Ferryman

BAD PEOPLE'S PETS

Pardon, Maman

Last summer I went on a bike ride and never came home. I woke up in a hospital room with a broken spine, a traumatic brain injury, and had fucked up my face so badly I could barely speak. Every doctor I saw said I was lucky to be alive. I can’t remember anything about the accident. I’m still trying to piece together some of it from dreams and what others have told me.

From what I can tell, there's a period of around 6 months there, where I have little to no memory at all. But I guess somewhere in the middle of recovering from all that, still wearing a chest brace and floating through some strange drugged up dreamlike existence, I started making music again. Hearing songs in my head about dying, about the trauma and the pain. And songs about gratitude. Choosing to live. I later discovered that I had recorded an entire album during this time. I have no memory of making it.

When I first re-discovered these songs it was kind of disorienting. It was almost as if someone else entirely had written and sang them. Some of the lyrics are pretty bleak and intense on paper. But the feeling I get from listening to the album now is actually quite hopeful. It sounds like someone who’s inspired to create something in the face of all that pain. It sounds like someone who wants to keep on living.

I'm so happy to still be here. And so excited to get the chance to share this new music with you all!!

Thanks all, love you.
xoxo
Chris

Pardon, Maman

FODÉ

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