Gypsy Paw

When the title for this new EP first hit me, my flesh got flushed. I was just about to drift into a stony sleep when the lyrical ping pong paddle backhanded a nugget into my brain. Ace! One bead of sweat on the temple and a dry mouth, I licked my chops and wrote it down (like I could possibly forget it).

This was not the case in naming "Gypsy Paw" the song, an upbeat anthem of surreal pop images. My title-writing formula is straightforward: take a word or phrase (usually from the chorus), weigh its impact on the meaning of the song, see if it's a patch that looks good on the quilt of the bigger picture. Tried and true. I'm sure this is how most folks do it. But this song was stubborn, and refused to fit the mold. Some titles I tried out--and the reason I didn't use them--include:

• "How I Died Before I Was Born"...I already have a long song title in "I'm Gonna Bite Your Head Off When I'm Done Making Love To You." I'm not Sufjan, sheesh.
• "Yer Jeans"... too similar to "Yer Blues" on The Beatles. Plus, an insignificant, and thus inferior, object in the lyrics
• "Providence"...I wanted people to know I was simply referring to the Rhode Island capital (hence the "Constitution Hill" lyric), and not the more religious "God conceived as the power sustaining and guiding human destiny" theology. None of that. I can't control the listeners' understanding of potential metaphors!
• "Whatever That Means"...the last lines of the song, and I don't even know what the "That" is, let alone means. 

The song isn't about anything in particular. At the same time, it's also not about nothing. It really is a quilt of ideas, geographical shout outs, personal history, insight. A musical pastiche. Once I realized that the song represented a however-jumbled view of my own existence, I knew it had to be called "Gypsy Paw;" certain of uncertainty, unafraid to wander, and undeterred by wonder. I will always be a work-in-progress in a takeout container.

This tune began as the very last bit of music written in our old apartment, and ended as the first song recorded in the new cottage. Rick's guitar tracks  were recorded in the bathtub, engineered by a bar of soap. I must make a special note about the drums on this song, for they are real! No drum machine! Frank came over and played on his set while I attempted to mic the kick and snare, no overhead. I spent the day studying drum recording techniques, and am since proud of what I learned.

I was born in '85. My mother was born in '59. Unless I've been misinformed, I did not pass away in '98. If I did, then this current life is much better.

Gypsy Paw by easternphoebes