the foghorn
Release Date: 4/01, 3/08
Albums: LUDLOW 6:18, DAYLIGHT KISSING NIGHT
Writer: ADAM MARSLAND
Lyrics:
I hear they saved the foghorn down by the bay
It fits the mood of these salty towns
It fits my mood this day
I kicked a pebble across the pavement
I heard it clatter in the mist
And I felt the blood rush to my cheek
As I clenched and unclenched my fists
Why, why I keep asking why
If we're just born to die
Then why did we even bother
Why cry, when in a hundred years
All of this disappears
Like the memories of our fathers
I hear he walked this same road
When it was wet with morning dew
I never walked here with him
Now I'm standing in his shoes
I wonder is he disappointed in me
Is he looking out my eyes
Because I never really grew up
I got older but I never got wise
Adam sez:LUDLOW 6:18 was an album essentially about loss, and although nearly all of the songs were newly written for the album, "The Foghorn" -- or at least the hook and bass line -- had been floating around since about 1993, albeit in a more melodramatic and angst-ridden form. Nonetheless, the song in its more laid-back, Philly-soul influenced incarnation was a perfect fit for the LUDLOW project.
A song about the death of a parent, "The Foghorn" is essentially about the various forms that grief takes -- loss, anger, inadequacy, futility -- and asks the same existential questions about the point of living as "How Can You Stand It?" -- albeit more bluntly and dismissively. It was inspired by visiting my elderly parents in Santa Cruz and walking around along the shoreline on a misty winter day and contemplating the fact that they were both getting on in years, and the various issues I'd worked out with my dad over my time on earth -- issues that, in this song, the protagonist sadly hasn't resolved.
The song SOUNDS complicated, but it's actually one of the simplest tunes I've ever recorded. Take away the bassline, and it's two variations on the same chord progression, which in turn are multiple jazz voicings of just two chords, B and A. Vocally, though, it's extremely demanding (as were most of the LUDLOW songs), going in and out of falsetto all the way through the song. I was stretching and refining my singing voice all through these sessions and though it took many tries over multiple sessions, when I finally broke through, I got most of the final vocal in one go. My favorite part of the song, besides the solo, is the single note string line that comes in at the end of the song. The Negro Problem used that trick a few times and it's very effective -- the track broadens, but the loneliness of the one note also adds poignancy.
Both my parents were still living when LUDLOW was released by my father died not long after, and one of the most emotional performances I've ever done was the show we played three days after his death. It was a big show and I deliberately hadn't told anyone he had passed. I dedicated the song to him for the encore, because it really was written for and inspired by him, and for anyone who has lost a family member.
For years I avoided doing this song live if I could help it because of the difficult melody; I usually just wound up screeching. When we revisited the song in 2006 for the fifth anniversary show I found that my range and ability had improved enough that I could now pull it off live. Since then it's become a live staple, and it's now one of my favorite songs to sing.