All the individual tracks are available for free download, but if you would like to make a donation or monetarily show your appreciation, the appreciation would be reciprocal. In that case, buy the album.
Immediate download of 13-track album in your choice of 320k mp3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.
I’m off again
for the last time leavin this place and kin
with a pack on my shoulder and a sleepless grin
for what’s waitin down the road
but it’s those like you
that make it that much harder
to see this through
without weepin at hollerin
back once more
I’m gonna see you again real soon
city of my life you used to be home
but I have some seeds that need to be sewn
and there ain’t no room amongst cigarettes
in your sidewalk cracks
jostled by the subway you could take me far
but when I got above ground I couldn’t see the stars
I want to see the light but I cant
when you’re washed out so bright
so take me to a place where I can smell the sea
and take me to a place where I’m surrounded by trees
Boston you’ve been great, but now I’m goin to be free
[Chorus]
With time away, I’ve lost connections
like me, everyone is taking their own directions
it makes it easier to go but I wish it didn’t have to be so
But there are those that stayed close to my heart
through let-downs and highs, and when we’re apart
to say goodbye doesn’t seem OK
when you’ve just spent a couple days
but maybe some day we’ll be free again
to travel and sing as we did back then
you’ve helped me understand true meaning of friend.
[Chorus]
and I
I’ll miss the glow of street lights upon concrete
I’ll miss the nights with friends playing on the street
from here I don’t know who or what I’ll meet
but for better or for worse, I know it won’t be like you
[Chorus]
I am waiting for the train
am waiting for this train to take me far from here
far away from this game/away from the same things
man, it’s all too near
my name is on the floor behind
I need wind to change my mind
this place is has been kind
but I feel I have lived half-blind
I only know I cannot stay
so I am waiting for the train to take me away
well, I can feel breeze in my hair
this clear sky’s everywhere
I don’t care where it takes me
cuz I am on my own this time
this freedom is sublime
and I’m fine with no concept of time
This is what I want to see
dirt on my hands and bloodied knees
this world without a fee
nothing to do but simply be
but I’ve got an empty pack
gotta find another train to take me away again
I am looking for something else
on the other side of these rails
to travel through the blackened night
to journey out of sight
through desert sand bleached white
I’ll try with all my might
to get to where I’ve always dreamed of
but until then I’ll sit in this train car tonight
You say
you’re always with me
but you changed your mind
after the fall
A whisper in your ear
sent you down to the banks
your heart was in your hands
and mine,
in my feet
I say
You’re wrong to leave
The sun was in your eyes
as I took you by the hand
and I can’t
Do this Alone
to do this Alone
Your smile
your lips, your kiss, your touch
linger in my mind
to my heart I clutch,
the look on your face
as you backed away into the haze
of late summer regrets
the sun let’s the night get so cold
and I can’t
Do this Alone
can’t do this, can’t do this
can’t do this, can’t do this
now that You are gone
A somber breeze flies through the branches as the sun sets
Embracing me in the cold blanket of a regret
the embers die, the sparks all fly to their starlight
the space beside, where you would lie
is empty,
though not quite
A photograph where you were laughing in the ocean
Is all I have, the flickers put your lips and eyes to motion
you look at me and say “What happened to your smile, babe?”
I look away from this,
the one last thing that you gave
I’m sorry
I ran out in the rain
Standing Alone
I am ashamed
and I’m sorry
I know I am to blame
and now
I am confronted by the flame
in your eyes
in your eyes
So I pray to the night
to see me without light
to rob me of my sight
so I can see you clearly
I’m sorry
I ran out in the rain
Standing Alone
I am ashamed
and I’m sorry
I know I am to blame
and now
I am confronted by the flame
in your eyes
I left my land at the age of sixteen
to wander the calling world
with Boston behind and the road ahead
and a heart attached to no girl.
And to the west I traveled
across mountain, river and plain,
with dirtied knees and uncut hair,
I soon forgot my own name.
It was not afore long that I came to the woods
of the North-Pacific shore
a land untouched by the hungering man
and his deadly machines’ roar.
The trees were grand and gnarled
their old bodies stood firm to the blows,
ofthe wintering winds that blew in from the North
I made home amongst their bows.
