New York/Songwriting

Jack Hardy with songwriters at his apartment on Houston Street. (digital)

It's been a while since I wrote a song--something I've been doing since I was 20 years old--what with photography and family responsibilities taking up my time. Last Monday I went Jack Hardy's weekly songwriter meeting at his battered tenement apartment on Houston Street in the Village. I went with a new song to premiere and subject to the critical ears of a roomful of writers of all levels of accomplishment.

Lyrics don't always read so well on the page, but I think these hold up:

underground

the man in the coat looks uncomfortably hot
he prays from a book he rocks back and forth
the train rumbles through the rock blasted earth
eyes shift in sockets there's a bulge in a pocket
ipods play private reveries

chorus:

roll on roll on subterranean train
through the blind tunnel of fate
roll on roll on with a fearful freight
if you see something say something
before it's too late

school kids swarm in and swing from the poles
a mariachi band plays besame mucho
a family from somewhere not anywhere near here
clings to their map of the world underground
ipods play private reveries

down in the glare air conditioned hades
fire and brimstone in an unattended package
each sudden lurch and with each random search
eyes pry deeper into unattended musings
ipods play private reveries

The "see something say something" bit will be familiar to riders of the New York City subway. It's an ad campaign calling for vigilance on the part of the public, but many of us regard it as furthering an atmosphere and politics of fear.


Jack's apartment is lined with photos of the famous and almost famous. (digital)

The song went over well at Jack's, but there were many good songs that night. It's not always that way. It can be tedious at times, but then, without warning, the most remarkable compositions emerge.

On Friday I went to the Postcrypt Coffeehouse, a basement music venue at Columbia University. Tim Robinson, a frequent contributor to the Monday evening meetings at Jack's, was host, and his guests were Suzanne Vega and Richard Julian. The three of them took turns playing songs--whatever seemed appropriate at the moment--and the audience, most of whom didn't know that Suzanne and Richard were appearing, were enthralled.

I've known Suzanne for many years, and at this point, I guess she's one of my oldest friends. Richard I met some years later when he began coming to Jack's and hanging out with our circle of songwriters. Richard was great then, but his writing and performing have matured and developed like nothing I've ever seen. His songs are accessible, but also sophisticated, witty, and profound. Where many of us struggle with our little melodies and chord progressions, Richard does things musically I can only begin to understand. He's seeing some well-deserved success these days--Norah Jones has covered a couple of his songs--and the Times has written him up more than once. He used to sing back-up vocals for me.

Tim Robinson I met more recently, also at Jack's. He's an extraordinarily literate songwriter who is recognized by people like Suzanne and Richard, but still struggles to find a wider audience. The record industry no longer (if it ever did) shows interest in people like Tim, and he, like many others, are left to record on their own and distribute their music in alternate ways. I expect him to endure and prosper as an artist, regardless of the trappings of success. Look him up.