Original Song: Flying
As I did last month, I’m loading up this month’s original song – Flying – in a very raw state, mainly because I think there some real potential for a remixed/reworked version to take it to a new level in the coming weeks. Some of the lyrics for this one have been floating around for a long time, but it’s only been in the last week that I finally worked out what to do with it musically, and finished off the lyrics to suit.
The first verse and a bit of the chorus was originally penned back in the mid-90s when I was flying to London on a business trip, so there’s a good reason for always saving stuff that you write!
The recording process for this one was very simple – a single take of guitar (Taylor T5 through a Line 6 UX1 into Garageband and then applying a horns preset to it – yeah, go figure!); bass (Fender Jazz 62 Reissue through an Apogee One interface); vocals (again using the Apogee One) and a basic drum loop from Garageband that I’ve done some minimal editing on. Tack on a shaker in the chorus and the nifty aircraft landing sound effect at the beginning and end and I was done.
Part of me thinks I’m getting a bit lazy loading up songs that I haven’t put enough time into crafting, but last month’s original song – A Lot Of Ways To Die In Alaska – really took on a new life when Aaron “Cliff Cavan Goes Postal collaborator” Cliff played around with it (I really recommend you have a listen). The version of Flying here is really just meant to be a reference point for when Aaron and I hopefully play around with this in another Cliff Cavan Goes Postal remix and are able to post the results. I’m very aware that the component I enjoy most is the basic writing element far more than the crafting/mixing/editing etc etc!
©2013 Chuck Smeeton
Trapped in a tin can 30,000 feet high,
Lost a day of my life alone in the sky
No contact with concepts of known gravity
An endless view of the endless blue sea
A place with no name, it’s not a point on a map
You know how to get there but can’t ever go back
It’s been just a day but it feel like a year
I wanna go home, get me outta here
Like an unknown stain on this white boneless mass
Defining the odyssey’s fateful impasse
I sit and I wait, I twist and I groan
My brain infused with the engine’s drone
Through red cobwebbed eyes
A small part of me dies
Second-hand air closes in
Enveloping my clammy skin
Invisible turmoil your senses can’t touch
The passing of distance like time you can’t clutch
Onward and onward, increased levels of pain
The auto pilot has taken over my brain