February 19, 2012
It’s 22.22 and my weekend was officially donated to the re-creation and recording of Rum Cove. It sounds amazing, it’s the longest song yet at 5 minutes 53 seconds, and it’s the wordiest, most intense and darkest song on Coldwater. A love song still, but this is tough love…
A sea shanty, a pirate song, a song about two men, old compadres of each other, only one of whom is known to me. While one is a little unhinged, and the other has many extraordinary personal traits, both are cut from the same cloth. Both are ‘Rum Coves.’
“And what does that mean?” I hear you mutter…
Well, it’s a gypsy phrase. ‘Rum’ meaning both ‘good’ and ‘bad’ at the same time (not unlike the slang use of the words ‘wicked’ or ‘sick’), and ‘Cove’ simply being the Romany word for ‘Man’
Rum coves, I have known a few.
But these two, the blood brothers of my song, well. They’re the ones who made it into the song, because I cared enough to write about our tale and sing it, to boot. Strong medicine, exhausting.
And sing it I did, through a real echo chamber (not a computer plug-in) that my friend Stefan built himself in his studio, Ultrasound, here in Downtown LA. Yes, an echo chamber, a U67 mic and an Amek mixing desk were all present and correct to capture my very simple voice and acoustic guitar recording, all recorded simultaneously.
Next up, writing charts for the orchestra…. sea-faring charts for shanty pirate strings, waves of emotion and rocks to beware of, shark-infested waters and adventures with sirens.