I don't know what to write about this song. Or rather, I know what to write but I just don't want to mess it up. I don't want to mess it up because there are so many people, people that I'm very close to, that still struggle with intense emotion and frustration when thinking about her. So in what will be a rare, and I'm sure ill-fated attempt at brevity I'll just say this: for the last 19 years, writing lyrics and songs is one of the few and simple ways I know to properly vet and work through any grief or frustration I may be experiencing. And as a bitter, self-conscious teenager who sought the approval of unhealthy kids, there was plenty of frustration and grief to ponder on. Frustration and grief that was self-manufactured or collateral damage anticipated when self destructive personalities commingle, amplify, and dismantle. Looking back over nineteen years of peaks and valleys, it feels like I've written a lot of "farewell" songs. Some painful, some welcome, but all a part of the current that has hewn who I am today. Over the years I buried some of the confusion. I used some of it as validation to neglect myself. But in the end, I learned to see each and every instance as the outcome to a set of decisions decided upon by an autonomous and free-thinking soul. This felt logical. This felt safe. This got me to sleep.
And then there was Lydia. And it felt different. Honestly, it's never felt the same. Which is strange because it all keeps moving forward, productive and efficient. Like the machine is working but something has warped, affecting the product ever so slightly. Perhaps it's because I admired her. Perhaps it's because I was scared of her. Perhaps it's because I love her big brother like my own blood. And I won't reiterate or pace the details. Fact is, if you're reading this, you know. It affected you and there's no need to dwell on it.
Being in a band at the time of her passing, I wrote as I always do. We, SPELLS, wrote. And we were, and still are, happy with what came out. It went into our set list and it does well at shows. Then the days to record came. We polished and prepared our new batch to release. It's just that putting it on an album and making money off it feels wrong. I don't know why. It shouldn't, right? That's what you do as a musician or comic or painter. You draw from life. This IS part of life. But I couldn't shake it. So what to do? In the end we decided it best to just give the song away and let you dictate what happens next. Beside the link is the option, and it is exactly that, an option to pay whatever you would like for the track. Pay nothing, pay a thousand dollars, that's your choice. But should you choose to contribute, any and all monies received will go to the Lydia Ann Fund, a memorial fund started in her name that divides proceeds between three animal causes she passionately supported. Maybe this will keep the pendulum swinging. We hope you all enjoy it. Be good to each other. Oh, and go on vacation for fuck's sake.