Dreams and visions from the last couple of years, some apocalyptic, some archetypal. Featuring electric guitar and vocals by Timothy and guests.

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arch types of the alpaca lips

This is not an album about my own mortality. Let's say it's about impermanence. That sounds much classier.

And I'm fine with moving on at some point. But I have lately been writing songs about the delicate and transient nature of all of it - my own life, the planet, our links to one another. Mostly celebrating, sometimes wistful.

here and gone

Meditation on the new year 2022, transitions, new and old human problems, and a melody from a dream a few weeks ago.

lyrics:

how are the mighty fallen
the grass grows tall on their graves
how are the mighty fallen
the vicious are all that remain
how are the mighty fallen
their language lingers but fades
how are the mighty fallen
in this time passes an age

how are the hopeful stricken
how are the loyal betrayed
how do the lonely wander
how are the working repaid

when will I see my beloved
how will I live in my age
where will my children find safety
now I may turn the page
now I will turn the page
may we all turn the page

the mighty fallen

It's February in New York. This is what came out. Look, it's not up to me.

prologue (to the alpaca lips)

A happy ode to sitting still.

The title and chorus for this song came to me in early 1990 just after I finished up my previous album, “the flower grandchildren’s quiet transformation.” I knew at that point that this was going to be the title track for my next album, but it wasn’t until two years later, when I had most of the remaining songs for that album written, that I actually got down to writing the verses for this one. During those years I was diligently sitting quietly for a half hour each morning, often accompanied by my cat. It was a nice thing to do. I liked to keep in mind how silly meditation is, in a cute kind of way - it helped keep me from putting on airs about it (at least a little). This song is definitely from that viewpoint.

Andrew Rappaport engineered nearly all the songs on the "counting the moon" album in June 1992, on my old Tascam 4-track cassette recorder. We had a great time.

counting the moon

A contemplative version of the old folk song about leaving, separation, and longing for return.

This song took me seven years to record. I did some tracks in 1993, of which only the harmony vocals have survived. I did some more work on it in about 1996, including recording the piano intro at a place where my friend Sharon was house-sitting. I redid all the lead vocals in October of 1999, then all the instruments in January 2000.

It’s a mysterious song, Shenandoah. I’m told it’s a sea shanty, yet it talks about inland rivers. Maybe it’s addressing the river, or a region, or a person. That imprecision opens it up - I can see it applying to the whole panoply of faces, places, and experiences that have slipped away as we’ve floated down this river, that we’ll never see again… or that perhaps we will.

Shenandoah - river of my dreams

A hymn to the inspiration and guidance I feel from flowing water. Five-part a cappella harmony. Straight takes, no editing.

I wrote this in the fall of 1995, the morning after having seen the movie Beyond Rangoon. The climax of the movie comes as a group of Burmese refugees is trying to cross a river marking the Thai border. At the time, I was spending some time every day watching the creek near my house.

keep rolling down river

New Year meditation on invasions.

What if all the invasive species decided to spontaneously combust?

What if you were one of them?

My old friend Kate Khosla kindly lent her beautiful voice!

explosion of starlings

Hearing voices might make you wonder if you're going crazy. But what if you
find someone else who's getting the same message?

I wanted to explore a mysterious parasensory experience, in a Lovecraftian
vein, but with the possibility that maybe the mysterious force will turn out
to be the salvation of humanity?

It struck me while writing that finding common experience with another human being is probably at least as valuable as believing that you're not crazy.

