{"id":2657,"date":"2018-03-27T10:58:58","date_gmt":"2018-03-27T17:58:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ayearofsongs.org\/blg\/?page_id=2657"},"modified":"2021-06-23T12:35:51","modified_gmt":"2021-06-23T19:35:51","slug":"preview-mode-from-the-beginning","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/ayearofsongs.org\/blg\/","title":{"rendered":"Discovery Mode: from the beginning"},"content":{"rendered":"

You’ll find a tag cloud and a number of other content discovery options in the sidebar (web) or footer (mobile).
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\n A Girl Named October<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n       A s this first entry is being posted, the sun will be crossing the celestial equator. Today, <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n A Star Is Bored<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n This recording of this song aspires to what I believe the music press likes to call \"amiable sloppiness.\" I thought <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Only the Dance<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n This song has always escaped my grasp in the past and this time is no exception. Let's call this recorded <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Kingdom of Fools<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n T his is my latest finished song. Recently, I saw a bumper sticker with big, bold letters on a patriotic <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Looking for Trouble<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n It was a rainy Saturday in the early summer of 1981. I was sitting on a wooden chair at the <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Pretty Little Head<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n I've got a pain in my head and a fire in my loins... and a whole lot of empty in <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Kristin (Was Never Here)<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n It's too hot to think, here... it's certainly too hot to strap on a pair of headphones. I recorded this <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n When Ashley Said Goodbye<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n     It's another scorcher here in south Cali... not as oppressive, maybe, as yesterday -- unless you're foolish enough <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Spit in the Ocean<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n I wrote this song when I was working in a gas station in a very rough part of town. You <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n I Can See Myself in My Guitar<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n This is the headstock of my first guitar. Sharp-eyed comics fans will note the faded image of the Silver Surfer, <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n There Ain't No Heart in My Heart Anymore<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n Sometimes, back in the days of my fitful career as punkrocker-turned-folkie, I used to tag myself as the Bard of <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Paperback<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n There was one thing on my mind when I wrote this song. I wanted to get in the line, \"Get <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Sheena No Sheena (No Sheena No)<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n This song started with me dropping my head into my hands, addressing a friend who was not present but who <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n When You Look Through Me<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n Not sure, really, why the lyrics of this 1994 tune came to me. I wasn't in a relationship at the <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n His or Mine<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n \u00a0 Continuing right along in the slow boil, passive aggressive vein... This one goes back to August 1990. There's not <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>
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\n Someday, Baby<\/a>\n\n \n\n<\/div>\n
\n Ever done the right thing when it came to someone who was in love with you that you didn't feel <\/div>\n<\/a>\n\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n
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