Tripecac - Songs to Sleep By 2

This was "Trek (2)" (from Gourmet) with my commentary over it. I was introducing the first Songs to Sleep By album.

This was "Better Drumsticks" (from Gourmet) plus some comments at the end introducing the next song.

This was a shortened version of "Apostrophe Song (2)" (from Best of IPECAC) plus some comments at the very end.

This was a short version of "Five Through Night" (from Leaping Leper Limousine) plus a lot of commentary.

This was a slightly truncated version of "Tunes from the Bottle" (from Fake Reverb 2) plus some comments at the beginning and end.

This was a truncated version of "Downpour" (from Live at Carnegie Hall) plus some comments at the beginning and end.

This is a sped-up excerpt from the opening "Chatter (1)" on The Party. There's no extra comments. It's here for ambience only.

This was a sped-up version of "Anchovy Rock (2)" (from The Party). There's no extra comments, but it's interesting to hear how the energy level is increased thanks to the sped-up effect.

This was a sped-up and shortened version of "Fish Time (2)" (from Master Practice 2) plus comments in the beginning, middle, and end.

This was a sped-up, shortened version of "Christmas in Cancun (2)" (from Master Practice 2) plus some comments at the beginning.

More chatter, this time before the final Master Anchovies song on Songs to Sleep By. I decided not to record on top of any more songs because their sound quality was getting better. Lots of "uh"s. I was probably multi-tasking.

The chorus is more established compared to the one at The Party. For some reason Jon didn't sing his two little parts. The solos are nice, though.

My vocals are light, not too worn out. I extended "his" a long time but didn't shriek it. Not a bad way to end our first [recorded] practice of 1990.

This was part of the narration for Songs to Sleep By 2. It consists of two tracks of improvised chatter, with the music to "Artificial Life" in the background. The talking makes fun of my long-windedness and my poor (but persistent) attempts at humor.

I like this better than the Dead Practice 4 version. The sound quality is a little less muffled, and my vocals are more energetic, even a bit hyper. It even has a rare fourth verse.

The lyrics' "August" reference makes me think this practice was recorded in August.

I don't know if the knocking near the beginning was us or my parents. Other than that, the flubbed chorus, and the nice chord at the end, this version is devoid of character. But aren't they all?

For some reason we decided to tell jokes. This first part centers around a (pretty funny) joke that Luke had heard recently.

I think Allen played the little keyboard run at 0:43. I banged on the drums.

This is the final version, which I included on the tape version of The Hermit (my 1994 Tripecac album). Luke wasn't there, but Allen was. We changed the lyrics to include Allen in the story.

We recorded direct line-ins this time. The difference in sound quality is enormous. I also added more sounds to the backing music.

This was the last thing we ever recorded together, and probably the last time more than two of us were in the same room together; after that we scattered to different states and countries.

It's interesting how the last words are "I'm free". I guess I was, for better or worse.

This was the last piece of music we played together as a band. It was a moody improv, with me on drums and Allen and Luke on keyboards. It's pretty awful, musically.

This separated the Anchovies songs from the Tripecac songs on Songs to Sleep By 2. It also introduced "All My Love" (from Archives), with a warning about the profanity.

In the background you can hear "Fireflyz" (from College Collage).

This is my favorite song on the Archives album. It's very bouncy and sassy (if you listen to the lyrics).

The words came straight from a break-up letter. I thought it'd be funny to put these super-negative words to bright, poppy music, so I did.

Was I right about the dark/light juxtaposition being "funny"? I don't know. It's certainly a theme that stuck with me. I'd take a really dark topic, and make fun of it by adding peppy music. Many of the songs on The Hermit and Aminals are like that. This song was my first "success" with the formula. It encouraged me to keep doing it.

I censored the really bad parts, even though I didn't write them. I'm trying to keep this site [relatively] free of profanity. Enjoy the tune!

I liked this peppy instrumental so much that I put it on Songs to Sleep By 2. It's the only Tripecac instrumental that made it on there.

I wrote this for my then-girlfriend Beth, who was lactose intolerant. The voice in the beginning is from the end of the Voice Mail that she left me. The music is catchy and the lyrics are funny, if a little gross.

This is musically unrelated to "Christmas in Cancun", which I wrote for the Master Anchovies. The only thing they have in common is that I wrote them right before (or after) trips to Cancun.

I had emailed the Dead Anchovies that I was going to write a second song about Cancun. These lyrics are directed at them (Allen, Anand, and Luke). I was just basically bragging about going to Cancun while they stayed home. Pretty simple[minded] stuff.

People liked it. A lot. This was my first "hit" song (among my friends). I got tons of positive feedback for it and many people actually requested copies of it. It was a nice dose of encourage, a good way to end the year.

The intro states that the song is about Jon, but it's actually not. It's a fictional story about posessiveness.

Not many people said they liked this song when I first recorded it. Perhaps it sounded too much like a "conventional" pop-song. I always liked it, though; it's probably my favorite song on the album.

The date is approximate. I know it preceded "Numb (live)", which was recorded on 1993-01-03, and I'm pretty sure I wrote it in 1993.

I initially wrote this for Anand, who told me he was getting tired of being a student. For a while it became a "theme song" for me, at least in my own head, especially whenever I wasn't feeling enthusiastic about going to work or classes or anything "un-fun". It's not about depression; it's about loving entertainment and not wanting to leave it.

The intro is actually the ending from the previous song ("IPECAC is Dead").

