Recently while on tour I had the opportunity to visit my little brother in Austin, TX. Someone very close to us recommended we go to The Texas Chili Parlor for Mad Dog Margaritas. They make their margaritas with fresh limejuice and don’t bog them down with commercially packaged sweet & sour mix. Mad Dog Margaritas are made using an extraordinarily harsh mezcal tequila…the kind with the worm in the bottle. It’s a tough cup-o-drank.

The recommendation came from a person that learned of the drink from a song they listened to while dealing with divorce. We’ve talked about how much of a tool music can be in processing here before. I think it comes up a lot actually. Sometimes someone has said it all before. You need to live through their voice. It helps us find solace. We’re not alone.

Sitting there in The Texas Chili Parlor in a city that is not my own, turning tequila into hair on my chest, my girlfriend and little brother at the table, I felt very connected. I was connected to the people around me, the floorboards, the jukebox, the person who recommended the bar, the humid rainy air, and the laughter that can wash so much of the past away.

I search for words to describe the feeling here…though someone has said it first and, of course, said it best…

Here are the lyrics…
(more…)

1.
i have always been a man on boats
unsure of footing on shore
a man of hats
of cover
a song in the shape of a rabbit.

I have always wanted
to be like smoke rings, clap-hands,
quick step, able to hold on
swishing rent week behind wrinkles
speech loud bounced off curtains
vulnerable reaching and tough.

when i speak of love
i tend to talk about myself.
these are my skeletons in the piano.
they swallow whole notes
and spit them back
like ghost fountains.

2.
under an angry moon
hairs on my neck,
like second hands,
stand at attention
a poor man’s werewolf.
I don’t offer up my scars.
All I said was.
the moment was small enough
to fit inside her palm.

we have lifted ourselves
across this dead city.
smiling street lamps
tear down the day.
we are creatures with fists
through our last defense.
i’ve said a militia of sorries;
the kind of apologies
that sink through wind like grenades
blow pieces of myself
into a thousand search warrants
wanting easy answers.
our stories are not crafted from stone.

we block out names in tree bark—
dogs at a stump.

3.
she is an early thigh
more bird than bourbon
flew from rooftop to shoreline
found me aging in oak:
whiskey on a bed of barley.
my nights teemed a frozen red
unable to escape the winter
in my stomach.

even now it keeps me
from remembering her hands.
while she is gone
they mix the pancakes here with milk
fry plantains without cardamom.
there are love letters
wrapped around our throats
but our mouths are missing tongues.

under an angry moon
small hairs on my neck stand at attention

like a second hand
a poor man’s werewolf.

I didn’t offer her my scarf
All I said was.

the moment was small enough
to fit inside her palm.

A few posts back we discussed the important role music plays during and after break-ups. I received some really amazing suggestions and stories through e-mail and the comments here for songs that help us mourn, cope, turn red, grit teeth, feel, deal, and stand back up again.

I’ve put together a 19 track compilation comprised of songs you suggested. Even if you haven’t recently gone through some hurt maybe it’ll be a reminder of how happy you are living single or being with the person whose hand you hold. It’s a free download and a good listen. Click the picture below to download it. (Photo Courtesy of Clayton Hauck).

Download.

There was such an overwhelming response of suggestions from everyone that I’ll be putting together a “Part 2″ pretty soon. If you have suggestions feel free to comment and maybe they’ll make it on the next one!

the full track listing… (more…)

Yesterday this city burned,
fell like Rome to a brigade of fire.
Our homes lit up
like bulbs without borders—
light bashing against the atmosphere
swallowing our beds and kitchen tables
whole, oven-mouthed.

Tonight we mourn our loved ones
cry out what is left into Lake Michigan
wash the scent of burnt city
from our children’s hair.
We will sleep on ember.

Tomorrow we stack bricks
fill the empty space with buildings
puncture the sky with our courthouses
replace the ash with our industry.

Tomorrow these hands…
these immigrant hands
these hands of stone
these Chicago, skyscraper, survivor
hands rebuild this city.

In my obsessive interweb search for ways to deal with a break-up I found this amazing video of two chickens breaking up a fight between two feisty rabbits. We should hire these chickens at the club as bouncers.

I’ve recently gone through/am going through a breakup. Breakups are never easy. There are never any civilized short cuts. No easy way to redefine your relationship. No way to slip into a friendship without resentment. No way to keep yourself or the other from being hurt. No one person to blame. No easy answers.

One thing I do know is that many of us turn to music to consume us after it happens. Sometimes we use it to wallow in our pain. Some use it to get angry, others to get happy again.

“This American Life” has a great episode about breakups including an interview with Phil Collins about breakup songs. You can listen to it for free here if you’re interested or dealing with a breakup yourself.

There have been several songs that have been significant to me during breakups. For instance, “Ex Girl to the Next Girl” by Gangstarr, “You Don’t Know What Love Is” by The White Stripes, and “Leaving on a Jet Plane” by John Denver with honorable mention to the Mos Def cover.

The Gangstarr song allows me to be angry. It allows me to brush a lil dirt off my shoulder. Of course I always know the answers aren’t that simple. I’m not nearly brazen enough a person to just forget someone important to me in the snap of a finger…but for 4 minutes and 41 seconds I’m able to pretend I’m that hardcore. It’s sort of like sucking in my gut in front of the mirror and flexing my “muscles.”

I like The White Stripes song because it has hope for the relationship in the future. It has something figured out and has come to terms with the problem with a hint of bitterness but ultimately the “What if?” remains open. “You’re not hopeless or helpless and I hate to sound cold…”

Though the John Denver song is not particularly a breakup song leaving is involved with a possibility he won’t come back. I also like this song for its hope for the future of the relationship. “Every place I go I’ll think of you/Every song I sing I’ll sing for you/When I come back, I’ll bring your wedding ring.” I also relate to it because the singer admits fault and doesn’t just blame his lover, “There’s so many times I’ve let you down/So many times I’ve played around/I tell you now, they don’t mean a thing.” No easy answers.

So the questions I pose to you:
Do you have some favorite breakup songs? Are there songs that have helped you get over someone, move on, or even fix things? Have there been any songs significant in helping you cope or make your decision? What are they? Don’t be afraid to comment. You might help someone… like me…