Many thanks to Katie Marks for her terrific voice and for playing the
character of the transported academic with such guts and enthusiasm, and
patience!

lyrics

        the song of a thousand voices
        whispers in my ear
        the story it tells is held
        between our hope and our fear

    V1 - he:
    in Jakarta, Odessa, and Istanbul,
    Alexandretta and Bengbu
    i see the same sign and hear the same phrase
    and it's spoken just for me

    in Oaxaca, Colombo, and Abengourou,
    and a jungle-eaten ruin in the north of Peru,
    i hear the same phrase and i see the same sign
    and it's pointing to the sea

        the song of a thousand voices
        whispers in my ear
        i'd like to pretend i don't know how it ends
        and it’s all that i can hear

    V2 - she:
    i built drones to collect all the data
    found the centers of mass in 3D
    connected the mean isothermals - cuz -
    a whale doesn't see what we see

        a literature search turned up nothing
        until i expanded the terms

    by an inclement word i am suddenly stirred
    i delete all my files as my vision is blurred

        the night of a thousand dances
        instantaneously ancient and key
        i know what it means, but i doubt what it seems
        and it's all that i can see

    V3 - he:

    from this ruthless depression i finally woke,
    got a new set of clothes, a good meal, and a smoke
    made my way to this pier and found you standing here;
    do you think it could still be a joke?

        the night of a thousand dances
        brought you here to me tonight
        [both:]
        and though we dive into darkness,
        i know that we go into light

        [she:]
        the song of a thousand voices
        brought you here to me tonight
        [both:]
        and though we dive into darkness,
        i know that we go into light

        [both - he/she:]
        the song of a thousand voices
        brought me here to you tonight
        and though we dive into darkness,
        i know that you know that we go
        into eternal light

a thousand voices

An old song that was transposed into every religious context during that ecumenical, Dances of Universal Peace era.

we are one

Introduction to the inside (side 2) of "counting the moon."

interlude ii

interlude ii (1992)

Closing for the outside (side 1) of "counting the moon."

interlude i

interlude i (1992)

I wrote this in January 2005, and have performed it solo many times but it took a while to get it recorded.

Each verse (and the bridge) is a scene from the Ithaca, NY area.

Lyrics:

a flash of gold
a flash of green
a flash of something old you
thought you never should've seen
a flash of alabaster
a flash of white, and after that
a flash of insight into
something gray you'd thought was unclean

rolling down the hillside,
tired and in no gear
the city lights below you,
up ahead a deer just crossed the road
 
you missed the sign,
but it occurs to you that
you are here.
 
you bought your ticket,
you paid the price:
you made your way here
slogging through the snow and ice
the sound and motion
wake you from sleep, mm
but it's the silence
that pulls you in deep.
 
come and dance with me,
i'm sitting very still
come sing your passion to the rooftops
and in the mumbled echo you might hear your name
 
there's only one way
to find out whether
you are here.
 
circling to land
the end of the line
no connecting flights
there's only one way to travel,
and that's forward in time.
 
i had a vision,
it went like this:
a quiet sunbeam
and a forest kiss
it led me forward, but
now it's so far away
and when I glimpse it, it
only leads to yesterday
 
how can i run in darkness, flying into fear?
but if i listen close and stay standing here,
will it come to me?
 
it all comes to this,
and this is you,
and you are here.

A song about not being able to write a song about it... with a show-don't-tell ending.

Lyrics:

if i put all that's true
about how things are and how they've been between me and you
in a song
they'd all doubt me;
they'd get mad,
and say i was wrong.

chorus:

    because i am not a unicorn,
    and you are not a goddess,
    i guess;
    except i know you are.
    and you and i together
    are not the center of the universe;
    except - 
    that is what we are.

and if i told how it goes
when you walk in the room, and what happens to my toes
in a song -
and i sang it -
to an audience - i wouldn't last too long

when i write this song
i'll try not to ramble on
i have to tell the truth, 
but tell it slantwise or nowise
and i can't talk about your eyes at all...
or maybe i'll just play, after all.

credits:
tjw: classical, electric, and 6- and 12-string guitars, electric bass, ukulele, drum pads, organ, sitar, vocals

not a unicorn

On that particular evening, I realized it was time for my heart to break.  Again.

Is your heart more like a rock, or an eggshell?

Either way, what's inside?

