Christmas Eve. Eye is twitching just a little and my head feels like an overworked laptop that needs a restart and an operating system update. I am fortunate to have a bit of alone time before launching myself into Christmas. There is a chance of greatness because my girlfriend and her family are absolutely wonderful, as are my sister and the rest of my local family. A chance of fucked-upness because the days of having non-upsetting interactions with my dad are over. It’s something that takes a few hours (on a good day) to emotionally recover from.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
I've enjoyed expressing myself in prose and visual art over the years, but it's through music that I communicate the most directly, with the most emotion. I consider this my life's main task.
Since my 2015 trip to Nashville, I've had a renewed focus on my songwriting. I'd already written a few hundred songs by that point, released a few things here and there, but I felt lost. I have found my way with the help of my late girlfriend Marcella. Even in her absence.
I'd written about a lot of almost-wases and might-have-beens, troubled rock stars, crooked politicians. I'd written about a lot of imagined things. When I resumed my writing, it was time to write about very real time spent with a very real person to whom I felt I owed a debt. This called for not only a resumption of my work, but a raising of the bar. This music - existing only on-stage so far - has received the kind of feedback I hoped it would.
The October 2017 debut performance was, more than a fun night, a life highlight. Even more exciting, I've found as I've dug into my archive that there are three albums of material that I feel just as strongly about. Three more song cycles, each reflecting different eras, different sides of me.
I don't know that I've accomplished as much as my friend and collaborator Patrick thinks I have, but I know that I have spent an incalculable amount of time crafting these things and that, in each of these forty-two songs, I said exactly what I wanted to say.
The truth is that I don't understand a damn thing about writing (probably why I failed English in college); I only know that I keep showing up to work and, sometimes, magic happens. Sometimes I play the song back and it reminds me of a tune that might be playing on a jukebox in some strange dream you're having at 4:11 AM.
Those are the ones I keep.
I look forward to sharing this work with you soon, and I send my thanks to the folks who have been early supporters.
For anyone who is interested in helping me release this work, you can help support me by purchasing music and merchandise at gregmcgarvey.bandcamp.com (name your own price), attending a gig, or by leaving thousands of dollars under my windshield wipers. It's the blue Scion in the parking lot; ya can't miss it!