Dear K*****,
I know it’s been forever and
ever. Not sure if this email address
even works anymore, so I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough if this gets returned
after hitting send.
Right now I’m listening to a recent
album from the wonderful singer/songwriter Tracy
Shedd titled Arizona. I’ve always kind of taken her
talent for granted since first learning of her through one of those cheap Teen Beat Records samplers I used to
always buy around the turn of the century (do you remember “Circles” from that
last mix tape I sent just before I went in for the kidney removal surgery?). All five of her albums are excellent, and yet
I’m pretty sure that I’m not listening to them enough and telling everyone I can
about them loudly enough. This new one
though has really hit me at the right time.
Apparently, it is almost entirely acoustic guitars, aside from a from a
few little added touches here or there, but I swear I listened this thing three
or four times before I realized how stripped down and spare this actually
is. I have been so enraptured in her
words and voice and the delicate and memorable melodies provided by the twin
acoustic guitars that nothing has ever felt like it was missing.
Why has it been such a profound listen
right now? Well, 2013 was overall a
pretty lackluster year. It was filled
with my usual health uncertainties, more heartbreak, and just a general
distaste, as I noticed in retrospect that many of my old standby hobbies and
habits have gone by the wayside. Many of
the old comforts don’t really do the trick anymore and I’m not sure why or what
to do or where to turn next. I simply
know that it’s time to find a new direction and I’m starting to find some
solace in that idea.
I don’t want this to be about me,
except to say that I have serious self-doubt about contacting you again after
all of this time and so absolutely out of the blue. But I’m worried about you. Rumor has it that you have not been in a good
place of late and I wish to offer you my distant support. And I think Tracy Shedd offers up a notion, in
her song “Broken Arrows”: “You can die trying, or you can die with a broken
heart,” where I’m not totally sure these are the only options available
(besides the dying part), but I’m taking her thought as a kick in the butt for
2014. I’m tired of not trying things I
want to achieve for fear of whatever, so to hell with it!
“Walking down memory
lane
You took me by surprise
I was homesick and blue
Thinking about what to
do”
-from “Sweet Talking”
Tracy Shedd does a fantastic cover of
the old Magnetic Fields song “Candy” that I put on the first mix tape I ever
sent you back in ‘93. Do you remember
when we last parted? We were listening
to the Magnetic Fields’ “100,000 Fireflies” on your turntable, when you gave me
a hug and placed a simple rubber band on my wrist to tell me that I should wear
one as a reminder that there will always be ‘someone’ out there who cares. Well, that always meant the world to me and
sometimes I find myself wearing five or six rubber bands at a time – during those
most distressing moments. I don’t think
I can ever repay you for that show of support, but my offers of heartfelt music
have always been my return gift. Shedd
also closes the album with a cover of Sonic Youth’s now legendary “Teenage
Riot,” which you never liked, because it was ‘worthless noise,’ while I always
argued that the song was ‘artful dissonance.’
I think you’d really like this version though, because she turns the
onrush of the original into something slow-paced and clear, putting a focus on
its thoughtful distillation of our times - besides Howie Gelb from Giant Sand,
who you always liked, sings the song along with Tracy.
“Oh, if I’m gonna sit
down
And listen to this
Oh, I’ll need a stiff
drink
To get me through
Oh, nothing is certain
And no one is perfect
Oh, and you’re no fool
You’re just a little
lost”
-from “You’re No Fool”
It’s the bulk of this album though
that feels like it should be the metaphorical rubber band as my gift to you –
hell, I’ll mail order a copy for you!
Tracy Shedd’s words are so perfectly straightforward and free of useless
complications. She is direct and lets
the power of her phrasing and her beautiful voice and melodies to hammer home
whatever emotions she sets out to evoke.
She is clearly singing from the point of view of having someone in her
life deal with some serious shit - someone who is on the brink, as she boldly
sings on the song “Control”: “don’t end it all tonight / you have a life to
live.” It is a simple message but her
soaring voice drives her worried plea home overwhelmingly.
I can only hope that you are not at
such a terrible point. Life is often
painful, frustrating and extremely difficult to deal with, but it’s something
that we all have to do our best to persevere in order to reach those moments of
sheer joy and inspiration that make it all feel like we each have value and
that are lives are meaningful. It’s music
like this album that always remind me that we all go through tragic times and
that it’s okay to take comfort in the poetic words of great artists such as
Tracy - it's life-affirming. You have always been a spark and the first person to help your family,
friends and anyone you come in contact with.
It is time to focus your amazing healing powers inward and help yourself
for once and to realize that you will always have someone out there supporting
you in spirit.
Warmest Wishes,
Chris.
Tracy Shedd
Arizona
(New Granada 2013)
