Steve:
To remind you of the plot, here’s what we said last time around:

Our protagonist has found that despite her exterior charms, Coie’s interior contains something ugly, dangerous, and tenacious. He’s taken off in hopes of putting some permanent distance between himself and his former inamorata. Coie, though, always knows what she wants and she has some unconventional ways of getting it…

The first song told the story of how said protagonist had hidden himself away in some remote rural paradise so as to put some distance between himself and the crazy Coie. In “Storm Crow,” he finds that despite making his escape for the best of reasons, he still misses the woman that almost destroyed him.

I sometimes miss people I know were bad for me. That seems like a weakness, since I fully accept the idea that some people are not meant to be together and no matter how many times they have rapprochements, sign cease-fire agreements, settle their differences, there can be no lasting peace between them. Why do we always want the things we shouldn’t, we cannot have?

The lyric itself was mostly written during a day of walking around Manhattan between engagements with various friends and business relations. I often find that as I’m walking between places, my mind will open and present all sorts of ideas. I had earlier thought of the Storm Crow as a metaphor for someone who flies into your life and sows discord, but initially I didn’t know quite how to use the idea. My initial notes treated the idea of a bird too concretely. What I eventually realized is that I should just set the scene and the storm crow would speak for itself. I chose something like a blues structure, with some repetition followed by a resolution, and then hoped that Rick would totally ignore that when scoring it, which he did.

On that day in Manhattan, there really was a couple sitting at a fountain kissing and laughing, as in the second verse. It was the one at Columbus Circle. It was a windy day and the water kept spraying me as I jotted down the words that they had suggested, and I felt a little guilty that I was forecasting doom for their relationship when they seemed so happy.

Recorded in Aug 2009, in Rick’s Home Studio

Steve: Vocals
Rick: Electric guitars, electric bass, synth/drum programming

Per Steve’s comments, the blues structure in the lyric was apparent to me, but I didn’t go down that path musically for a couple of reasons. First off, I honestly didn’t think I could pull it off convincingly – I’m good at some things, but blues guitar isn’t one of them. But it also didn’t fit how I read the song – I wanted this song to sound angry, not contemplative. Along those lines, I abandoned the acoustic guitar for the recording on this one (although I did come up with the main riff on it during my initial flurry of writing back in Oct 2008). I’ve known people resembling the version of Coie reflected here, who I truly liked but for one reason or another were a source of bad reactivity when we were together. Yet, even knowing that, a lot of the time I kept going back for more of it – that’s the root of the anger I envisioned the speaker feeling during Storm Crow. I still miss the good parts of those relationships, but I guess I’m a little wiser these days in that I recognize that the negatives are sufficiently bad that it’s best to not even take a single puff.

Looking at it now, the “recorded” date above isn’t quite accurate – it’s correct for the vocals, but the instrument parts came together in a very spread-out, iterative way. The original backing guitar and bass parts were recorded against a metronome prior to Steve doing the vocals, and when I subsequently added an initial cut at the drum track, things just didn’t sound tight enough. In Oct 2009, I went back and re-recorded a much better version of both the guitar and bass parts (with the benefit of having a real drum track to work against). The lead guitars in the chorus and solo sections came together the following weekend. Then, after a long hiatus (busy working on the other tracks…), I went back and re-did the drums again a few weeks ago (May 2010) to sync up the kick drum with the updated bass guitar, as well as adding some additional fills.

It seems to me that a boot-strapping process like the above is the only practical way to record, by oneself, a song that has a full-band sound. Spreading it out over some time also helps, because I can start to hear the already-recorded tracks from almost a third person perspective, which in turn makes it feel less like I’m trying to compose and balance everything simultaneously.

Storm Crow

They say I’m better off without you
They say I’m more myself
They say I’m better off without you
If you are someone else

I’m not sure I accept that
When I’m myself I’m bored
The days stagger like a drunkard
Bottle’s empty, wine all poured

If I’m so happy, why am I lonely?
If I’m so rich, why am I poor?
Why am I always listening for a Storm Crow at my door?

Couple sitting by a fountain
She’s not you and he’s not me
Couple sitting by a fountain
Sharing love and levity

By the morning she’ll be absent
There and yet not there
Last time you lay beside me
I couldn’t find you anywhere

If it’s torture, why am I longing
For resumption of that state?
Why can’t I keep from watching for a Storm Crow at my gate?

I’ve heard the universe is rational
It can’t explain the things we do
I’ve heard the universe is rational
Can’t explain why I’m missing you

When the winches cease their pulling
And the fulcrum’s spilled its load
Archimedes in the bathtub
Screaming space and time are bowed

If it makes sense, why am I crying
For the life we had back then?
Why can’t I keep from praying that you’ll come back again?
Storm Crow, back again

I’m told that there’s a mercy
Through pain you’re granted clarity
I’m told that there’s a mercy
Comes to save your sanity

There’s a glen deep in the forest
Barbed with thorns of sharp regret
If it comes, that’s where I’ll hide out
I’m not finished with you yet

If it’s sacred why am I listening
For a scream that quakes the trees?
I could tear down all these hollow walls
If you’d come back to me
Storm Crow, back to me