Parameter: Sorry, hipsters, but for the purposes of this exercise, it should be a mainstream superhero; one that I will know about instantly. Unless, of course, in your answer you provide a brief bio of the superhero (self-written or Wikipedia only, please).
Expected response time: I will respond to the best (totally subjective) valid answer I see after work tomorrow.
Parameters: One sentence max, though you may semicolon your heart out. And be honest with the details; I can’t be the only person who had a clumsy/awkward first kiss.
Expected response time: By Monday morning.
The other night I was tapping my finger and started singing:
Well, I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )
You’re mean to my mother, and you’re worse with my friends.
I could never love a woman as cruel as you.
Well, you say such awful things to wilt my pride.
You say such awful things to make me feel dead inside.
I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )
Parameters: How would you describe a cruel lover? Give me a line or two. The lyric can be simple—in fact, should be. This recording will be very bluesy/jazzy. I may not even have my guitar.
Expected response time: Sunday night.
If you had to choose deafness or blindness, which would you choose and why? Your responses will help me shape my lyrics.
Expected response time: End of the weekend.
What does it mean to love a woman like a man (as opposed to loving like a boy)? There’s inherent confusion in this question. I do NOT mean how does one love a woman by treating her like she’s a man. I mean, how does one love a woman as a man—after one stops behaving like a boy? What bad habits as boyish lovers do we drop as we become men? What does it mean to love a woman with maturity? There are obvious benefits to this emotional aging, but is there also something lost?
I’ve already started writing the song, but I’d love to hear some strangers’ experiences. Will help with writing some of the verses.
Thanks to falling-anthem for a couple key words here: biology and manners.
Love you like a man
I ain’t a boy looking for someone to mother me;
I can stand on my own.
Ours will not be a romance of needs;
Trust me, what I want is all biology.
Baby, I will love you like a man
Baby, I will treat you the best I can
Darlin’, why don’t you give me your hand?
And I will love you like a man.
I can be strong; I’ll build us a home,
And you’ll be my cornerstone.
When we’re safe and settled,
I’ll love you like I’ve got nothing to lose (cause I don’t).
We can write the constitution to our love,
Set up all the ground rules.
I’ll give you manners and deep respect;
Just take away my blues!
Baby, I know you don’t need me,
But need, it ain’t what I want.
Just grow old with me and be my best friend;
I’ll pave us a road you’re proud to walk on.
Have you ever been betrayed by a lover? How? Your story could be the base for my next song. Thanks in advance for sharing.
(Firstly, because all of CI’s posts are devoted to someone inspirational, this special post goes to the blogger at riff94—in thanks for posting beautiful pictures—and in thanks for posting good music here.)
It wasn’t easy, but I finally got Eli sober and focused enough to record his work. This album is different. It’s not mere sound, you see. It’s a message. Eli’s lost his one true love, and his hands and head are full of songs about finding her again. I convinced him that if we recorded his work and started spreading it, then eventually she’d hear that he’s looking for her. But for this to work, we need your help. Listen to this music—but also share it. This release, this digital drop, is like a stone thrown into a pond. If you all be the ripples, eventually it will rock this lost love’s boat. So reblog these songs, tell your mother about them, and sing them in the shower—whatever it takes.
Track List (with credit to the inspiration/devotee where applicable):
Lonely and Hungry
High Striker — icameisawicame
Q & A Blues
The Kind Of Trouble I Like To Get Into — simplybek
Perfect — micxssaymwah
Broken Record Blues — recordporn and thevinylcornerblog
Hot Blooded Blues — runawaywithmetoneverland
Money — medtechema
Throat Exposed — riff94
Album Description: Eli wrote these songs and made this album because he’s trying to find the one that got away. The girl that left, the girl that left him lonely and hungry. The girl he opened up to, the one he showed his throat to. The one who met that throat with a sharp edge (a metaphorical sharp edge, of course, like the sharp edge of cruel words, and lies, and cheating; a metaphor, of course; she would never really hurt Eli.) He wants to find her and take everything back she stole from him. Or love her again. He’ll decide when he finds her. And he’ll find her with your help. If you show everyone you know these songs, and they show everyone they know, she’ll hear them eventually. And when she hears this music, she’ll know it’s Eli, she’ll know he’s looking. And she’ll come running back to him. Or she’ll run away. Either way, she’ll be running. So she’ll be tired when Eli finally finds her, unable to fight. She’ll give him back his heart. Or beg to keep it, and Eli will concede. And give her his throat again. This time for a kiss.
This is a big day for the CI project. We are thankful to those of you who have inspired us already and are excited about the inspiration to come in the future.
Clementine recorded tonight’s track in one take and sent it my way. I trust that everyone will appreciate the intimacy of the lyrics and their story as much as I did. This post is dedicated to Andrew at booksandstories for his happy, book-centric spirit. I bet he and other book lovers have experienced this moment in a coffee shop. Were any of you brave enough to talk to the stranger? — K.C.
Give Me a Minute
When we meet for the first time.
I’ll say the wrong thing,
A terrible joke,
Or nothing at all.
I might hide my face in my hands,
or turn around and leave,
pretend I forgot to turn the oven off,
or my mom’s birthday,
or how to breathe.
But if you give me a minute
to be brave,
I’ll come back.
Give me one more and
I’ll know what to do with my hands.
I’ll point to your book and say,