Thank you to everyone who came to our release show (with the excellent Spelling Reform and Goodnight Lights!)—and to everyone who’s been cheering us on and listening to Evening Song from afar. Most of our performance is now on our YouTube channel.
Video by Ralph Rosen (Professor of Classical Studies, Emeritus)
Big thanks to the DJs at KZSU (Stanford University radio). We're their 2nd most-played artist!
Our album, Evening Song, is out today! We'd be thrilled if you took a listen.
Evening Song is the story of two people intoxicated with each other. Maggie and Chris have recently met, just started dating. Each sees the other as both impossibly attractive and illegible. They want to spend all of their time together, and they spend a good deal of it that way. They talk. A lot. Maggie tells Chris her life story and Chris reciprocates. She leans. They kiss.
For local-ish people, our release show will happen 11/2 at Ortlieb’s with friends Spelling Reform and Goodnight Lights! A ticket link is here.
A million thanks for caring about what we do!
xo
I helped install my friend as rector at Pine Street Presbyterian Church last weekend!Below is a brief clip of me playing the coda section of one of the two hymns I arranged and performed.
Related to our music making, many thanks to those who have listened to/said nice things about our two new songs. We appreciate it! The album comes out 10/11. xo
*New song alert* “Hadn’t Tried” is out today! Exceedingly hip, with thunderous drums and a choir of Ashley, you *will* love this song. It’s an all-time favorite of ours (and of Daniel Smith, who recorded and mixed it).
The new album, Evening Song, is out 10/11! You can pre-order it now.
Also, you can see us live, at our Philly release show, 11/2 at Ortlieb's! Also performing are friends Goodnight Lights and Spelling Reform. Snag tickets here.
[Show poster by moi (me). That's a double popsicle.]
We're thrilled to share our single "We Rifled Through" today!
The song is part of a new album, Evening Song, which you can pre-order via Bandcamp. It's a very fun and prepossessing album. The text is from the narrative poem I've shared a bit from, about a seminarian (Maggie) and a drummer (Chris).
Additionally, you can see us live!
9/6 - Mike's Tavern, Reading, PA - with And You, Brutus?
11/2 - Ortlieb's, Philadelphia, PA - Release show with Spelling Reform and Goodnight Lights
Sealed the deal! We'll perform in Reading, PA, at the legendary Mike's Tavern, on Sept. 6th! Joining us will be our dear friends And You, Brutus?. Music starts with us at 8 p.m. Getting there a smidge early for a seat is probably wise. There's no cover. Knock and the door will be opened to you.
Shows aside, our song "Everything Slant" was recently up for a Delaware Public Media award! That’s a nice thing.
Ekstasis published a chapter of my narrative poem, Evening Song!
To see it formatted correctly (the line breaks are meaningful!) flip your phone on its side, or read on a computer.
I’m wildly proud of this chapter and of the larger poem. After finishing the work, I set it to music (i.e., made songs out of it). In this specific chapter, Maggie explains how she turned out to be a religious person in a time and place where that is a fairly strange thing.
For people who love poetry: yes, this is in blank verse. For those partial to prose: you can read this like any other piece of writing—one of the appealing aspects of narrative poetry. The lines are there, though, should they catch your eye.
In honor of national poetry month, I thought I'd share a poem that I love and committed to memory. Here is "Acquainted with the Night" by Robert Frost.
I read some excellent books this year. I thought I’d share thoughts on just a few of them.
Aeschylus’ Oresteia, translated by Robert Fagles
There’s an interview with Fagles where he talks about studying Pope’s Iliad, being taught it was more than just an ad hoc translation; it was its own great, lasting work.
Fagles translation of the Oresteia easily fits that description. He was an incredible poet.
The Goodbye-Love Generation / Kori Frazier Morgan
I knew my friend Kori’s book would be good. It’s the best novel I read this year.
It follows the people of Kent, Ohio, from just before the era-defining KSU shooting to the present. There are many brilliant aspects of the book, one of which is that the shooting is not its focus. The people of Kent (those alive at the time and those born since) are the focus, and this elucidates the shooting in a way a history of the event itself could not.
Kill 'Em and Leave: Searching for James Brown and the American Soul / James McBride
Part bio of the greatest entertainer and creator of funk, part history of the poor southern communities that raised him, and part biography of its author (McBride agreed to write the book, pitched by a huckster, after his wife left him and took their money with her. McBride needed the cash.)--this book should not work. And yet.
Finally, I’m reading some Ted Hughes and came across his poem “Childbirth”. There are interesting parallels between birth, as it’s described by Hughes, and the moment of Jesus’ death in Matthew’s gospel.
