Life Is Meaningless

“In the place of judgment— wickedness was there, 
in the place of justice— wickedness was there…
I saw the tears of the oppressed— and they have no comforter; 
power was on the side of their oppressors—
and they have no comforter…
all labor and all achievement spring from man’s envy of his neighbor.
This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” – Ecclesiastes 3:16; 4:1; 4:4

The journey in creating “A Road Most Traveled” began with the writing of “Life is Meaningless”. I had just spent a few months wrestling through the words found in the book of Ecclesiastes. Within Solomon’s prose and poetry, I saw humanity’s struggle for meaning and purpose. I saw an honesty towards desperation that I had experienced within my own life, and I wanted to expresses it through music, the same way Solomon expressed it through his medium. I realized quickly that I could not encapsulate into one song all that Solomon was addressing, all the areas where I personally felt empty, all the injustice our world was currently witnessing, all the hopelessness certain friends were sharing with me, all the ways in which the day to day of our lives seemed futile… 

Nevertheless, I sat down one night and started with these words:

“Unending, beginning, and I can’t break this on my own…
Dead cycle, recycled, fast approaching no one home…and I do this all alone”. 

I knew even as I penned the words, I was taking on something much larger than a simple song, or even one album, could contain: 

“Work and toil, or let it spoil, it all seems to be the same…
Do it right, do it wrong, we all seem to play this game…good old fortune and fame” 

I knew that I had to write from my own experience; from my own heart, yet even as I wrote I felt a need to voice the confusion, the uncertainty, expressed not only within the book but also from individuals and communities that I had interacted with over the previous few years. 

“Meaningless, when I awoke this morning…there’s a shadow in my heart…
Purposeless, stuck in the dull machine of life…is there nowhere we can go?”

As I wrote, I felt uneasy. I didn’t want to write a hopeless song when there was so much within our world that seemed hopeful. I didn’t want to package meaninglessness as the only answer to “why am I here?” However, I didn’t want to wrap the song up in a bow, selling a happy ending as fake as our airbrushed lives on social media. I didn’t want to resolve the journey by telling people I had their answer to happiness; because...well, that’s not reality. And that’s not how Ecclesiastes ends. How do I give an honest voice to desperation and doubt, and how do I give space for them within our current liturgy of buying contentment and hacking ours lives towards happiness? 
    I knew as many of us do, that the rhythms we engage in daily actually sap life out of us. Yet we continue to engage in them as if they will eventually lead to a more fulfilled life. 
What is the better story? Is there one? What if this is the only narrative? 

“I’m drowning, slogans pounding, making what’s left of me feel numb…
If it’s progress, I still regress, all for the benefit of some…No I cannot hold my tongue...
Caught in a snare, trapped in a net…No way out of evil times…
We are oppressed, yet we still oppress…all with envy we live this lie! There’s no reason and no rhyme!!”

As I wrote, I knew that I had to engage deeper in these questions, and as I engaged I would continue to write. That first night, five years ago now, launched a vision that far surpassed one song, one album, or one individual.

Is there a narrative that gives room for, and a resolve to, the refrain:

“Meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless…
Meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless
In the place of judgment…Wickedness!
In the place of justice…Wickedness!!”

---

EVOLUTION OF A SONG    

In the period I wrote the lyrics to “Life Is Meaningless” I was listening to a lot of gypsy jazz (i.e. Django Reinhardt). I had taken a guitar lesson from Paul “Pazzo” Mehling, leader of The Hot Club of San Francisco, and started experimenting with combining my own influences with a touch of gypsy jazz. Fortunately, “Life is Meaningless” was my first attempt…unfortunately; “Life is Meaningless” was my first attempt…I definitely have learned much since then, but I am thankful for what did come out in the recording. 
    During the infant stage of “Life is Meaningless”, Ken Whitney (co-writer and co-producer) came on board and began to help clarify vision for both the song and the album. From this point forward, all lyrics we wrote with a “storyboard” approach, which gave the album a visual aspect, not only helping our writing process, but may still come in handy if we ever do translate the album to stage. 

