Hourglass & how it was made. "hourglass" is the 3rd, final track of the June "Yearbook" EP.
this song came together very quickly in the writing process (something i'm always grateful for!).. but it ended up being one of the hardest songs to record in the entire 36-song yearbook project! as soon as the song was finished being written, and i pressed the record button, it had 'troublemaker' written all over it. but as i listen now, i believe the struggle in recording this song is actually what makes it work. the song itself is about struggle... about coping after unimaginable loss, so i suppose it makes sense that it needed to be a challenge.
this is the first song of mine that features the harp as a main instrument. i loved the idea of having such a heartbroken song be nearly entirely carried by the most angelic and heavenly instrument there is: harp. harpists being hard to come by, i asked a few friends if they new of anyone who might be interested in recording the parts i wrote. my good friend, ryan francesconi came through and suggested his californian friend, diana rowan. i reached out and she graciously accepted the invite and headed straight to a studio in her hometown to record her gorgeous performance. the first round was absolutely gorgeous, but i had forgotten to mention a few technical requests for the harp parts. diana was kind enough to head back into the studio right away to record again from scratch, with the updated parts. a few hours later, i received the perfect and beautiful performances you hear now. i was ecstatic! real, live harp, played beautifully by someone as gifted as diana rowan... is truly a treat!
i recorded the vocals right away, but it didn't feel quite right. sometimes when songs are brand-new, it takes a day or two to really get a handle on how the song should be sung. to adjust to the tempo, cadence and overall feel of the track. most of the time, it's a very quick process to feel all snug and fitting. but, as i said, this song needed to be a struggle in every part of the recording, so it took quite a bit longer. eventually, the melody and my voice made peace and got along quite well. after finishing up the vocal, i had the foundation.
when i wrote the first few chords of this song, i knew right away this was going to be a song about being entirely broken. about the heaviness grief. i often write about this subject, but when i do, it is usually scattered supporting different themes. for "hourglass" i wanted to stay there. not just mention grief, but write entirely from the perspective of someone experiencing it fully. this is a snapshot of the moments right after loss, and right before the funeral. it's the thought process of someone wrestling with the not only the weight of such loss and grief (losing someone so dear), but also at the same time, wrestling with the strangeness of all of traditions and rituals of a funeral (dressing up, greeting cards, keeping things together and civilized.. etc.)
the final lyric is the sliver of a silver lining, of clarity:
but i once heard honest words: 'though nothing may ever be the same, the heart keeps widening for change.'
that final lyric was tough to come by, but i was rather grateful when it arrived. i wanted to write a song about grief, but at the end of such a song, i was getting worried that this song was going to collapse under the weight of all of that sadness!
after adding some layers of piano, electric guitar detailing, etc. the song was completed. it's a sad one, but i'm very proud of how it all came out. even if it was born out of struggle and grief.
love, ryan
listen:
lyrics:
HOURGLASS
we’re taking turns at shattering apart. at least we’re taking turns.
how did we get so good at dismantling these hearts? how did we ever get so good?
we dress our best to receive their sympathy. at our worst, we dress our best?
“time heals all” according to these greeting cards. oh how we’d rather time resets.
if we could turn the hourglass, we would. if we could move a grain of sand, we would. if we could find our way back, we would.
our minds keep spinning webs of question marks and of regrets. will our minds keep spinning webs?
i once heard honest words: “though nothing may ever be the same, the heart keeps widening for change.”