And how will you find out?

lyrics:

    every time your heart breaks,
    it gets a little clearer
    every time your hand shakes
    (whether it’s from fear or anger)
    but you move slowly forward,
    you move closer to your heart:
    your broken heart;
    your broken-open heart
    every time your heart breaks,
    it gets a little clearer

    every time your heart breaks,
    let it break open
    every time your heart breaks,
    feel it! feel it, feel it!
    every time, every time, every time
    so many times—
    who would you be if your heart were constantly
    breaking, breaking open?
    clearly breaking open...
    breaking open clear

    every time my heart breaks,
    it gets a little clearer
    every time my heart breaks,
    it gets a little nearer
    to my real heart...
    and i hope it breaks again, breaks again and again
    yes i hope it breaks again, breaks again and again
    yes i hope it breaks again and again,
    and again and again and again
    because clear is what i want in the end

    every time your heart breaks,
    it gets a little clearer
    every time your heart breaks...

credits:

tjw: Martin D-28 acoustic guitar, bass ukulele, vocals

Additional production by Bob Hutko at Glob Studios. Thanks, Bob!

every time

A weird little side trip about the movie Poor Things.

Lyrics:

I am my mother’s daughter
As he’s his father’s son
But I have known my mother’s heart
As no one else has done.
I sailed away for freedom,
For love, and for to run
Now I’ve seen all that men can do,
And not yet twenty-one.

The mist upon the river
The cold in which I sank
Then God the savior dragged me through
The mud upon the bank
But was I raised to heaven,
Or carried down to hell?
You may believe these stories;
I know not how to tell.

I’ve held my mother’s hands in mine
Well more than anyone
I’ve known my mother’s skin and blood
As no one’s ever done.
Now she and I together
Sit barefoot in the sun
I am my mother’s daughter,
As God’s his father’s son.

Credits:
Clara Weber: vocals
me: acoustic guitar, electric guitar, synths

my mother's daughter

True story.

Lyrics: (but maybe listen first without reading)

V1
i had a friend
two foot tall
furry and could jump right to the top of the wall
when we met
he filled my hands
he always felt it was his duty
to patrol the family lands

Chorus:
he was huge
he was poised
he made very little noise
he was long
he was lean

1 - he was a fast, efficient pouncer
but I think was never mean

2 - he was patient all the time that I spent 
looking at machines

V2
he was social
from day one
he just wanted all his people
to enjoy the grass and sun
he'd slip a collar
in a day
Didn't care how tight or loose,
he always found a way

V3
he looked at us
like he understood
though I Don't know if he knew we couldn't 
See the things he could
he slept two inches
from my feet
he'd tap me on the elbow
while I found him stuff to eat 

Bridge out of V3:
…and one morning, he was gone, gone, gone
for days, he was gone, gone, gone
now it's a week that he's been gone, gone, gone.

would I let him out again?
would I let him out again?
would I set him free again?
I would let him out again
i would let him break my heart again

going, going, gone, it’s time to be gone

V4
I was writing down these lyrics
we were sitting sad around
when my daughter sat up
and said… “what's that sound?”
i said I've been running / to the door for days, 
but She got up and looked anyways

now he is huge,
he is gray
and he came Back to us today
he is long,
he is well
it's a story he won't tell

he is here,
he is wise,
there's affection in his eyes
he is ours,
he is known
and he came 
back 
home.

and I will set him free again
just, not, tonight.

Credits:
tjw: vocals, acoustic guitar, electric bass
Clara Weber: vocals

gone

Those guys are such jokers!

Lyrics:

Lao-tze, Rumi, and Rilke
walk into a bar
this time they say nothing
they get served just as they are
Dogen walks in behind them
the bouncer asks for ID
he pulls a shard of mirror
looks deep, and says “it’s me”

you can stay here if you want,
but it’s time to go home
it’s time to go home
you can stay here if you want,
but I’ll walk you home

i walk in centuries later
never know just what i want
somebody does me a favor
puts a half empty glass down in front
i watch the careful hands
at the row of handles they pull
and i notice as i’ve been sitting
mine’s now half full

you can stay here if you want,
you can stay here if you want,
you can stay here if you want,
	and never leave home

you can stay here if you want,
	has your sediment settled?
you can stay here if you want,
	are you clear?
you can stay here if you want,
	are you ready to go?
are you ready to stay?
	are you ready to stay?

