"Atlantic, The Sea of Atlas" & how it was made.

“atlantic, the sea of atlas” is the 25th & 26th song in the yearbook series, as the opening 2 tracks of the “june” ep. so although "atlantic," and "the sea of atlas" are technically 2 songs, they were written as one, broken into halves. the first half "atlantic," is an instrumental piece (continuing the instrumental ocean series that was started with "pacific") and "the sea of atlas" is the more lively, vocalized counterpart. so i'm going to write this blog post about both pieces. cool?

pt. 1 "Atlantic,"

about 44 seconds in, there's a piano bit that happens - that piano part is really the foundation of the entire piece (songs 1 & 2) and everything else was layered on top of that small piece of music. it's actually a piano idea that i wrote and demoed many many years ago. in those older versions it never quite fully developed. right around the time i was writing for the "june," ep i stumbled upon those old, failed demos of that piano idea and decided to see where i could take it now, after all these years. i had assumed that it would lead me down a similarly failed path as before, so i wasn't holding my breath that it would turn into much. just thought it might be fun to mess with. to my surprise, a few hours of playing around with it, i felt like i turned a key and uncovered all sorts of new directions and ideas for it. so not only did it end up working to revive this idea, but i felt like it needed to span over 2 tracks. it was a pleasant surprise to say the least. (usually, if an idea doesn't work, or come close to working after spending a TON of time on it, it's because the idea isn't great, or least isn't a right right. so, i was shocked that i hadn't found these directions many years back.)

after playing around with those new directions, i decided that i wanted to make the first half (song 1) a gentler, moodier instrumental, using the choruses bits (the piano part i mentioned above) as the nod to what's to come in song 2 (halve 2). after i wrote the final full arrangement (both halves), i finally had my foundation built and began to layer and layer and layer.

(sidenote: just like in the track "pacific" ... i tried to write all of the melodies mimicking waves and the movement of the ocean - melodies that sway a bit. enjoyed writing with that idea in my head.)

soon after, i reached out to my friend and incredible violinist, laura musten (who recorded strings for several yearbook songs!) and asked if she'd want to be a part of this song. i sent her some ideas and she sent me back these brilliant performances (layering her violins) and misc. parts and it was perfect. i put the string pieces together, shaping each of the string parts to the song structure and it all fit together like... bread and butter? or maybe like cinderella's slipper? like something that fit really well.-

while laura was recording her parts/ideas in nashville (using only garageband and a small usb mic!), i wrote a cello line that i asked my good pal, jeremy larson to record/perform. he was kind enough to get right to it and did a fantastic job as usual. (i expect nothing less of jeremy.. he's one of my favorite musicians!) - right around the same time, both jeremy and laura sent me the recorded string parts and i was so excited with how it all fit together. couldn't have hoped for better.
listen: (never mind the creepy mannequin... just found this youtube link as an easy way to post the track! close your eyes!)

pt. 2 "The Sea of Atlas"

musically part 2, started to take shape with that banjo bit that starts it off. it directed the energy, which is exactly what i was hoping it would do. that banjo was purchased a few weeks before i wrote this, at a lovely music shop in seattle. it's a mini "gold tone" banjo and it's super fun to play. i was really pleased with how it turned out on recording - especially since this was the first song to feature it. you never know how an instrument will translate on recording. thankfully it fit right into the track.

the last musical bits that were added were drums, performed by aaron mortenson and bass by my good pal, dan perdue. i'd say this track has my favorite rythem section of "yearbook." love how the tones fit into the mix and love the energy and weight both bass and drums add to the overall picture.

the lyrics for this song came together fairly smoothly, if i'm remembering correctly. i wanted to write a song about want vs. need. the line that defines this most:

there’s a fine line, a fine line in between our progress and our instability. we can’t help ourselves but hunt for more. a design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore- the catalyst we’ve waited for.

so the song explores both paths, crossing the wires of want and need and seeing the positives and negatives of both, which greatly affect our faith, absence of faith and our general daily lives. in every area of my life, a theme has been surfacing over the last year... "balance." that word has become a bit of an accidental obsession for me... i hear it in every area of my life, whenever i'm thinking through ways to fix things. so in a way, this song marks the beginning of me noticing the importance of balance, in relation to faith, fear, want, need, age, etc. this song operates as a scale in a lot of ways - tipping back and fourth constantly as i hunt for balance.

(side note: for a while, i'm not at all sure why, i've wanted to try to fit in the word "connoisseur" in a song. seriously i don't know why. but i was pleased when i was able the find a home for it in this song... even managed to squeeze in "vocabularies"! in your face, 5-syllable word!):

"we once felt safe, like no cure was needed. our vocabularies had no room for “defeated,” but we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it."

thanks for reading!

love, ryan

listen:

lyrics:

THE SEA OF ATLAS

through wires and waves, our voices carry. such careful words that we can barely speak out loud. we found an ocean when we needed land. we drowned in words when we needed a hand. so we plead for night, and the sun keeps on spilling light.

there’s a fine line, a fine line in between our progress and our instability. we can’t help ourselves but hunt for more. a design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore- the catalyst we’ve waited for.

we live and die under the thumb of fear, as though the finish line will merely disappear if we take one less step, even to catch our breath.

we once felt safe, like no cure was needed. our vocabularies had no room for “defeated,” but we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it.

there’s a fine line, a fine line in between our progress and our instability. we can’t help ourselves but hunt for more. a design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore- the catalyst we’ve waited for.