I wrote this one on a barstool after a conversation over text messages about the cosmic moon. There was a big moon out on this night and I was alone in suburban reaches of the Pacific Northwest. I’d been listening to Leonard Cohen’s Old Ideas a lot, driving a rented car through the ominous green of Seattle in October.
Mukilteo is a ferry port, with foghorns and seals outside the window. The scenery of the bar hung like portraits of a somber mood. Little longings get big in places like this, thus the song.
I ended up playing this one out one night without having written the chords down. I nailed the song, I think, but I couldn’t tell if anyone knew what to make of it so I kind of dropped it from the set. When I tried to pick it up again, I’d forgotten the melody. Every time I tried to remember it I couldn’t think of the first chord.
Just today I found it recorded on my phone, I had no idea it was there. I’d figured that song was long gone into the ether where it came from. But there it was in voice record memo format. So I thought I’d send it out in all its lo-fi, lo-practiced glory: the recording from when I wrote the song called (for now) From a Bar in Mukilteo. My cosmic moon friend called it, “a blessing to the iPhone deities,” which I now share with you.
Let me know what you think, I’d love any feedback on: “Good direction? Keep playing it out?” You can shoot me an email to firstname.lastname@example.org if you’d like.