Below is a spliced together audio track, in order to see the progression of the song:

1. My first little recording done in Garageband in order to get the concept down. Most of my personal recordings are done after Cathy and I put our boys down, hence the whisper of my voice.
2. The second take was done while hanging out with a few friends on a very hot July night in 2010. Ken is pounding away on djembe. This was the first time we used percussion as well as additional vocals. 
3. The third take is of me messing with guitar solos. Originally, I wanted to whole song to maintain an acoustic feel with a very gypsy jazz-like arrangement. However, as the album progressed we decided to take another route. Tyler Gomez’s final decision (see “Final Edit”) could not have been better!
4. This take was the first time the whole band played the song together. We added in the piano, and greatly changed the dynamic and arrangement of the song during this first rehearsal. 
5. The last take is also shown in the video below. When advertising for our Kickstarter launch concert, we arranged a short version of the song for social media. By this time, the arrangement was for a full band, but for the video, I thought we could return to the songs gypsy jazz roots. I had Sarah play banjo, and we brought Eric Golub in for the very first time. What resulted is one of my favorite versions of the song, and subsequently what brought Eric and the banjo in as permanent players in both the song and the band. 

Here is the video we used to advertise out Kickstarter launch show (created by Nico Chavez and Nathaniel Kohfield):

The final version of the song you will see below. We chose to start the album with "Life is Meaningless", as a sort of anthem for the narrative the listener would be entering into. We also decided to be intentional with Sarah's vocals for the album. Just as the voice of wisdom is calling the reader back home in Ecclesiastes, we chose to cast Sarah as the voice of wisdom throughout the entire album. As the album starts out, and the listener ("everyman") enters into the metaphorical city (or rhythm), the voice of wisdom is present. However, as the song progresses, and as the listener spends more time in the "city" the voice of wisdom fades (as you'll hear Sarah's voice fade). Sarah's voice does not return until the 6th song on the album "The Water's Edge". 

For your listening pleasure the final edit to "Life is Meaningless" off our first album "A Road Most Traveled": 

© 2015 Smalltown Society

Anthem of Success

The sun arrives begins the script
Past childhood dreams and into this
The clock it sings a routine chime
The people march in perfect time

The busyness soon starts to fade
And so begins the masquerade
The chairs turn round and round and round
The tapping keys, the clicks, the sounds

Plant your feet, grab a seat
Your bank account is incomplete
Pay the rent, Buy the boat
Family vacation, take the loan
Dress to impress, now get the raise
It’s what you want so run the maze
The mundane builds intensity
The water cooler symphony

Dress for success, dress to impress
Remember the customer is #1
Keep those Cubicles clean, be part of our team
--This-is- how good businesses are run
Set your standards high, and let the money fly
Your Hard work and profit are inseparable
Simply working 9-5, see all those dreams come alive
It’s your world, now take control

Reasoning begins to die
The humdrum sound is amplified
Your debt it builds with every check
A colored-collar around your neck
You post it up, you white it out
This church of work: become devout
Four tiny walls and one big room
Your lives are now one collective tomb

Dress for success, dress to impress
The customers is #1
Cubicles clean, part of the team
This-is- how good businesses are run
Set your standards high, let the money fly
Hard work and cash inseparable
Serve 9-5, you feel alive
It’s your world, now take control

© 2015 Smalltown Society

The Floor

I feel a silence in my step
There is a shadow where I’ve crept
There is a pain
I can’t explain
On this road
There is a beat that’s out of time
Sometimes no rhythm to my rhyme
There’s something dark inside this heart
It needs to go...

There is a noise so deep within
That often tells me I cannot win
There is a sound that comes around
When I’m alone
Because of this, I’m always climbing
And when I stop I lose my timing
The more I doubt the more I’m out
And overthrown

© 2015 Smalltown Society

The Condition

© 2015 Smalltown Society

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Natural Selection

“Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy.” - Wendell Berry

Don’t tell me where the line is
I-know I Want more
These things I see I need a desire that I can’t ignore
Don’t stand in my way!
I want more!!

