage to it.

This was poorly and hastily recorded on garage band ….

Here are the lyrics:

Long ago and oh so far away

I fell in love with you, before the second show

Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear

But you’re not really here, It’s just the radio


Don’t you remember you told me you loved me baby

You said you’d be coming back this way again baby

Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, baby

I love you, I really do



Loneliness is a such a sad affair

And I can hardly wait, to be with you again

What to say to make you come again

Come back to me again

And play your sad guitar