Credits:
tjw: 12-string guitar, electric bass, vocals, djembe, drum pad

Image: "Glass Half Full?" by Andrew Wilkinson, https://www.flickr.com/photos/andrew_j_w/3717563867

you can stay

The final act of an apocalyptic album. Influenced by Neal Stephenson's novel _Termination Shock_, the board game _Daybreak_, the movie _Civil War_, and Schecter guitars.

Lyrics:

going down
rising up
crisis change
loving cup
all too fooled

cruel world
Gaia’s web
rivers flow
glaciers ebb
all too true

stratosphere
biodome
staying here
moving home
all too soon

all too true 

marching trample
loading ammo
forest smolder
water dammer
all too much

all too true

all too true

Oren Fisher: solo guitar, rhythm guitar, bass
Timothy Weber: vocals, hand drum, solo guitar

lyrics:
i’m burning my way down a hall of green
The Dude abides, his remains to be seen
to see the remains one time when i go
from a pyre on the Ganges our asanas flow
our asanas flow from a Ganges pyre
it ends like beginning, and begins in fire

this hallway of green we light to fire
these remains abide beyond the pyre
this Dude with whom i shared a scene
this Ganges flows down a hall of green
remains begin, while our asanas flow
the green abides, and there i go

through the halls of green

I wrote this on the Fall Equinox to celebrate my tradition of not shaving for the seasons of astronomical Fall and Winter. Bonus: a 12-verse 1970's-style guitar solo with a verse for each month of the year. The upside is that the song is only 7 minutes, a 99.9% savings over the actual year.

lyrics:
    the greens and the browns
    that blanket our town
    are passing it off to the grays

    the forest above us
    the ones who still love us
    know of the shortening days

    i feel it inside
    though i’ve tried to deny
    that i’ll end up moving that way

    as we pass into autumn
    these thoughts, i have thought ’em
    and so i will no longer shave

    i’ll grow my beard long
    the red is long gone
    so i’ll gladly pass into the gray
    (whatever’s not white yet is gray)

    and if spring comes to be
    we’ll see what we see
    and i’ll take up the razor again

    but this is today
    when the leaves fly away
    and i’ll gladly and thankfully
    slowly pass into the gray

credits:

tjw: acoustic guitar, electric bass, electric guitar, vocals, drum synth pad

into the gray

I wrote this to my better self, the one that shows up and takes things lightly and doesn't catastrophize and generally acts like an adult.

Thanks to Angela Yantorno for her violin and voice!

Lyrics:

i don’t know what you love in me
i can’t see what you can see
i can’t explain why you come back so faithfully
i don’t know what you love in me

i don’t know how you stay with me
i’m restless and i fail to see
i’m always coming down on some little thing i found
i don’t know how you stay with me

when i’m alone and cold
deep down in that hole
you’re the one who’s standing next to me

when it’s time for me to go
above or below
your face is the only light i’ll need

it's true that you were meant for me
though who decides, i do not see
i'll look for you again into eternity
but i don’t know what you love
  what you love in me

what you love

A simple song about a simple but radical feeling.

lyrics:

    every time you walk into the room
    every time i feel my brain reboot

        and it goes right back to the beginning
        when you walked into my sight
        when you flowed on into this watershed
        and we flowed out into the night

    every time it catches me off guard
    every time i fall again, just as hard

    every time i get called back down from space
    every time suddenly here on the ground seeing your face

tjw: 12-string guitar, vocals, bass, organ

back to the beginning

A New Year dream.

