a collection of loose threads and scattered feelings from 2020. Most of these songs are unfinished. Some may reappear in the future, under different names, in different shapes. These songs represent an ending, of sorts, for me. The last 365 odd days have served as a chemical agent, stripping a warm and soft exterior. Stuff that mattered then is inconsequential now. There's less magic; I feel older. Not necessarily wiser, definitely more tired. A few of these songs are stories from my old world. All have these songs are things I thought about daily in 2020, and I frankly, want them out. I'm a looper. shit spins 'round and 'round my skull, a self propelling ouroboros of bullshit. I have a hard time letting go. This is me, letting go. I realized recently that I've relied on songwriting as therapy. I had the notion, that, if I articulated just the right thing in just the right way, I would experience a kind of rapture. That there is somekindof twisted thing inside of me that needs to be exorcised. I'm trying to get away from all of that. I think this will be the last phone recording release for awhile. I'm ready venture into different territories, try new things. I hope that whatever happens in 2021 is prettier.

Here are my skeletons.

1. What it's like to exist in my physical form. Attempting to articulate a silence i've been experiencing for some time. I think I wrote around August 2020, can't remember. It has a double meaning, i guess. I didn't notice the radiohead thievery until this morning, and I don't care enough to change it.
2. A self explanatory story. An example of looping. Written in May or June. I'm always turning back.
3. The first line of this song popped into my head during a smoke break at work. I got home from my shift and jotted down stream of consciousness gibberish/imagery that I thought sounded neat. The last verse is just me describing a bunch of installations at the mattress factory (I had just been there with my friend Dylan). Written in February, the only prepandemic song on here.
4. I've never read Proust. Not sure what else to say about this one. It's unfinished.
5. The most recent song on here, written in early November. I wanted to return to my folk singin' roots. Originally thought it was gonna be a throw away, ended up liking it. Lifted a couple images from Bobby D.
6. Oct, 2020. By a stroke of luck I was able to attend an online songwriting course taught by Dave Benton (trace mountains). The prompt was to lift an element from another song to create your own. I lifted the chord progression from Jackson C. Frank. And it's full brim with references to the songs I was listening to during the time it's about. It's the most true thing I've written. If you can name all the references, musical and lyrical, ya win a prize.
7. This is not my story. It's someone else's. It's many peoples', really. This is the first song that felt like it came from somewhere else, that I merely gave language to a thing that already existed. Started writing it in January 2020, 'finished' sometime in November. America likes to kill its brilliant women.

Thanks for reading.
until we gather again,
-Rowan.