by Damian Weber
You are changing the direction of the setting sun
The peace in muted sound and color comes with twilight is undone
The pedals on the tulips open up as in a morning dew
I parked two blocks away—headlights dimmed just like you asked me to
“Setting Sun”—A scary, exciting tale of illicit love.
Yeah, I’ll be your secret / Yeah, inaudible drone
Yeah, under the radar / Yeah, tucked deep in your phone
This song scares the shit out of me. I love it because I feel it’s so real that it worries me about myself—who I was in the past, and the things I’ll do again—like falling in love with people I shouldn’t.
Your lashes long like spider legs, your perfect hair, your islet dress
The peace in muted sounds and colors comes with twilight is undone
You are changing the direction of the setting sun.
Yeah, I’ll be your secret / Yeah, inaudible drone
Yeah, come to the city / Yeah, no one will know
I could play this song getting ready to go out at night. It could be something like an anthem for both a good time, and a good time gone wrong. For doing something I know I shouldn’t, again. Not something evil, but something where I know I’m going to get hurt, and not care.
Farrell’s new album is great—Asterisk(*) is one of my favorite albums of 2020—ripping rock with the most direct lyrics from the tightest songs.
“Kisses on Blankets by The Sea”—The same way, in absolute value, I’m spooked out by the last song, this song makes me believe in the possibility of love and relationships (positive relationships).
I can feel you tug at my belt to pull me closer in
I can feel your arms around my waist, your whisper on my skin
But so many eyes are watching above crooked little smiles
Like they’ve never seen two people who walked down the rainbow aisle.
A personal song, a poem for Farrell’s wife, a utilitarian poem, a song with a purpose—to give to someone you love, to let them know that they’re important to you, and that you cherish your memories.
It’s so easy for most people to love just to be
No bloody nose, no broken ribs, no fractured dignity
The problem of being happy and in a positive relationship with someone when you know you don’t deserve to be loved and you don’t deserve any of the happiness you have so it takes a lot of deprogramming to not want what you want and to love what you love. As far as love songs go, they don’t get more personal, more direct, more real.
“See You One More Time”—This is my favorite song on the album. Farrell’s voice cracks with emotion as she recounts meeting someone for the first time, long ago, and how it still affects her. The tightest, funnest little song—a tone poem, one melody, one rolling endless sentence. I picked up the guitar and played this song in an instant, I remembered everything about it immediately, because I love it and it’s so natural and simple and brilliant and unaffected. If I wasn’t a dummy, I’d cover this song—if you weren’t a dummy you’d cover this song too.
What I like about this album is its isolation and its defiance, I like that it’s a solo album, and that it still keeps kicking. It rocks when it needs to and says what it needs to say, but also isn’t afraid to be alone, and it isn’t afraid to howl to an empty room.
“Clap for yourself:”
You love it—Even though you’re not good at it / This love will persevere
Yeah it’s about the action, inherent satisfaction
Clap loud enough for all the doubters to hear / Clap for yourself
It’s good to know that Farrell’s still cheering us on when we’re the ones supposed to be cheering her on. You know I know she knows it takes everything you got to write a song and to write an album and to keep writing even though no one’s listening. She knows you know I know it’s the useless endeavors that add meaning, shape our days, make us feel actual dread, directly after making us feel alive for the first time in a little while.
No—Farrell is cheering us on, pulling the rope, and dragging our unconscious body out of the quicksand.
DAMIAN WEBER (https://damiandamiandamian.bandcamp.com/) is a poet and musician living in BedStuy with his wife and daughter. His game is to remind his poet-musician friends that poetry comes first. Hell, write the lyrics before the song – the poet’s way. He’s been a big fan of Boog City since 2005 and thinks it’s the only cool thing going on in the city. His most recent books of poetry are Music Advice, and Corvettes Aren’t Cool, which he will mail you for free, if you ask. His most recent album, I Had To CYA, is on his bandcamp. He is dying to review your album, so please feel free to send him a link at music@boogcity.com.