You think you’ve got it all here
I know I’ve got more
Through blood sweat and fears I’m better than I was before
I’ve paid my way!
I want more!!

There’s never enough time left
I know I need more
Every second that you speak are moments that I can’t restore
They waste away
I want more!

I’ll take what I can get from you
I am More
Just a step to take me further through this open door
You have no say
I want more!

I’ll fight for my place in life-
This is war
The lives who stand against me lie sprawled across the threshing floor
It will go my way!
I will have more!

© 2015 Smalltown Society

The Water's Edge

Below is the short story "At the Water's Edge" written by our dear friend Sami Neagu. This short story inspired us to write the song of the same title. 

I am thankful for this story, for writing the song with Sami, and for his friendship!

At the Water’s Edge (a journey to sobriety)

There is a cold wind biting at my face, there at the water’s edge.

The rocks beneath me are unstable. They shake as I adjust my feet in uncertainty. 

I am afraid of the journey, though a raft floats close to the shore. Will it hold me? Is it strong enough?

The land behind is desolate. I have lived there many years, grabbing at objects of dust, collecting incessantly in my obsession. I have no nourishment. Though I fill my stomach with the rotten fruit of the barren land, I am empty. 

The starved are all around me. We strive to collect more and more dust. We revel in it, realizing not that we are rolling around in the staining dirt, and that our faces and hands are soiled, our grins contrived, and our bodies shriveled and useless.

There is a sea before me, and there floats the raft, at the water’s edge. 

I am afraid to wade into the water to reach the raft, for all the dust I have fought, scrapped, and struggled to gain will be washed away. All I know will be gone once I climb that raft. 

So I stand there, ready to turn around, there at the water’s edge .

I look behind me and the land, and dust, and dead fruit all call to me. And I reach a moment of immense struggle. 

And then a breeze blows softly across the water, as the raft bobs slightly in the calm sea, and I smell the fresh aroma that comes from beyond the water’s edge. 

For that instant, the putrid stink of the land is gone, and I am awed by a brief moment of sanity, of clarity.

So I close my eyes, and take my first step of faith into the sea from the water’s edge, and I see the dust wash away from my foot, cleansing my toes as I wiggle them in wonder. 

Then my other foot goes in and soon I am wadding, then quickly swimming through the quiet waters, leaving a trail of dust behind that soon disappears beneath the surface and is gone, forever. 

I reach the raft and there is a hand there to pull me up. And I look about me and see that it is no raft at all but a giant arc floating on that still water, and there are faces all around me, with not a spot of dust upon their completion.

I look back to see that water’s edge, and the land beyond, now seeming so dead and insignificant, and I smile, my first genuine smile, free from dust and full of joy. 

There is a water’s edge that many reach, and see the raft that bobs slightly in the distance, and they turn away, back to the dust, to the rotten fruit that does not fill, and I watch them, with tears and compassion. 

And I realize that we can bring anyone to the water’s edge but we cannot push them in. Every person must choose to swim for the raft, or die in the dust. 

There is a water’s edge, where many come, but few enter. But the raft still floats there in the freshness of the breeze, waiting patiently. 

Samuel Neagu ©2011. 

---

This always goes to hell
The dust collecting on my brow
We’re starved for nourishment
We fill and it
Begins a--gain, we revel in
the staining dirt
Our grins contrived
Broken hearts tonight

I stand at the water’s edge
Crowded with fear of what’s ahead
Before me death behind the end
I break inside
These steps begin,
I enter in
The dust runs clear
Uncertain lies the path
Of this broken heart tonight

Ankle deep a vessel seen
To cross the span I have to fall
A sudden breeze senses clear I grasp for hope
Cleanse me, wash me, swim this mystery

Hands outstretched I reach for life
Hands outstretched I’m lifted up
Pure faces ...joy resides
Begin to open our eyes
I’ll Re---turn for Broken hearts tonight

© 2015 Smalltown Society

My Father's Son

Lonely nights
It’s hard to be right
Following after you
Your footsteps fade
But the ones I’ve made
Make them look brand new
Empty sounds
In answers found
To make this life seem clear
Running round
Reaching out
To the man who wasn’t there

It’s so hard
To be what you’re not
I’ve tried so long
To be my father’s son

Blind fists fly
All emotions die
But the anger that swells within
The things I own
Keep me alone
But lift me up among all men
Beauty comes
Women go
I seek and I devour
Here I am
Who am I?
In this desperate hour

It’s so hard
To be what you’re not
I’ve tried so long
To be my father’s son

I’m crying out, striving to reach your hand, guide me, show me how I should live.

