The gestation period of an elephant is 22 months, the longest of any mammal. The gestation period of a Paul Jacobsen & The Madison Arm album is, apparently, 25 months (not counting the 3 years before we even started recording). Take that, Babar.
I know I've been super annoying about this. For some of you, this is probably the 5th place you've been reminded. The truth: I hate self promotion more than most. But the album is ready and I would love for you to come out and celebrate with us.
I couldn't be more proud of this album. It took as long as it needed to take to get it how we wanted it- up to Montana, down in Provo, even some help from Brooklyn. It's a step forward in terms of writing, and has some moments that still give me the chills. blah blah blah. If you want to know other ways you can help this album do something, there's a list way down at the end of the post where nobody but my mom usually reads.
Opening the show are two great friends and favorite songwriters: Dominic Moore and Sarah Sample. Sarah just played the main stage at Folks Fest in Colorado, after winning their Songwriter Showcase last year. And Dominic just started his residency in Phoenix; oh, and he just wrote about 10 songs that absolutely destroy me. I couldn't be happier about the bill.
I'll be playing with The Madison Arm, our band that's finally sorting itself out. It's the most rewarding, most fun I've had playing music for as long as I can remember.
So come out and hear us. You will have a great time, I promise.
It was a quick and brutal transition, this swan dive into “people who only blog about their kids.” I’d like to say we put up a respectable fight, getting in a good gutpunch or cheapshot to the groin, but these 3 weeks have owned us. And now? We’re those new parents– the ones who can only muster up conversation about binkies and sleep cycles and latching, whose vocabularies ooze words that end in embarrassing diminuitives [onesies, binkies, toesies, poopies, kill-me-sies, etcsies.], who pontificate about the rich earthy swatches and Pollockisms of dirty diapers, who consider a stroll around the block an unqualified victory over the brutal taskmaster that is the Baby Bubble [and who would even dare use such a term], who overwhelm you with very similar-looking photos of the same, admittedly worship-worthy child. I have vowed to do better. Just not today.
Because today I'm on the hunt.
I’ve compiled a playlist of lullabyes that we play [along with a daily allowance of Beatles & Wilco & a steady diet of static] for Leo. It has some staples: Innocence Mission, Tom Waits, and a lot of the songs Scott Wiley produced for two not-to-be-judged-by-their-covers lullabye albums [a new one of which is in the works]. There might even be a Dixie Chicks song on our little playlist.
I’ve also been gathering songs about being a parent. My favorite parenthood-tackling album to date, with apologies to Bill Cosby, is Soft Spot by Clem Snide.
Eef, the band's principal songwriter, tackles marriage and parenthood on a very real, smart, sweet, funny level. I loved this album, thanks to cousin Mark, long before I was ever even married, so its greatness stands independent of my current context. There’s some Wilco and Beatles and Sarah Harmer and other great stuff in there too.
So, dear readers, this is my dual challenge for you: Help me complete these 2 playlists, one being a lullabye-ish playlist and the other having songs about being/becoming a parent. Take it to the comments.
Which brings us to my friend Dominic.
Two things keep me up at night these days. One is our resident night owl Leo [probably just trying to live up to the Leia Bell print on his nursery wall]. The other is Dominic. He writes some of the best songs I have ever heard, with a sort of effortlessness and swagger and sweetness and simplicity and smarts that you don’t hear everyday. Why does this contribute to my current state of sleep deprivation? Because he does it so well, in spite of the huge demands of medical school and moving west [what, what] and being a great dad and being an above-average husband. I used to go over to Dom & Katie’s apartment in Brooklyn to play music. Dom would nonchalantly trot out 3-4 new songs, like Cadillac Diamond or I've Got Family or Apocalypse Wow. Meanwhile, I would be nearing the 10th month of trying to complete the 2nd verse of some song of mine that wouldn’t even make the record. Needless to say, the train home rode rails of doubt and "why do you even try?"
I love Dominic- a great friend and a demoralizingly fine artist/songwriter. I'm pretty sure you'll love this song of his, fittingly about being a parent, performed with his new project, The Lower West. [Pay no mind to the video sync. Close your eyes, if that helps.]
