Adam Gnade

ADAM GNADE “AND ON BAD DAYS WE WERE SAWN ASUNDER” FROM FARMHOUSES TO TOUR VANS (UPCOMING DIGITAL RELEASE) This one’s from my rarities collection coming out sometime next week. It’s the story (a tragedy) of my friend XXXX XXXX and his long decline. Dudes from Castanets and Shaky Hands played on this one, as did everyone I was living with at the time in Portland, all good people, all missed. More later about when that’s coming out…

ADAM GNADE “THE WINTER/THEIR APARTMENT” FROM RUN HIDE RETREAT SURRENDER CD. Lyrics: It is winter again and you are fighting with your woman. From outside the apartment on the hill leading up Broadway, pressed against cold window glass, the warm glow you’d see would be Norman Rockwell life—NBC and a Christmas tree—wrapping paper tubes unraveled on the couch, presents half wrapped, shoeboxes—their lids off—open and waiting, where rest the dregs of pizza boxes, chewed-on crusts, and red wine jugs. Sliced cheese or cubed provolone gone dark yellow on white paper plates.

Your hands thrown over your head; her eyes wet and red. And from outside the window you would see a tragic comedy, song and dance blues, or election year blues, wartime blues, love-life blues, growing up blues, the sorrow of ancient oak tree deep root pained. And San Diego winter where at 6 a.m. you and her drive to work and see your breath in steam billows, to jobs you hate and to making money that goes God knows where.

Up the street the cars line Broadway, their windows fogged with dew drops dripping on concrete.

Southern California morning. The bums are staggering out of wet bushes draped with spider web trails and damp pant cuffs, scratching brown beards and wondering where their life went, how they got to this and whether they’d ever touch a woman again and oh, for one last grasp of warm teenage breasts they felt in the back of a car, high school homecoming night, 1985, an elegant young body or smooth long side and the eyes of shivering nervous, of a woman that wants you because you are good and you are worthy and you make her feel good. But never again and they are resigned to that—nothin’ but dollar coffee at 7-11 and another day waiting for handouts and hobo death.

The nights, now, are filled with talk and then quiet, where you feel dumb and thick-mouthed—can’t say nothin’ but mumble and plead your case. You were never brave like she is, so you sit and drink and grow hard skeleton face and scare her, scare your family too, while your body rots, while your muscle goes to fat, then sagged skin while your brain goes evil, the squiggling worms and flitting haints, the spirits of soul leaving your body.

She delivers sermons and speeches, implores you to get the hell out of the city. “We’d be so much happier,” she says. You could quit your jobs and run away like you used to, back when you did things just because, and because it felt good to run away, and because you didn’t worry so much like you do now… just because and leave the assholes behind and fuck ’em anyway they don’t mean shit. She says it doesn’t matter what: run, hide, retreat, surrender or your apartment will be your grave.

ADAM GNADE “RUN HIDE RETREAT SURRENDER” FROM THE RUN HIDE RETREAT SURRENDER CD Lyrics: But then you’re driving again. The sun is out and summer shade from trees tiger-stripes the road. You are together again and you are heading home. You relate to the world through smells. Oak campfires smell like beach-fires in San Diego. Incense, car carpet, and cigarettes smell like being 18 and in love. Drying dog shit, black on green Kansas lawn, smells like summertime. Water and river brush smells like summertime in Arizona… Colorado River. Hot buds of weed burning smell like being 15 and sober while your friends laugh and grin, slant-eyed and high. Rosewater on bare skin smells like your woman when you’re heading home with her from weeks away, apologies made and nothing resolved—nothing is resolved—life is still a big hanging sulk of mystery or futility or repeating patterns or hurt feelings, of too much damage done maybe. But you’re together again and heading home. You are heading home.

ADAM GNADE “WE MUST COME HOME AGAIN” (DEMO) FROM FARMHOUSES TO TOUR VANS This one’s from the limited-run rarities CD I had on the final UK date last week. It’s just a demo but I feel like it’s probably as true as it’ll get. As far as the lyrics go I vacillate between swearing by everything I said and turning my back on it. Which is to say I have no answers. Still, that doesn’t mean I’m not looking for them. I’m looking every fucking minute of every fucking day. I want to break through and see the truth, the hard wiring inside the machine, the great cloudless sky and the words streamed in and sprawled out across it. Every day, every minute…

-Adam

MP3: ADAM GNADE “I WILL PUT AWAY MY PAIN AND BE A BEACON” FROM THE WILD HOMESICK CD (PUNCH DRUNK PRESS) This song is about life being absolutely, positively fucked and about finding something strong inside yourself and keeping that with you while shit falls apart and gets mean. It’s also about being kind while the rest of the world is so unkind. I wrote it when I felt like the universe was pissing on my head and sticking railroad nails in my eyes. I hope you like it. -Adam

“PALACES” BY ADAM GNADE FROM THE HELLO AMERICA! SPLIT

In the ambient dead-space before “Palaces” begins, you can hear an arguement the mics picked up while we were recording the string bells. From what I can make out, one of two guys is shouting, “Fuck! Fuck! I’ll fucking kill her!” while the other is saying something along the lines of, “Let’s go! C’mon! Let’s go!” And then the banjo comes on. We didn’t hear what we’d picked up until we mixed the record so I guess whatever happened happened. It begins just a few seconds into the track. See if you can figure out what they’re saying.

-Adam

“SNAKE LORE” BY ADAM GNADE WITH DAVID CHRISTIAN AND THAD CHRISTIAN FROM WHIDBEY ISLAND EP

This song of mine just got posted here. It’s called “Snake Lore” and it showed up on an EP that’s now out of print. We recorded it on Whidbey Island, in a house on the cliff overlooking the water. It’s me on vocals, David Christian on acoustic guitars, and Thad Christian on mandolin and field recordings/noise. (There might have been some bass guitar somewhere; I don’t remember.) Besides vocals, I didn’t play any music during this session which made it one of the more enjoyable ones I’ve done. So, yeah, here’s “Snake Lore” for you. I hope you like it.

-Adam Gnade