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A Perfect Waste of Time

by Alexis Harte

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1.
Heads or Tails On any given day, there’s a chance of rain another meteor, just missed again The earth might shake, seas breach the walls and what were the odds, we even made it here at all? Like a penny you fell, from out of the blue all reason betrayed, when I opened my hands and found you... Heads I love you, tails I love you too you can call it in the air In this Milky Way, I’d say the odds are good someone’s staring back, from their clearing in the woods But that's a guessing game, from my point of view and I won’t play dice, when it comes to me and you Heads I love you, tails I love you too It’s a Summer’s day, kids run and play but daddy’s down, ambulance on the way Guess the glass was tipped, the sand ran through so I will not waste, the little time I get with you Heads I love you, tails I love you too
2.
Downgraded 03:09
Downgraded Pluto taught me not to take anything for granted you might wake and find that you’re no longer a planet Though you haven’t changed who you are, still orbit the same star Someone can still decide you've been downgraded When it hits the shore, hits like a hurricane but after a while... settles into rain Though you haven't changed who you are, still carry the same scars Someone can still decide you’ve been downgraded
3.
Waiting to Be Found I crouch in the dusty darkness I listen for your footsteps to fall but there's nothing at all I blend with the coats in the hallway you’re saying olly-oxen-free You stopped looking for me that’s too bad I was waiting to be found I open a conversation, always start with something small try a temporary diversion...starting to feel like Fall One day I'll show you all but for now I'm just waiting to be found This house has grown awful quiet all the kids I guess they’ve up and they’ve gone Guess they've all moved along except for me Still waiting to be found I open a conversation, always start with something small try a temporary diversion, starting to feel like Fall One day I'll show you all but for now I'm just waiting to be found
4.
We Carry Our Clouds Little black-eyed Lazy Susan knew damn well she was losing Couldn’t keep her down she skipped town like a stone on the water Your head’s down, your hands in your pockets thoughts rising like bottle rockets Summer’s heat, the skies got hazy flowers blooming loud and crazy We carry our clouds from town to town then wonder why the rain comes pouring down our blue sky I put on my shoes, and stepped outside turned around with traveler’s eyes And as the familiar became strange I realized I didn’t know my neighbor’s name We travel so far, we fly by plane but we never leave ourselves behind in the end We carry our clouds from town to town and wonder why the rain comes pouring down our blue sky Foolin around by the dock hands spin madly round the clock you took that little sunfish out on a dare When the waves that crashed over your bow turned from fresh to salt water somehow you’re in the deep sea We carry our clouds from town to town and wonder why the rain comes pouring down our blue sky Hey Susan, are you homeward bound? I really want to show you all the things I’ve found The sweetest plums on the red, red trees and a river still flows under Berryman Street
5.
No Wrong Way Home I hope your dreams, don't feel small and when the wind begins to rise, I hope your mast stands straight and tall These are fragile times, we blur the lines in the unlikeliest of places, we all find a little grace …and there's no wrong way home One winter coat, two wild eyes all the unspoken love that you're carrying inside These ain't the calmest days, but you like it that way won't you rest a while in the storm’s peaceful eye? It ain't where you been, but where you're going to it's not where you're from, but where you belong ….and there's no wrong way home The spiraled shell, the golden mean you see you’re just the sum of those who've been down this road before…you were expecting more? It won’t hurt to rest a while…the soft shoulder by your side ...and there’s no wrong way home I didn’t choose you, you didn’t chose me for the briefest, flashing moment, kept each other company Then we’re on our own, wheeling restless bones and I’ll see you by and by … two unlikely butterflies It ain't where you been, but where you're going to it's not where you're from, but where you belong ...and there's no wrong way home We go 0 to 9, never reaching 10 because we turn ourselves over and start it all again I guess I’m still a child guess I’ll never learn… part of me still likes to watch an odometer turn ...and there’s no wrong way home One blue-green world, round as a pearl doesn't matter which road you take, you’ll wind up in the same place Thats not philosophy, its geometry and if things don’t look the same, well it’s only you who’ve changed It ain't where you been, but where you're going to it's not where you're from, but where you belong ...and there's no wrong way home So I hope your plans accounted for rain I hope you stashed a few dreams where you might find them once again These are the best of days, it never feels that way it’s only in the rearview mirror, these things become clearer ...and there’s no wrong way home One braid for laughter, one for fear I tied ‘em both together, cuz it was always windy here And don’t take this wrong, but I never knew were you watching over me, or I was watching over you..? It ain't where you been, but where you're going to it's not where you're from, but where you belong ...and there's no wrong way home
6.
“7 Lively Sins” There’s be no saints, without some sinners no good losers, without some bad winners You can have your love, you can have your trust just gimme greed, envy, and lust with 4 more, waiting in line So many sins....So little time There’d be no you, there’d be no me no one was born of chastity. You can have your faith, your humility I’ve got pride, wrath, and gluttony We'll stay in bed, til the sun climbs high So many sins, so little time You see the church, I see the steeple you open the door, see the little people You can have your prayers and your bended knees I'm going to do just what I please.. Because it’s over in the blink of an eye So many sins, so little time
7.
Dustaway 02:52
Dustaway Once we made plans but only for one day ....kept the dust away I still feel the feel of the sea in my throat with sticks on the sand I wrote, a note: We’ve got plans Take one mis-step a steep flight of stairs And you could lose 5 years to anger, pain and tears I still feel the feel of the tube in my throat the scar on my back was a note, she wrote: still have to make plans
8.
Grown 02:54
Grown Felt the tug on my sleeve, being pulled straight from the rat race can still your fingers, tracing lines down my face You said, “I can't believe they'd make you sit there in that room when that big ole clock is ticking and the world's in sweet bloom” We felt the pull of the sea, and it tugged us all down under didn't mind drowning in this perfect of sense of wonder I never thought you'd miss me, no I never did assume while your heart was beating loud and your world was in sweet bloom They’ll be grey days, but you’ll find your way and If the road looks long, my how you’ve grown It all happened so randomly, like someone spun a wheel that paired you with me and we're alive on the same summer day But one day that same wheel will carry you away My you've grown
9.
IYAWYSTYA (Leo’s Song) It might look like a schoolyard, but it’s a map of the world and all of the countries are little boys and girls Who patrol the playground, their borders defined who say woe to the traveller, with no allegiance aligned ...but you'll be fine if you are who you say that you are When you get a little older, they're gonna put you on a graph and if you’re an outlier, rest assured they’re gonna laugh And you may find yourself dancing, quite all alone or you might attract a little cluster of your very own ...and you’ll be fine if you are who you say that you are Might be a classroom, a greenroom, a courtroom, or a field if you find your voice is shaking, keep your resolution steeled As you gather your courage, your wit, and your fire may you voice stay steady, as recite your lines ...you'll be fine if you are who you say that you are
10.
The Lucky Ones Work our hands all day, neath the hot copper sun not just for what we gain, but for what we become We become, the lucky ones Now my hammer has awoken, and my nails they run and hide the need to work, to build a home, will not be denied Still they called us, the lucky ones And we built this house against all odds, with sweat, blood, and pluck and found that our good fortune had little to do with luck And we built ourselves a great ship, tied two kites to the rails with a mast so straight and tall, the wind couldn't help but fill the sails And we sailed out, like the lucky ones
11.
Halfway 02:30
Halfway When I'm halfway into your heart, you have to let me know so I don't make my worst mistake, turn around and let you go Send me a postcard, though you live so close add just a few... too many Xs and Os And if I should lose my way give up, or go astray Please let me know that I’m halfway there It won't take too much, for my love to coax laugh a bit too long at the worst of my jokes Ask me a favor and ask no one else shoot me that look, I’ve been dying to see ...Like a tall glass of water at mile 13 I want to stay in this race, I want to pick up my pace so please let me know.. that I'm halfway there

