Skyscraper

story time & unreleased demo

A couple of weeks ago, I was having my favorite kind of conversation with two dear friends, Bella White and Sam Gelband. I was in their kitchen in New Orleans, the three of us snug around a wooden table while their pup Indy snoozed underfoot. They are both incredibly gifted songwriters. We were talking about what it takes to keep writing songs. I volunteered that I think I have to transform. I have to transform how I think about what I think about, in order to stay engaged with my writing brain. I will disengage from a song idea if it feels like I’ve already said it or explored it. Too boring to repeat. So to stay engaged, it first has to interest me, and that means it’s something new to me.

But how do I keep transforming? Like, when is enough transformation enough? Someone once said to me about writing from trauma that you can't keep picking at the scab, or it won’t heal. I thought it wise at the time, but now I’m not sure. Years pass, and I continue to slingshot away from traumatic life events. And much like that iconic photo of Earth taken from space, the distance helps me see myself. And the farther out I fly, the more I understand the hot-shit-on-a-platter that life has occasionally served me.

A few months ago, I touched souls with another great songwriter, Angela Autumn. I swear, her heart must be as big as a horse, because it’s like she has this electromagnetic charge that just pulls everything toward her. Despite our almost 10-year age difference, we had some Freaky Friday-esque inspiration and wrote and recorded a song together. And maybe because of that age difference, it’s like I had a window into my own past. And although we have had very different life experiences, she reminds me of myself. That fiery spirit that is sooo sensitive. Can make anything happen on a shoestring. Terribly naive, strangely wise all at once. Determination and despair. Light on water, changing, right before your eyes.

(Freaky Friday, am I right)

During this time, I got the idea for a song called "Skyscraper," about a scrappy Midwestern girl (Angela? Me?) chasing her dreams right into the clouds. But somewhere in writing it, I excavated a core memory. It was about my first love, my high school boyfriend, a time I have not explored in my writing. I scratched the surface of that time period in the song “Five Minute Drive”, but that song explores a family dynamic with my little sister.

So I found myself writing about my sweet sixteen, my first love, and the punk music that was the backdrop of all those experiences. And I realized I’ve been writing about the love/hurt symbiosis for a long time:

Songs like “Always Changing"-

I ain’t afraid of love, it’s alright, its enough / I ain’t afraid of pain, it’s alright, whats her name

And more recently “Scars”-

Baby, I’ve got scars, and you’ve got them too / love them for what they gave to you

But now I’m writing from outer space, with over twenty years of life experience since my sweet sixteen. And looking out of my spaceship window, she looks so innocent. And slightly doomed. Much like planet Earth.

Full voice memo demo of Skyscraper below the paywall for paid subscribers. Thanks to Thomas Dollbaum for jumping in and helping me finesse the chord structure.

And thank you all for being here.

XO,

ER