When, on the bearing mother, death's
Door opened its furious inch,
Instant of struggling and blood,
The commonplace became so strange
There was not looking at table or chair:
Miracle struck out the brain
Of order and ordinary: bare
Onto the heart the earth dropped then
With whirling quarters, the axle cracked,
Through that miracle-breached bed
All the dead could have got back;
...
Thankful for a studio weekend and friends to make music with
Happy to share a recent live session! Our rendition of The Beatles’ "Oh! Darling" sounds particularly great. Also included are rocking versions of our "Alone at Waverly" and "Small Comforts".
Come see us at Porchfest this Saturday! We'll perform from 1-1:30 in front of 4837 Hazel.
Feel free to bring dogs, children, water ice, etc., to this informal event! What's that? You’ll hand us cold (unflavored) Perriers at the completion of our set? That’s so thoughtful.
Highlighting our song "Margaret" today, which tells the story of a very cool and unflappable single mom-to-be who throws her own baby shower.
To explain my compositional process, I wanted my guitar and harpsichord parts to be reminiscent of the classical era. That is to say, I wanted elegant, graceful voice leading for this elegant, graceful Margaret character I stumbled on. The lines my bandmates added, which I love (some of my favorite playing by Will, Dan and Mike), reminded me of 50s ballads, and that, in turn, prompted me to write the antiphonal backing vocals that Ashley sings so well. (For you lovers of Greek lit, the backing vocals are supposed to act as the chorus) My bandmates' parts also prompted me to switch to electric guitar, which enabled me to dial in the early rock n' roll tremolo. Previously, I played this one on a cheap classical acoustic guitar.
Various Small Flames reviewed our album Small Comforts! If you don’t already know, VSF’s Jon Doyle writes exceedingly well about new books and music. We’re regular readers. You can find Jon’s review of our new album here.
Our Philly release show will happen 3/24 at Ortlieb’s! Also performing are our great pals Spelling Reform and Camera Thief. A Facebook event lives here: https://fb.me/e/2iq7hiR5C.
Related, many thanks to everyone who's spent time with our album, Small Comforts! You're the best.
Our album Small Comforts is a new and notable release today on Bandcamp.
We’re over the moon.
Our album, Small Comforts, is out today! We're proud of it and we hope you enjoy it. You can get to the album via the below links. A lyrics booklet is here. (All of the songs double as short stories or poems.)
We're pleased to share "Alone at Waverly", a track from our upcoming album, Small Comforts.
Like John Prine’s “Hello In There”, our “Alone at Waverly” tells the story of older people. It’s somewhat of an homage to friends of mine, including a retired teacher. Lyrics are below.
—
Alone at Waverly / Eric Krewson
I live alone at Waverly. Have my own house with a big TV. Haven’t watched TV since the kids were young.
Lucinda passed three years ago. She was seventy. That sounds old, but it isn’t. Not really.
We had just moved here. Becky flew in from Arizona. Jenny drove from Tacoma. Brought the grandkids, brought the husbands. We bounced the babies on our knees, on our shoulders.
I still work, occasionally. Keeps me busy. Keeps me happy. And it’s something to do, anyway.
Oh, I miss Lucinda, miss teaching. Otherwise, I do just fine.
Say, John, could you hold a minute? Someone’s on the other line. Probably, Becky. She calls me every day.
Art by Heather Swenson
We're pleased to share "A Year Spent Floating", a track from our upcoming album, Small Comforts.
The setting for this song, written before the pandemic, is Zoom Evening Prayer. I've described it to friends as "The Mountain Goats meets Sleater-Kinney". I'm told it's one of our best. Lyrics are below.
—
A Year Spent Floating / Eric Krewson
I log on, see everyone in the group video chat. They can’t see me. “You see the camera with the line through it? Click that.” I click that, appear.
Seven of us in squares. Six squares in a row. One large square. Kendra explains, “Whoever’s talking moves to the large square.” She is, in fact, in the large square as she tells us this.
We begin. “Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” During intercessions, Jason raises his hand, lets us know he’d like to speak. He exhales deeply. He says since his brother passed—“Gosh, was that a year ago, now?”—he’s felt as if he’s been floating, just above himself, as if one of the two strings that tether the soul to the body has been cut. He’s holding onto his conscious self as a child holds onto a balloon. He’s exhausted from the effort. He says he’s scared, if he lets go, he’ll lose himself, be carried away.
We say it’s OK to let go. He’s reluctant, shakes his head, then says, “Aw hell. I’ll give it a shot.”
We sit in silence for one, two, three minutes. Jason opens his eyes. He’s surprised he’s still with us, surprised he’s still in the large square. He says he was scared for his family, scared his daughters would grow up like their cousins, fatherless.
Jason rubs his eyes with his fingers. Lets out a “Woo.” We tell him we love him. We promise to check in again next week.
We finish the prayers, sit in silence, and, one by one, log off.
Art by Heather Swenson