Wisdom: Turn from evil ways and seek the truth, God has promised He will carry you, do not seek the path that leads to death, listen to my voice and heed my cry

© 2015 Smalltown Society

Song for the Unnamed

Hold life
The beating sound
There’s hope all around
The way; this time begins
Your words so sweet
Though the lines don’t meet
You stand, we walk, you run

------
These times
You learn
You fight you, you yearn
These things you’ll know when you’re grown
There’s love, there’s loss
There’s pain to bear
I’ll listen, I’m there, You’ll change the world.

------
You may find the one
And the love that has become
Together you’ll stand, you’ll walk you’ll run
The foundation that’s been made
You’ll build upon what’s been laid
You’ll hold, you’ll teach; your home

Precious, my love
You’re everything, complete
Your path, your life...your heart never beat


© 2015 Smalltown Society

Orphan Song

Gather 'round children
A tale to tell
A prince to a popper to king
A curious young prince
Thrown out of his kingdom
Stripped of his title and ring
(what was his crime?)
Wanting what only his father could give
(what became of this man?)
An outcast, fugitive, never a chance to live

The prince so he wandered so sad and so lonely Looking for others like him
Like a lion, a king
He prowled and he feasted
Finding his strength from within
(Did his father come seeking?)
The prince was abandoned like you
(What can we do?)
Never look back, it only gets better - follow me into the light and you'll see!

You don't need a mother
You don't need a father
You don't need a family- you're king!
Orphans unite, come find your acceptance,
Your freedom, your right, come sing

My father’s out drinking
My mother is ill
I am the ghost they don’t see
Left out in the cold
No one to turn to
Will the family I want ever be?
(What twas your crime?)
Wanting what others receive
(What should you do?)
Search for a family, I know a homes out there, we know in our hearts it’s there, we believe!!

You don't need a mother
You don't need a father
You don't need a family- you’re chance!
Orphan’s unite come find your acceptance,
Your freedom, your right, come dance!


No, don’t go
Hold back your feet from this path
Know, my love
A voice that is true amidst the wrath

I am is I Am
The Father of truth,
the one who gives us life Abaddon
How long will you continue to deceive?!

Come with me and I will give you eyes to see
Shadow me and you’ll become like God
Taste the fruit you surely will not die
Gather together and follow me into the light!!

Our mothers can’t help us
We hate all our fathers
All orphan’s at heart don’t you see...
All on our own, we make our own choices

No matter your plight or your plea!!!
 

Never look back,
We know a homes out there,
You know you’re alone now,
No matter our plight or our plea!!!

© 2015 Smalltown Society

Traffik

Two men at the doorstep
See eyes so full of light
Their lips give prospect
Of a better life
Family’s got no money
Offer seems so right
Hope for a better future
Will give them rest tonight

Papers exchange hands
As the doors they close behind
Into foreign lands
A darkness she will find
“Now you owe me money
Darling, you owe me your very life
Don’t ever think of running
You’ll lay with them tonight!”

(and she says):
Someone get me I’m lost and empty
That hands that grip me
Are void of love
The nights unending
Will this ever end?
I’m so alone!!

Locked inside her room
Where ‘lovers’ come all day
Her innocence forgotten
Only good for a quick lay
The bruises that she covers
Won’t protect her from the pain
Out of anger, fear, frustration
They do it all the same.

Desperate for escape
Don’t care about the risks
Either through in open window
Or the slitting of her wrists
The harder that she tries
They pull her back for more
For money or cheap pleasure
She remains to them a whore

(And she cries):
Someone get me I’m lost and empty
That hands that grip me
Are void of love
The nights unending
Will this ever end?
I’m so alone!!

