Cadence (download)

Recently, I ate Thai food with a long-lost friend and his companion, who may or may not have spoken a word of English, but we smiled politely, and ate chicken satay, and listened to “Beat It” and “PYT” on the restaurant’s stereo.

At one point, my friend was trying to describe a video he had seen of an active windmill breaking, its blades whirring and whirring, faster and faster, until they peeled apart and soared away from their stem.  But his excitement got the better of him, and I hadn’t really heard the beginning of his story, and I found myself dumbstruck, staring at him, mouth agape, wondering to myself, what is it, exactly, that he’s talking about?

I was not tracking with him, and he knew it, and it bothered him, and he wanted so bad for me to know what it is he was talking about, to visualize what a windmill imploding would look like, but the words wouldn’t come, and then his pretty girlfriend, she of the polite smile and pigtails and olive skin, gently leaned forward and pantomimed blowing on a dandelion, and I immediately understood.  I was tracking with his experience.  Harmony was achieved.

***

I wrote this song while thinking about two people I know who, by all rights, were most likely made for each other.  It’s just that they’re in two completely different places; they just can’t, for all the effort they put into it, line up correctly.  The sentiment “have patience, for I have lost the cadence of your love” is something I have found myself saying, in one way or another, in every relationship I’ve ever been in.

And I suppose that what really marks true love and acceptance, in both romantic and non-romantic situations, is this: the energy and ability it takes to slow down and wait for the other.  To allow the other to catch up.  To be gentle and patient in all things, even if it means standing still and smiling through clenched teeth.

It’s strangely fitting that, as this song began to form itself and take shape, it turned into a duet.  The man and woman in this song may not believe that they are in lockstep with each other, but their respective neuroses complement each other; and in witnessing them talk about it, we become acutely aware of similarities between the two, similarities that even they don’t know about.

***

Dinner at the restaurant and we fought in the alleyway
For an audience of Spanish-speaking busboys on their smoking breaks
And I think I’m seeing double now, at least I know that I’m not afraid

And somehow I’m remembering the little things that matter now
The parts of you that correspond to parts of me and blacken out
The habits that you formed when you imagined what my dreams were about

And oh, have patience ‘cause I have lost the cadence of your love

And I was anxious in your living room, imagining your evening gown
Looking through your photographs, pretending I was safe and sound
Counting all the exits and keeping my eyes close to the ground

And oh, forgive me, if I forget your name some evenings
The high demand of simple living, the ebb and flow of saints and heathens
And you don’t know what I remember, of how you looked when I believed in love

We’re getting to the end and I’m afraid of what the ending brings
A calvacade of worry that collapses on the finer things
Like Hemingway and Monterey and chocolate cake and diamond rings

***

It was only after I wrote and recorded this song, in the span of about 45 minutes, that I realized the melody’s similarity with “One Great City!” by the Weakerthans.  I was bummed at first, but I’ll let it slide, if only because now maybe you’ll download that fantastic little lament against Winnipeg, Canada.  I am instantly transported to sitting in a Luckys parking lot with Clinton J. Peters, who may be the only man to make it out of Winnipeg alive, and playing him that song, and watching him giggle with glee at the sound trashing his beloved Winnipeg was getting.  It fits, because he is someone who has had to slow down for me on a number of occasions, and I love him dearly, but not in a weird way.

Also, I am late in mentioning this, but it must be mentioned: The Brothers Sarpalius (Adam and Ryan), chief architects of the fabulous blog Witherless, have been extraordinarily kind in basically giving me server space to host these mp3s on.  Their kindness knows no bounds.