Well
The water of streams, they could chase my thirst
but the forest quenched something more
the fire in me that burned bright to be free
I had found the place my heart soared.
and of all the forest gave me
I poured back into it my whole soul
as the trees grew tall and the sun would fall
together we were whole.
Then one sunny day in the summer,
through the fog of the Nor-Western coast,
I spied a fleet of industrial ships
with their piercing horns they did boast.
and in the distance I heard
over miles and miles of land,
the groan of a tree cut off at the knees,
and the tearing crack of its hands.
Through blinding tears I charged them all,
threw my body against their metal,
but it was a lost cause and they locked me up,
said I couldn’t win in this battle.
and when I walked through the bars,
out into the bloodied sunlight,
there was nothing left besides leaves and twigs
and the stumps of my friends were bleached white.
Well I set myself down on what used to be home,
watched the ships as they faded away,
and the sun it was drowned in the tears of the sky
the Earth and I mourned the day.
and the sun it was drowned in the tears of the sky
as the Earth and I mourned the day.
drop my body on the roadside
I’m too tired to go on
caught in the spaces in between
the heartbeats of my song
the place where I am going
doesn’t exist anymore
the land in which I shared my heart
neath stones that I once wore
the dust is settles on the clothes
that cling against me now
with the weight of absence on my back
I stumble and I bow
bow to a horizon
ever further, never reached
bow to a relentless world
how long
must I travel?
before I see your face again.
and oh
I’ve had enough of solitude
I want to start anew
I followed in my own footsteps
never did all I had said
now I’m more afraid of what’s behind
than what I have ahead
the emptiness around me
engulfs what I have left
and now I know the one dear thing
I wish that I had kept
the peace of mind that I struggle to hold
is but a piece of what I once had
and to have the capacity to love again
makes the thin g between my ribs
hurt so bad
that I can’t stay here anymore
I straighten back to the horizon and I cry
to know that we never said goodbye
well that’s enough for one’s faith in love to die
but not mine.
so what can I do to carry forth
if I never meant to leave
and how am I supposed to leave you there
if you follow me in my dreams?
"Dear Mom,
Thanks for that birthday card you sent. Can’t say we did much celebrating around here, but it was nice to hear from home.
Mom, what the hell is going on at home? It was hard to believe our motivations for entering this country but I can’t understand why we’re now invading there. No one in command will tell us either. They tell us to shut up and do our job. But I don’t know what our job is Mom. When I joined up, I swore to protect the Constitution. But what we’re doing now isn’t defending anything.
I’m getting restationed because of the invasion. They tell me it’s safer than here, but I’m not holding my breath. There’s been 3 roadsides in the past week there. But don’t worry about me. Please don’t. I’ll be fine.
I’m not sure if there will be a phone where I’m going, so you might only be getting letters from me for awhile. Tell her I said hi, ok?
I Love you.
ps. Keep up the fighting back there. Bring us home."
--
"Dear mom,
I’m writing to you because I feel I can’t reach out to anyone else. A guy in our company died the other night mom. We got ambushed after we were returning from a patrol. It shouldn’t have been anything too serious. It seemed like just a couple guys who didn’t know how to use guns, but they blew out one of our tires and so we stopped and engaged. We were so busy with them and it was night so nobody thought to look for snipers. The guy caught it straight through the head mom. He fell into me. I’ve never been so scared in my life.
We either killed the rest or they ran off, I was too in shock to notice. Hearing explosions is something you get used to, but this, this was something else. I had never felt death so close to me before.
I don’t know what to do mom. I’m lost out here."
--
"To the parents and/or legal guardians of the Private,
It is with deep sadness that I write to inform you that two days, on Friday March 16th, 2007, the Private and 6 other soldiers were killed in an explosion from a car bomb outside the streets of..."
--
Dear mom,
This will be my last letter for awhile. I’m going on a long patrol and won’t be able to communicate while on it. I’ve been at the Base for the past few days now, so I had a chance to check my email. She sent me a video of my nephews. They’ve grown a lot huh? They were in their backyard, playing war, making guns with their little fingers and trying to make explosions with their mouths. She said, “we’re all supporting you back here. even the kids!” I cried and cried after watching that.