There are actually some more lyrics which never made it into the song. They explain the context a little better:

AT START:
  "tell me about it."
  "tell you about what?"
  "well, how's school goin'?"
  "pretty awful, to tell the truth."

AT END:
  well you say that every morning
  when you're head's still thick and sleepy
  and you'd rather just keep on snoring
  well, what if you kept on sleeping?

Here we go!!! This is where everything "clicked" into place. It was my dad's birthday, and I think I recorded this very quickly as a last-minute gift for him.

Musically, I turned to simple, catchy piano-based pop which I probably wrote in half and hour on my parents' upright piano before scurrying off to my room to finish the song. The lyrics are simple and straightforward. There's no symbolism, no pretentiousness, no real effort... It all flowed very naturally.

Everyone liked this song, including me. My parents enjoyed the music but thought the lyrics were "sad".

By this time I think I started realizing that my parents just didn't "get" the point of many of my songs, which is that:

1. I enjoy being a hermit.
2. I like to talk (and sing) about myself.
3. I like to be funny when I write.
4. So, I often make fun of myself when I sing.

There is no "depression" in my life. There's no real tension, and rarely is there any stress. My life is fun and easy, and I like it! However, when it comes time to sing, I feel like I need something dramatic, some sort of conflict.

It's like making faces in a mirror (or on a video). I don't want to make pretty faces; I want to make ugly faces, the more grotesque and disturbing the better! That's one of the "fun" things about self-reflection.

It's the same way with lyrics. When I'm writing a song (about my favorite subject: me), I'm "looking" at myself and instead of posing "properly" or "handsomely" I prefer to look like the Biggest Dork Ever.

Right now, I'm in my room writing this, getting a total kick out of listening to my music and writing about myself and looking forward to a nice long jog or bike ride this afternoon... I love the control that solitude gives me over my activities. I am having a blast doing these things by myself, and I've always been like that for as long as I can remember.

Of course, every once in a while it's fun to actually talk to another human being. :) There's something inside me, either an instinct or something I was taught at an early age, that tells me to "socialize every once in a while". My guess is that this drive is natural (hardware), that most animals have a primal urge to seek companionship...

Regardless of its origin, for me, the drive to seek human companionship is usually nowhere near as compelling as the drive to accomplish things. For me, creativity, organization, learning, and exploration are the Big Satisfiers, both exciting and pride-instilling, and along with them comes (either naturally or through experiential associations) a desire for "daytime" independence from The Pack.

Of course, if The Pack actually shared 90% of my interests, then maybe I wouldn't "have" to be a hermit in order to pursue the Big Satisfiers. Maybe someday I will find a Travis-compatible Pack, but right now the easiest, most reliable way to have a Good Day is to plan to do things by myself.

If you don't believe me, listen to the music rather than the words. The music is un-selfconscious and FUN, just like my days in my room... It's joyfully indulgent! :)

My girlfriend at the time (Beth) asked me to write a gentle song, so I wrote this. Like "The Hermit", it was constructed around a simple piano-based melody. The mix emphasizes the vocals which is a good thing because these are some of my favorite lyrics (and the music's a bit distorted).

The lyrics are very autobiographical, poking fun at my introversion (the tendency to fixate on my own interests even when other people are right there trying to interact with me).

By the end of the song, however, I was fixating on my girlfriend. Sometimes the bubble of introversion extends to include other people, and when that happens, the Hermit is doubly happy! :)

Although this song is not "punk" or even "manly", I liked it enough to play it on the radio (I was an occasional DJ). When I broadcasted it, it didn't matter to me that no one was listening except my girlfriend (who recorded my shows); by playing "Introvert" on the air I was saying, "look, here's something I like, and if it happens to be girl-pop, then so be it!" Maybe that "ah, just go for it" attitude is punk?

Anyway, this was another well-liked song. Most of my audience by this time was girls. :)

Jon was my bandmate in both IPECAC and The Master Anchovies. During high school, Jon quit the Anchovies to join a "real band" (which played Jazz standards). In college, Jon was playing with some other bands and although their music was technically impressive, I didn't hear anything original or exciting in their music.

Meanwhile, Jon seemed to become less playful and more serious and "proper" all the time, so he was less "fun", at least to me.

"Stop Playing the Blues" was my plea to Jon to "lighten up". I don't know if I ever played this song for him. I think I was worried that the lyrics would offend him, even though they were a kind-hearted attempt to reconnect with him. I didn't have much faith in people's ability to interpret my music.

Musically, I wanted something very happy and light that could act as a cheer-me-up, something that's the opposite of the blues. The end result was this jazzy, polka-like ditty. The bass line is based on the one in "How Ya Is'n", which was a song Jon and I had co-written and sang together in IPECAC.

By the time I recorded this, my audience had dwindled to my family and girlfriend. Feedback from them was lukewarm. I felt like the new album wasn't living up to its predecessor, The Hermit. "SPCA" was trivial, "Solid Blue" was sappy, "The Trap" was mean, and "Another Anchovies Practice" was an aimless mess.

So I decided to write a song about my musical decline.

The lyrics express my frustration. They're introverted again, like on the The Hermit. The music is peppy, and my vocal energy was high (though a little juvenile). I actually liked it a lot, enough to name the album after it.

Soon after I finished it, however, I moved off campus and got a TV. My musical productivity plummeted even further.

This is driving and insightful. It's the last big song on the album, and exudes both humor and power. I love the lyrics!

These comments ended the 1997 compilation: Songs to Sleep By 2.