(>)Years through wealthy nations
From sea to shining sea
The freedom that she’ll witness
Only good for you and me
Nowhere to be found
That family that she loved
Her tears are all for nothing
To the faces seen above

(And she screams):
Has no one seen me?
A life left empty
The hands that rape me
Are sons of yours
If someone wants me
And not for sex and money
Why won’t you touch me
Like once before
My stories ending
Lift my burden now
Please...
Take...
Me...
Home...

Stop her selling
Stop her buying
Stop the raping
End this slavery!!
Stop my selling
Stop my buying
Stop my raping
End my slavery!!

© 2015 Smalltown Society

Mataput

We are people striving to survive
With different motives to keep ourselves alive
With shared interests we villianize the rest
We try and tell ourselves it all for the best

We’re distracted by always being right
Our eyes too sensitive to stare into the light
Wealth and ego won’t let us pass the test:
Life over death or stuff over breath?

The grass is dry here
The blood stains on our hearts
Our guns and ammunition
Won’t go where we depart

Under liberty we prop up all that’s wrong
We sit, listen, and then we sing along
Façade of action complacency by name
We fight and slaughter with much less to proclaim

Would you feed the child in the street?
Would clothe the forgotten and the beat?
Would you stand up and leave behind your pride?
Or does your freedom let you run and hide?

This war must find its end
Our choice be resolute
Will we stand down
And drink the bitter root

Love your neighbor, serve him as your own
Fight desires that keep us all alone
Keep on killing, looking to devour
Understand me, We won’t be here no more
Understand me, We won’t be here no more

© 2015 Smalltown Society

Children of the Atomic Age

Light up your torches
Join our rebellion, it’s time
March to our anthem
Choose your own reason & rhyme
Bring your obsessions
All that consumes you, your life
 ‘La Dolce Vita’ ignite

Look on the inside
See all that makes you feel whole
Power, possessions,
Your money, acceptance, your soul
Fall into order
See your desires fulfilled
There’s ‘walls of purpose’ to build

To slave
To make it our own
Join the parade
Together alone
We slave
To be known
Be what you’ve made
Join the parade!

Cold.
Our fettered souls.
Overwhelmed and enslaved by the things that we value and hold.
We drown.
It’s all too much.
Too little in genuine meaning, we’re numb to its touch.
Let go.
Of the things we learn.
We lift up one burden to carry ‘the great’ in return
No surrender...we cope.
Holding on to the things that we want till it strangles our hope.
We live???

© 2015 Smalltown Society

The Hinge

Wake me up
This day is over now
I’ve lost the will somehow
To understand...
No words to write
No answers to recite
All I know is life
In you somehow....

I can’t begin to know this
Which way the wind has blown us
We need a hand to guide us through
We've got to...

Stand down and say
We’ve lost our way
White flags in hand
We’ve gone astray
We need a light
To lead us home

Wake me up
The sun is rising now
I’ve found the will somehow
To move ahead
You I know
Will always stay so close
Deep inside there’s hope
That you’re around

I’m still whispering
The words of truth
I’m still whispering
These things to you...

© 2015 Smalltown Society

Stand Fast

Mud in my eyes
For the first time
I can see it
Freedom and love
Sweeping me under its wave
A life set on fire
And a heart for the things that are worthy
The Wretched me gone
Throwin’ em into the grave

The battle lines drawn
Face to face with
This pure darkness
Hollow red eyes
Staring straight into to my soul
Hatred in hand
Oppression flows through its veins
A vicious black heart
Beats from the depths of Sheol

Though I am weak, I will stand fast
This life that’s been saved,
Won’t be the last
Oh death! Bring what you will
In the midst of Your storm
I remain still

Wrapped up in chains
With a tongue to accuse
Holds the stain of my sins, chants the law to confuse
With a drive to devour
He rushes to kill
Though beaten and bruised, by my faith I am still
He wields the curse
Of sickness and pain
Though I’m covered in blood, in this hope I remain:
No longer his captive
On this truth I dwell
He knows his name is defeated, his future is hell!!!

