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about
My family and I attended the 10am Mass at St. Raphael's every Sunday when I was a child. "Our" seats were on the left, and towards the front, if you were looking at the altar. I always held the aisle. After taking communion, a Catholic is supposed to kneel in prayerful contemplation until everyone has had their turn. Prostrating, I clasped my hands and bowed my head low so no one would notice my open eyes. Each week, dozens of congregants filed past me to and from the Eucharist. I stared at their shoes and pretended to pray. This was the game: register every small detail of the shoes, all at once, in the second it took the pair to cross my peripheral window. I'd log style, brand, color, material, and condition and render a judgment of "cool" or "not cool" before the shoes were out of sight, all while keeping my posture devout.
Tiny details can sweep me off my feet and take me to other planets, if I let them. As I got older, my tendency to be mentally elsewhere strained my relationships. I didn't like disappointing people that cared about me, but the thought of not being swept away felt claustrophobic and dismal. I wrote "Don't Give Me A Pet" in 2013 when I felt unbalanced, chaotic, and liable to end up on another planet in the blink of an eye.
lyrics
Don’t give me a pet, I’ll kill it.
Don’t give me a pet, I’ll kill it.
I’ll kill it by accident.
An accident of inattention.
I’ll soak up the faces of a thousand strangers.
For all the hours days have I’ll soak up their faces.
And their shoes.
I like watching shoes.
Don’t make a date with me, I’ll miss it.
Don’t make a date with me, I’ll break it.
I’ll break it by accident.
An accident of inattention.
And yet…
I sweat right through the mattress recalling what happened
To the squirrel who ditched the sidewalk for to try his hand at traffic.
An accident of inattention.
But the crow picking his eyeball is attentive as can be.
Here I sit some asshole who can’t remember to breathe.
Or how to get to work on time. Did I set my alarm?
How did I get to work on time? Did I set my alarm?
Soaking up the faces of a thousand strangers.
For all the hours days have I soak up their faces.
Sweat right through the mattress recalling what happened.
Soaking up the faces of a thousand strangers.
Soaking up the faces of a thousand strangers.
Sweat right through the mattress recalling what happened.
credits
released January 18, 2022
Vocals - Owen FitzGerald
Guitars - Owen FitzGerald
Bass - Owen FitzGerald
Drums - John Howie Jr.
Recorded by Saman Khoujinian
Mixed by Saman Khoujinian & Ryan Johnson
Final Mixes by Saman Khoujinian & Owen FitzGerald
Mastered by Saman Khoujinian
Distributed by Sleepy Cat Records
Cover art photographer - Shannon Kelly
Cover art concept - Owen FItzGerald
Cover art design - Owen FitzGerald, Anna Grace FitzGerald, Gabe Anderson
Photos by Shannon Kelly
Produced by Owen FitzGerald
The latest from Jim Lauderdale is exclusive to Bandcamp, its songs drawing on bluegrass, country, and classic American music. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 28, 2020