In my neighborhood you can hear the Cornell University chimes playing melodies from the clock tower,  echoing through the neighborhood now and then.  I didn't specifically hear them playing Auld Lang Syne at midnight this year.  I did sing that with old friends though.

lyrics:

    i have heard this bell tolling
    its ancient song rolling
    down hills and through homes
    that belonged to my friends
    it accompanied them
    these good women and men
    but it will not sing that song again

        because its clapper is gone and its body is rust
        and the tower that held it has tumbled to dust
        will its song still be sung, or now will it just
        be a memory that lingers on?

    if this bell is our freedom
    and songs are our voices
    and the tower’s our town
    and our lives are our choices

        then who will remember
        these people and days
        when the dust has been scattered
        and the songs have no names?

    now i hear that bell ringing
    its song is what’s bringing
    me back to this now and this here
    and these friends are still singing
    a song that’s still ringing
    out strong for at least one more year

        through all that we hope and we fear
        it’s ringing if we are still here


parts:
tjw: guitar, vocals, bass uke, sampled tubular bells

new year bells

This is silly. But also serious. He's a menace. He's just doing what he does. He must be stopped. I'll be kind to him. Boundaries, man; boundaries.

Lyrics:
    we don’t share the same language,
    but in bed, that’s no big deal
    he doesn’t need words
    to show me how he feels
    i wish he could learn “subtlety,”
    or “consent,” or “apropos”
    but i’d settle for just two letters:
    why can’t he understand “no”?

        Sausalito walks on my kidneys
        Sausalito licks my hair
        Sausalito nurses my armpit
        Sausalito just doesn’t care

    his fur and his mind are both rabbit-soft
    his grasp of his surroundings is feeble
    the way he handles his front and back,
    he resembles a bag of weasels
    he’s incurably curious, though
    and his love for me is strong
    room to room, he follows me
    he talks to me all day long
    he meows at me all day long  [chirps, bdddps, yowls]
    did i mention that he talks to me all day--

        Sausalito hollers at mealtimes
        Sausalito licks and stares
        Sausalito leaves a wet spot
        Sausalito is always there

    have i told you what he does with a sweater?
    oh you don’t wanna know 
    what he does with a sweater
    no you don’t--
    i won’t talk about the sweater
    and what he does when they’re together
    we don’t talk about sweaters, no no no
      
    (and he makes eye contact while he does it)

        Sausalito licks my hoodie
        Sausalito purrs in my face
        Sausalito sucks on the duvet
        Sausalito claws me awake

    cause he wants me to know
    i just gotta know
    he needs me to know he cares

    Sausalito

    “clueless, even for a white guy”

Parts:
tjw: classical guitar, vocals

Sausalito

lyrics:

    a discontented winter
    a war to end all wars
    a king without a people 
    who wails outside the walls
    and you and i still smile
    we breathe and watch the sky

    a disconnected people
    a-waiting for the war
    a king outside in winter
    his writing’s on the wall
    and you and I still play
    the sunset lights your face

    how long can we stay here?

    but here is where you are

credits:
tjw: Russian tourist souvenir mandolin, vocals, hand drum

discontented winter

Along with the other big Original American Sin, the question of whether to
allow corporations - at all - was another topic that hung up the
Constitutional Convention for a while, with the same result - that it got
left up to the states to decide.  With (I argue) equally troublesome
results.

So this one starts with a holdout at that convention, continues with holding
out against a predatory employment agreement, and finishes with a loyalty
oath that surely is a long-irrelevant relic of the 1950s...

Lyrics:
    we’re here to sign this document, 
    a constitution covenant -
    i’m overjoyed those tyrants went -
    but let me sit and read it... 
    hm...
    some features of it that i note:
    corporations have a vote
    but slaves, the poor, and women don’t
    i thought i’d sign it - but i won’t
    (what?)

        and i said no, no thank you, i decline
        this document i will not sign 
        i think it is a poor design 
        for a free and vibrant country
        ...for a free and thriving country

    i’m glad i’m starting work today
    let’s get these forms out of the way
    a non-expiring NDA
    with non-compete forever?
    hm...
    you get the rights to all i say
    plus all my hours for every day
    why would i sign all that away?
    i think we can do better