about

A 1968 Gibson ES-335

I stopped keeping a journal years ago. These albums (6 now!) have become a substitute: a place to log snapshots, stories, and observations I’ve made along the way.

The 5 years since my last record, 6 Spoons of Honey, have been a wild ride. The journal entry would start with a long slow-mo fall down a steep staircase that left me with a broken transverse process and a severely herniated L5-S1, unable to hold up my then infant son.

In the hazy Oxy aftermath, I bought a sweat-burnished cherry-red 1968 Gibson ES-335. It was the classic reckless bout of GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome) that always accompanies feelings of self-pity. The only reason I could afford such a pedigreed guitar was its cracked headstock joint. But the repair was perfect, a beautiful, clean incision. No longer a collector’s item, it’s what’s known as a player’s guitar. Any guitarist will know what I mean.

That guitar and I bonded over our shared age (I too was built in ‘68) and our broken spines. Looking back, I guess we kind of gave each other our purposes back. All of the non-acoustic songs on this record were written on that ES-335, and it is all over the whole record.

“The scar on my back was a note she wrote—still have to make plans”

Two Rivers

I grew up next to Live Oak Creek in Berkeley and used to explore it after school. My pals and I even had an Adventurers Club, admission to which was earned through a solo trek underground in the tunnel beneath the city block. I can always flash back to the reverb-y black, the cold slimy walls, the rumble of old volvos, VWs, and mopars on the street above.

In my 20s, I trained in ecology and spent a few years between the U.S. and the Brazilian Amazon, where I explored a much bigger river. But the truth is, it will always remain a total mystery to me. The Amazon—its lore, its traditions—is not part of my memory.


I found my home over the last two decades, and settled back into my old neighborhood. Now my son (and my daughter before him) and I play in that same Berkeley creek after I pick him up from the same elementary school I went to (Oxford men, both of us). The story of me crashing my bike down a gully into the creek, emerging bloody and wailing, is part of his mythology of the place. We are slowly building traditions and memories here.

A Perfect Waste of Time is a 5-year journal entry for a long trip home. It’s about reconciling the desire to travel widely with the thrill of knowing a place well, no matter how provincial it may sometimes feel. The mysteries are still there, dark tunnels under the street. I’m reveling in the exoticism of the familiar. I hope you can hear that in this record.

“We travel so far, we fly by plane. But we never leave ourselves behind in the end.”

credits

released October 20, 2016

(1) engineered and mixed by Jonathan D. Wiesler at Decibelle Recording, San Francisco, CA (decibellerecording.com), produced by Jonathan D. Wiesler and Alexis Harte.

(2–10) engineered and mixed by Jon Evans at Brick Hill Studios, Orleans, MA (jonevansmusic.com), co-produced by Jon Evans and Alexis Harte.

(11) mixed by Jonathan D. Wiesler, engineered and produced by Alexis Harte.

Mastered by Piper Payne at Coast Mastering (coastmastering.com).

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Alexis Harte San Francisco, California

Alexis Harte is a Peabody and Annie Awards-winning singer-songwriter and composer.

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