Mellow

"Mellow" is a song from freshman year of college. During that year it seemed that several times, I met someone cool and then did not see them for a long time. One problem was that we didn't have common activities. A secondary problem was that, despite a mutual admiration, sometimes we just didn't have many common experiences, so ultimately the vibe wasn't there. Occasionally, this would change and I'd reconnect with them, but not that often.

This was one such story, of the non-reconnecting variety. Early on freshman year, I went to a dance with a girl who I thought I got along with pretty well, but then she simply disappeared. At the time, this was "inscrutable" to me, but eventually I remembered that there was no conversational repartee at the dance to speak of.

It's from the album "In the Studio." I laid this one down at my high school's recording studio, on a break from college. Yes, and produced it myself as well:
http://amiestreet.com/listen/song/shareListen/1210401/

Nostalgia

"Nostalgia" was originally written as a farewell song to friends from summer camp, at the point when we were going our separate ways off to college. I then reprised it when I changed high schools after 10th grade. Finally, when I recorded it during senior year of high school, it took on a new meaning in the four-song cycle. It represented the stage in which one looks fondly back on past unrequited love and with a shrug, chooses to emphasize the bright points. So now, the full cycle goes like so:

Song
1) A Picture of You: Love's first bloom
2) Amiss: It is not requited
3) Three Years Too Late: It may be requited, upon flimsy bases
4) Nostalgia: "Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"

Here it is, from the album "In the Studio," featuring some neat sax fills from Ian Smolkin, and some overdubbed harmonic high voices towards the end which are purely creatures of the studio:
http://amiestreet.com/listen/song/shareListen/1210399/

Three Years Too Late

After my freshman year of high school, I moved from Middletown, CT to Albuquerque, NM. One of my buddies in Connecticut told me that he had been talking to a certain girl we knew and told her that I was a big rock star in New Mexico. In middle school I'd had a big crush on her, and the song "Almost Close" is loosely based on that - the chick had no interest. But my friend told me that now, hearing the fictitious story that I was a well-known musician in the Southwest, she suddenly was interested in re-connecting with me.

I wasn't having this. I thought, "Baby, this is three years too late. You had your chance. L-train has left the station."

This is the third song in the initial four-song cycle from "In the Studio." First we had the blooming romanticism of "A Picture of You," then the unrequited love of "Amiss." This song follows with some good 'ol teenage angst over the superficial motivations which animate and frustrate adolescents to no end. Great menacing bass riffs from Sanjay Chandran and cool jazz-influenced drum grooves by Jon Kouba.

And here it is:
http://amiestreet.com/listen/song/shareListen/1210397/

Amiss

The second track which I recorded and sent with my college applications was "Amiss." In tenth grade, I went to a movie with a certain girl who had already told me she wanted to be "just friends." I hoped the experience of being on the date would magically change her mind. Not this time. The next day, I wasn't feeling so hot. I took a long walk around my neighborhood, listening to the Jimi Hendrix Experience album, "Axis/Bold as Love." I knew that through the transcendent power of his guitar and through his plaintive and soulful voice, Jimi felt my pain.

The first track in the series, "A Picture of You," shows the blooming sentiment of a crush. "Amiss" is the stage of realizing that this is, and probably will continue to be, unrequited.

Ian Smolkin again delivered, with a really nice improvised saxophone part. This is from the album, "In the Studio":
http://amiestreet.com/listen/song/shareListen/1210395/

A Picture of You

During my junior year of high school, I became very fond of a gymnast in my Trig/Precalc class. She also shared my fondness for the Animaniacs show. It was not to be, but the song remained. The next year, my high school's counselor on college guidance suggested that I record a few songs to send with my college applications. So I picked four of my songs and rounded up some buddies, who helped me lay down the tracks in a local Albuquerque studio. This was the lead song. The flute parts were improvised by Ian Smolkin, who also played on "Keryn" and "Blue Rain" from the album "Jazz & Blues" (see earlier entries on the blog). My hat is off to Ian for his great contribution to the song's theme.

Ian and I played the song at the school talent show, and at a coffeehouse in downtown Albuquerque. As we walked offstage after the coffeehouse gig, a woman said to me, "You'll get your woman when you're 40." At first I thought this was a diss; she was predicting I wouldn't find my woman for another 25 yrs b/c women younger than that wouldn't really dig me. But you see, this woman might have been 40 herself. I was flattered.

Here it is, from the album, "In the Studio":
http://amiestreet.com/listen/song/shareListen/1210393/

PS: I "got my woman" sooner than predicted. Rebekka and I started dating in college when I was 22 and got married when I was just a few weeks shy of 27. And it's been a great 9 yrs!

Pretty Princess

In high school, I could not pass up a chance to lampoon a certain type of ditzy girl, the "Pretty Princess." I knew some male ditzes too, but they didn't inspire me to sing.

From the album "Lee Istrail-LIVE," recorded in college:
http://amiestreet.com/listen/song/shareListen/1210447/

The Cliff Song

A friend who turns foe and tries to settle his argument with a gun. "The Cliff Song" is a flight of fancy which I wrote in high school. While I have never actually been chased by a gun-toting villain, this song captures my apprehension that my innocence would sometimes be dangerous. As Bob Dylan sang, "I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn."

From "Lee Istrail-LIVE," recorded in college:

http://amiestreet.com/listen/song/shareListen/1210433/