        ...for meaningful employment
        for profit or enjoyment

        writing lines down is fine, 
        my honey and i
        like to clarify things on a page
        sometimes what we sign 
        makes us walk more in line with ourselves, 
        but sometimes 
        it’s entering a cage

    i see you’ve brought this oath to sign
    to simply pledge allegiance -
    or maybe that’s obedience - 
    but let me sit and read it...
    hm...
    i’ve underlined this passage here 
    on worshipping our leader dear
    i must admit, it seems unclear
    why democracy should need it

        and then i say no, no thank you, i decline
        some documents i will not sign
        i think it is a poor design 
        to pressure my acceptance

        ...though i don’t know where that’s left us…

Parts:
tjw: guitar, vocals, bass ukelele, synth snare drum, whistling

i will not sign

A friendly voice in a dark place.

I'd like to leave this open multiple interpretations - but the initial idea was about a conversation between Susan Sto Helit and one of her grandfather's clients, while she was filling in for him.

lyrics:

    the thing is, this life is too much for me
    i know that it’s taking the best of me
    i can sip from the glass, but can’t swim in the sea
    the waves just continue too long
    the best i can do is occasionally
    sing a song

        i have seen all that life can do
        and i know that you’ve felt it happen too
        i’m here today to help you through,
        and through

        it’s time
        it’s time
        it’s time for you

    the thing is, this habit is hard to shake
    and i know i am likely to reawake
    so what then is left here if i choose to take
    the time - and who comes along?
    the best i can do is be patient
    and try to feel strong

        i have seen all that life will do
        and i know that you carry it close to you
        but all of your dreaming is finally through
        through and through

parts:
tjw: acoustic guitar, vocals, electric guitar

it's time

A letter to my younger self.

I received a neighbor's old guitar zither sometime in grade school, and played
it in that exploratory, nothing-to-do-on-a-rainy-Saturday way for years.
I have no idea what became of it, but it seems likely my mom got rid of it.

Last year, I saw the pictured Autoharp at a local antique shop, and was
overcome by nostalgia.

The best thing about it is that the chord buttons are arranged in a more
practical grid than any accordion or concertina I've ever played.
That button arrangement led directly to this song.

Lyrically, this is a lot of lines of advice, tailored specifically to myself.

lyrics:

    listen for leaks
    hang out with freaks
    try a new habit
    and give it three weeks

    question a rift
    accept a rich gift
    don’t stay at home
    because you need a lift

    speak only truth
    know without proof
    follow your joy
    while you still have your youth

    say what you feel
    listen for real
    pay close attention 
    when you eat a meal

    play with the band
    whenever you can
    don’t pack in syllables,
    just make it scan

    make a tradition
    say you’re a musician
    love all your daydreams,
    bring some to fruition

    connect when you can
    connect with the past
    don’t take for granted
    connections will last

    love,
    your future self


parts:
tjw: Autoharp, vocals

note to self

I mean, yeah, this house is on fire. But is that new?

Lyrics:
this house has been on fire since it was built
since its foundations laid 
since it was planned
we covered up the rust and soot with gilt
but we never dug it down
below the sand

we took turns sleeping in the master bedroom
or that is how we planned it anyway
but mostly we stayed down where there's no headroom 
and prayed that we'd go up with it one day

o my darlings and my dear ones how my mind breaks
rememb'ring when you stepped into the flame 
that moment still condenses all my heart aches
that's the moment that I spoke your name

this house will stay on fire till all's consumed
and then it still will burn
on fury and on joy
and all our immolation is our doom 
and our reward for life
and finally
our joy

Credits:
tjw: acoustic guitar, vocals, cymbals on a drum pad, electric slide guitar

This song was created entirely using human intelligence; no machines did my creative work for me.

a house on fire

I perform as a solo singer-songwriter with a guitar, but also like playing with other sounds. I tend to sing about love, loss, transcendence, and the passage of time, but I like songs with humor and "show don't tell." I like (to make and hear) recordings that feel organic but not sloppy, complex but clear, intentional but serendipitous. Finished albums and some singles are for sale on Bandcamp, and available for streaming on Spotify, Apple, Amazon, etc.

timothy john weber

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