Listen to the Song, “The Sound of the Word,” here.
Some songs that I write, I don’t care what anybody thinks about them. Those are the ones I write for myself. Because I need them. They usually undergo the least amount of editing. I kind of let them be what they are. A little… imperfect.
It’s a nice, rare, state to be in: sitting there with the page, giving space to connect with an emotion. What flows out of the pen I try not to judge. Thoughts like, “That doesn’t make any sense,” or, “What am I trying to say here,” I do my best to shush away. And when there are enough words on the page to merit picking up a guitar, I’ll let my fingers take control. I’ll feel out a few chord shapes, and make sounds that reflect the tenor of the words in front of me. It’s a gentle process. Not fraught with expectation. Like a flower opening.
That is how “The Sound of the Word” was written. They don’t all happen like that. But this one did. It was a surprise to me that it became the title track of the album. It was the quiet underdog. And if I’m honest, it turned out to be my favorite track of the collection. The song is my peaceful island.
The most difficult thing about singing it for people has been reckoning with the amount of stillness in the song. In the recording there’s this lush interaction between the melodic guitar and the piano that keeps the musical narrative going. In live performances however, it’s just me playing chords, bare and exposed. All of my focus is directed toward moving the song forward. In the time I’ve been playing it out for audiences, I’ve been working on leaning into the stillness—to relish the emptiness, and to allow space for the audience to join in there with me. It’s so incredibly enjoyable when it all clicks.
If I’m to step back and look at the song, I find that The Sound of The Word is about listening, and recognizing that what we say and how we say it has real effect in our lives. It’s about an awareness of intentionality: was something said unconsciously, or with purpose? Was it said passively or with every fibre of one’s being?
And it’s about choices. I find that just the sound of the word, “Yes” tends to open the heart. Whereas, the sound of the word “No,” feels like a shutting-down. Likewise, do we choose to observe fear, or to be consumed by it? (That’s a tough one) Where is the line between being connected to people and needing to be protected from them? Do we choose to say out-loud what is wrong with a situation, or do we hold our tongue and let the moment pass—again and again.
These are difficult choices now especially because we are being forced to make them on a daily basis and they are stressing out our nervous systems. I think most of us recognize that we are at a pivotal point in time where the survival of our democracy, our country, our planet, and our species, is all in question. I think that’s where this song is useful—for me at least. I can sing it, calm myself down, affirm my choices, and recognize my better self through the song.
I present it here, so that it might help bring a little more awareness, or comfort, or whatever you need, into your day.
The Sound of the Word What do you do when they just say, No They say No all the time Maybe they just like the sound of the word And the power it implies What can we do but just say, Yes And say Yes all of the time I know that I like the sound of the word And the joy that it implies We’re out of the pan and into the fire It’s what you do, when you choose to go higher I’ve got no use for your fear But I see it everyday I’ve got no need for greed or for speed But it finds me out that way I gotta be moved I gotta feel And keep connected somehow We gotta be strong by saying what’s wrong And say it on the mainline now I think we can pull out of this dive It’s what you do, when you choose to survive We’re out of the pan and into the fire Falling from the tightrope wire