I’m starting to lose faith mom. Looks like the ones in command don’t even want this anymore. Seems like the number of soldiers we lose increases by the day. It’s been awhile since I left home mom. I was naïve to have joined, and I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I want nothing more to come home, but I still have a couple months more. You see a lot out here mom. Too much. And yet I don’t know how I can come home at this point.
I’ll be home soon mom. Just a few more months. Just a few more.
I look out over water
the sun completes the day
this is what I always wanted
sit in the sun and seaspray
but there was something that I overlooked before
it burns a hole in my chest
I traveled far, but always alone
I only passed my own test
when you hear this voice
calling
when you see my face again
you’ll know that I’m home
I’m home
I ate my fill of the summers
I bathed in October’s days
but come the wintertime,
my heart was wasting away.
to have a place to go home to
to have someone by your side
to hear the words “I love you”
to have a place I can hide
when I hear your voice calling when I see your face again
I’ll know that I’m home
I’m home
so if home is where the heart is
where does that leave me?
about
“Old Beginnings” was released roughly 8 months after “(Winter/Heart) Break”, but the production of the album, consciously or subconsciously, began some months before the winter album. Released on August 27th, 2010, it is arguably the best Ericksøn album to date, both in its subject matter, musicianship, and cohesiveness. This album too, was produced with the concept of story-telling in mind, both to tell his own story but also a universal story of recklessness, footlooseness, the thirst for adventure and travel, with the exception of “Sunday Morning”, which was produced to honor the predicament of soldiers who against their will fight in other men’s wars. The tracks are arranged in such a way that a story is told through them, from a departure of a city that raised the narrator, to an escape into the open world, to the recollection of what was left behind (or how he was left behind by someone else)…The album is mostly anecdotes, whether told through words or through instrumentals, and each song can be applied to a certain moment, to a certain event, in the narrator’s journey.
The album looks to explore the mental and emotional process of someone who has a thirst to leave, to get away, to disconnect, but through disconnection, to connect with another, greater thing. A progression is clear from the start to finish as we see the narrator’s excitement die, as he has more experience, and as he begins to truly appreciate what he can now see he had in the grounded life.
Musically, this is perhaps Ericksøn’s most experimental album, although the musicality of the songs is not random or incoherent when placed next to each other. Erickson attempted to push the boundaries of his music, playing new instruments, or the same instruments he always had in different ways. By writing a song in the style of a sea shanty (“The Northwestern Shore”), playing guitars with violin bows (“The Northwestern Shore”, “How Long?”), hitting strings instead of plucking them (“How Long?”), using Peruvian Quenas (panflutes, “Sunrise over Peaks”), beatboxing (“Sunday Morning”), and playing a Pakistani drum with jazz brushes (“Hewn”, “Waiting for this Train”).
Another exploration in “Old Beginnings” is the use of ambiance. As the album was recorded during the summer, the locations in which Erickson recorded were often full of crickets in the evenings. He took advantage of this and often used the crickets to contextualize the song, either by placing it in the summer setting, natural setting, or evening setting. He also used flies in “I Have Fallen Behind” to create the image of stagnation, decay, death. Also in “I Have Fallen Behind”, Erickson experimented with the use of animal sounds and the moods they can set within a song. The wolves howling in this song are done by Erickson and then effected in such a way to make them near unrecognizeable.
Finally, “Old Beginnings” is the album in which Erickson shows the progression of his use of the guitar in his music. In almost every track on the album there is either acoustic or electric guitar, and the use of guitar is countless different genres of music heavily influenced the versality of the guitar within Erickson’s music in this album. Perhaps the furthest he branched out from his normal uses of the guitar is the solo in “Sunday Morning” in which he uses a distorted electric guitar during the climax of the song. Never having soloed before in one of his songs, this was a new and interesting experience as he wrote a solo instead of just improvised it.
“Old Beginnings” again is a cathartic and emotional experience. The album places the listener within the mind and heart of Erickson, and looks to make clear, if not for the listener, for the artist himself, who he is at this moment, where he is, why he is, etc. The album was written during a period of stagnation, which curiously gave way to artistic innovation and creation.
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