© 2015 Smalltown Society

I am Lost

---

I am lost
Inside a wilderness
Oh these days have been so dry in this desert where I lie
And this is it

I’ve let go
Of all the things I’ve known
And this is not my choice I’ve only lost my voice
And where to go

Can you see me
Hiding here?
Can you lead me
Once again?

Like a child I have come
To your table only looking for some crumbs
No more knowledge, wealth, or power, no more strength to hear our
Beating of the drums

Where has
All the truth gone?!
“Meaningless just meaningless, everything is futile”
Is our­ song

Can you see me
Hiding here?
Can you lead me
Once again?

Easy
It used to be so easy
I stuck my flag in confidence when what I really needed
Was the Truth

Oh and now
I’m so confused
Cause every pathway builds a structure and in the end the truth
It will refuse

Freedom
Everyone wants liberty
But as we break the chains of meaning we find ourselves
In new captivity

Answers
I haven’t anymore
So I’m laying myself bare, stripped of every mask, and walking out the door…

© 2015 Smalltown Society

A Song Called Liberty

Looking for freedom, Looking for home but we’re lost
Looking for answers,
But our fear of dying stops us from bearing the cost
We want our free will, we want our rights
But something or someone has turned off the lights
Can we confess that this is not liberty?
We are bound to religion, bound to deny,
Bound to our egos, oh it’s such a lie
Brothers and sisters this is not liberty

Captive to power, Captive to pride but we’re scared
We carry our masks, to hide all our weakness, resulting in visions impaired
Independence is fleeting choice is on trial,
If you’re not at fault oh you’re in denial
We must resign: this is not liberty
Our hearts always beating, the clock never slows
We share in a burden, we carry this load
We have to declare this is NOT liberty

We’ll kill for opinions,
Slaughter to preserve our wealth
We’ll die for our causes
But each inch of progress we struggle to die to ourselves
We can’t say we’re wrong but each time we do
There’s a light in the tunnel for me and for you
This glimmer we witness is the fragrance of liberty
Some say there’s freedom in law, others freedom in chaos
But soon we’ll discover that both have betrayed us
Their treason can lead us all to liberty

There’s strength in our weakness,
No need to despair
Though confidence passes,
So does our fear
We don’t have all answers,
We won’t own it all
There are not enough boxes, and no truth too small
All Generations come join our song, LIBERTY...

There’s a place where the weak
The weary and burdened find rest
A cross to be carried, pride to be buried, exposing the hole in our chest
There’s a hand that’s outstretched in the mud and the mire
Reach out and grab it then come join the choir
Drop all your nets, come join the song liberty
The misplaced find Justice, mercy, compassion and love
A home for the broken, Hope for the helpless, the battle that’s already won
While our cisterns were damaged, and all hope seemed lost
He carried our burdens and he bore the cost
And through his sorrow we can know liberty
No longer shackled to judgment or bound to our fears,
We rejoice in our trials, as the veil disappears
It is for freedom that he gave us all liberty!!

He says:
Blessed are the poor,
For theirs is the kingdom of God
Blessed are the mourners for they will find comfort, their relief is already bought Blessed are the meek for they will inherit
Let those who are hungry and thirsty declare it
They will be filled with justice and liberty
Blessed are those who give mercy for they shall receive
The pure and the peaceful, for God they shall see,
Though loathed and detested, this is our liberty

He’s strong through our weakness
His Love is humble and raw
In Him there is no oppression,
No evil, darkness, nor flaw
While our plans are fleeting,
His stand for all time
His yoke is so simple, his burden is kind...
Though we lack understanding, have much we don’t know
The chorus repeating: to whom else would we go?
All generations come join His song: Liberty!!

There’s a table prepared
For all who are hungry, it’s free
No one’s excluded no matter your label or history
Like a beggar I’ve come with this bread I have found
Not having all answers but no longer bound
You who are loved, this is our liberty...

© 2015 Smalltown Society