A song for Beatrice and one for me:
Update on the ongoing music project . . .
Turn them on, turn them on
Turn on those sad songs
When all hope is gone
Why don't you tune in and turn them on
They reach into your room
Just feel their gentle touch
When all hope is gone
Sad songs say so much
--Elton John & Bernie Taupin, "Sad Songs"
For those of you who have asked about the status of the latest songwriting reunion between Bazz and I, it's going--touch wood-- fabulously. Once again proving that it really is darkest before dawn. A couple of months ago, I was ready to leave my pop-music pen in its inkwell for good. Who knew? Certainly not me.
Artistically, this collection of songs is the nexus of a complex series of projects: The Formal Absence of Precious Things, a CD designed to be its own listening experience; Formal Absence, a novel about the fluidity of memory of a retired songwriter whose last set of songs was The Formal Absence of Precious Things; and Formal Absences, a theatre piece (containing some of the songs from The Formal Absences of Precious Things along with other songs) that tells a story different from either the song cycle or the novel.
As an artist, I am experimenting with the radical repurposing of my own work, imposing on it three different media and teasing-out three different messages.
Years ago, the Australian artist David Hockney photographed large objects like desert cacti with a handheld Polaroid camera, moving it slightly between shots until, say, 45 photos captured the scene. When Hockney then assembled the photos into a mosaic, a cubistic vision was revealed that often said more than an Ansel Adams silver print of the same subject. In a similar fashion, these three art projects are the equivalent of me circling around the a single set of themes, cubistically capturing them in ways that shatters the smooth surfaces of reality and fractures the stories we like to tell ourselves about our lives.
Apart from the obvious sharing of certain materials, are the projects independent of one another? Not necessarily. The novel's "author" may turn out to be one of the characters in the book. And further, "Kevin Sheridan" also appears in the novel, which calls into question the absolute accuracy of the novel on a number of levels and potentially leaves open the possibility that the protagonist of the novel may have also authored the tangental theater piece. Or not. Additionally, it isn't clear whether the CD version of The Formal Absences of Precious Things is the original collection being remixed in the novel or the resulting remastered edition.
Why all of these smudgy edges between the projects? First, because objectivity does not exist anywhere under any circumstances, including empirical data. Objectivity and empiricism are simply states of rigorously controlled subjectivity, not its elimination. And second, because art exists to puncture the myth of objectivity, but too often replaces it with a subjectivity that follows its own equally unquestioned logic. What I'm trying to do with these three interleaved projects is to upend art's often codified unconventionality.
Which somehow brings us to official roll-out of the latest two song demos from the CD version of The Formal Absences of Precious Things: "On Your Own (Beatrice's Song)" and the not-quite title cut, "Formal Absence." Although the final structuring of the collection is still being decided, you could make a pretty good case for these songs being in-tandem conclusions of the two major storylines of the collection. Beatrice moves ahead to a new life, while our nameless antihero is left in a limbo of his own creation. In short, something for everybody, and the possibility of simultaneous happy and sad endings. Maybe. Because I have some other ideas I'd also like to play with.
A few self-serving words about the songs. "On Your Own (Beatrice's Song)" is certainly in the top ten songs that Atlas/Sheridan have penned over the last 30 years. I think it may displace "I Love You Now" as the best lyric I've ever written. Oh, fuck it: Look, it's probably our best song to date, period. (I hasten to add that I do not speak for Bazz here.) I'm also extremely pleased with "Formal Absences" because both the words and music work hard to ground what might have been a too-abstract metaphor at soul-deep level. This collection features my experimentation with what I call "jewel-box lyrics;" tiny, minimal verses design to still have maximum emotional impact. From the standpoint of Bazz, the additional musical elbow room these lyrics give him is either welcomed or a curse. Thus far, "Formal Absence," along with "Hold On", suggests that the jewel-box experiment is more successful than we could have hoped . . .
And finally, those of you who been following the evolution of the CD might be interested in the progressively more polished versions of some of the previously written songs that have supplanted their respective ancestors without fanfare. For everyone's convenience, including my own, I've indexed the adjunct song-cycle site, allowing visitors to go directly to specific songs. Here's a handy link list that will also be featured at the top of the The Formal Absences of Precious Things website:
Note: While all the links lead directly to their respective songs, whether you find anything there beyond the lyrics depends on whether the song in question is deemed ready for prime time. However, a significant number of demo'ed songs have been posted.
