Skip forward in this vid to “Andrea’s Song”
This was filmed last year right before I moved to Nashville. So the first part of the video is my usual “blah blah blah” of my vlogs, but the second half is a live performance of “Andrea’s Song” in which she gets onstage and sings.
Andrea
Sometimes, when you least expect it, life drops something terrible in your lap. Sadly, what happened this weekend to my dear friend Andrea Ownbey, felt less like a surprise than it should have. I’m writing this blog to update my friends and fans that also happen to be her friends and fans.
For those of you who don’t know, Andrea Brooke Ownbey has been the reigning Miss Howard Stern on the Howard Stern Show for years now. I think she had over 65 appearances on the show last time I checked. If you knew that, then you also know, my girl is crazy. She even has ‘crazy beautiful’ tattooed on her foot. She lives life in the fast lane and drives recklessly.
Early Monday morning, Andrea was in a severe car wreck. The first call I got was from a very close friend who informed me that they weren’t sure if Andrea was going to make it. She sustained serious injuries to her skull and had to have liquid drained off of her brain.
As of today, she is in somewhat stable condition, but still in the hospital. She has some very difficult days ahead of her and will need the love and support of her fans who she loves more than life itself.
The day of her accident I sat and looked at all the pictures and videos I had of us. I thought about all the crazy, fun, annoying, stupid times we’ve spent together. I read her myspace and watched the videos on it. You know, Andrea is pretty f’in’ awesome and despite some of the hellish adventures she’s taken me on, we’ve had some amazingly fun times together too. Patron and chocolate lava cake, forever!
I wish her all the best as she recovers and I encourage anyone who is a friend or fan of hers to go by her myspace and leave her a comment of well wishes. I know she will be checking them on her blackberry as soon as she comes to. Nothing, not even death, will keep Andrea off her blackberry.
Andrea, I know I tell you all the time, but I love you. It is an honor to be one of your BFF’s. Feel better, baby.
“The Same Songs” vlog 49
“The Same Songs” lyrics
You had your own auditorium
You were my audience of one
I sang you the songs of love
But you never sat close enough
Now you’ve moved up
You stand alone in the front
And the songs I sing
They start to sting
You ask which ones are new
These are the same songs I always do
You never noticed they were all in 6/8
Never suggested a faster pace
You turned your head when the tempo changed
You finally noticed the girl on stage
And you moved up
You stand alone in the front
Hear the songs I sing
They always swing
On the 3 when I’m feeling blue
Which is every time I think of you
1…2…3
2…2…3
Counting time
You had with me
You moved up
You stood alone in the front
To see my lips
Form the words you had missed
Lights come up
Room fills up
Now the songs I sing
Have a different ring
When the crowd is singing too
They know something you never knew
These are the same songs I always do
These are the songs that I wrote for you
They are the same songs I always do
When Do We Get Paid?
It’s always amusing to me to try to explain what I do to certain members of my family. Of course, my immediate family; mom, dad, brothers and sister, they get it. It’s the more removed family and friends that are the hard sell.
I get some kind of sick enjoyment out of nonchalantly answering career questions with shockingly apathetic answers. OR, for an even more confusing experience, I like to casually talk about how hard I’m ballin’ out of control–all the money I have–and see how that goes over. Of course, I don’t have lots of dough.
I’ve been working my ass off for the last year towards some rather new goals in my music career. However, in the changing industry that is the bitch I just can’t shake, its hard to know when you are moving forward, moving backward or standing still.
After informing my family that EchoXS was talking to Myspace Records and that it looked like some really cool things were in the works, like a development deal, my little bro was like, “So NOW are you going to get paid?”. Not yet, Jay, but I think its getting closer.
That delicious carrot. Is it even delicious? I don’t know, so I guess I won’t worry about it. I got this far by just doing what I love which is to write a shitload of songs and then share those songs with live audiences.
Only recently have I really hit the next level of promotion in which I’m meeting people that have the “ways and means” to take me to that magical land where a day-job doesn’t exist.
It’s an exciting adventure to play these showcases and meet these people. It’s always fun to get a ‘good news’ phone call from someone at EchoXS. I can’t say enough about the creative, supportive, motivating team at Echo. Without them I would be lost in a little bubble of me, writing songs for myself and my parents to listen to on cassette. They are inspiring and I’m so so so grateful for the opportunities they are constantly providing me.
In our industry, we can’t believe everything we hear, but we can’t ever stop believing that someone might hear. I’m so grateful for getting the chance to be heard.
When will I get paid? I don’t know, Grandpa. When I do, you’ll be the first to know!
Back to L.A.
I’m staring out the window of my salon. I’m in the loft looking out onto Church Street. It’s a dreary day, but warm and the air is moist. I like this kind of weather a lot. I feels like my brain can swim. As I gaze off, my line of sight diverges and my mind begins to tread water.
I’m thinking about the time I hiked up to the observatory with Mary on New Year’s Day in the rain. I’m thinking of other times I played in the rain. I’m thinking of tender kisses between crashes of thunder. I’m thinking of picking passion flowers in my rain boots when I was nine years old. I tromped through a river that rushed over grasses and rocks along the side of the road. I remember feeling really happy and wondering if the passion fruits were edible, and if so, how my boyfriend would like them to be prepared.
I didn’t have a boyfriend, but I wanted one. I always wanted one. I can remember being three years old and wanting one. My largest stuffed animal made a terrific stand-in. I would lie beside it, stroke its head, look into its hard plastic amber eyes and whisper, “I love you.”
Of course, in the modern world, perhaps a stuffed animal is still the best choice. It doesn’t ask for much and its always there. When “I love you” dances behind your lips, you can feel free to just say it. There is no fear of repercussions. He will just look right at you with those plastic eyes as if to say, “I am whatever you want me to be.”
It’s funny to watch my mind get flooded with these images. I think, “Mary will like this teddy bear metaphor.” I think, “I wonder what happened to that stuffed animal.” I think, “I wonder what I want for lunch and if there is a place I can sit under cover and watch this rain storm.”
The dark, the dreary, the damp–they have this amazing ability to cheer me up. They make me feel cozy and small. I reminisce and reconsider.
I’m heading back to L.A. tomorrow. My little bro will graduating college! I’m sure there will be many opportunities to travel down memory lane with family and friends. I’ll be seeing Mary first thing. Maybe we can walk up to the observatory in the rain. I’d like nothing more right now. I’ll tell her my teddy bear story.
This is the kind of weather that makes me write songs.
I gotta get home and do that.

“God Killed My Love” Lyrics
He was raised mean and strong
Working on his daddy’s farm
He was as fine as the day was long
I was born to be on his arm
We rolled through the night
We burned like a church on fire
Everything we did wrong felt right
But I was a child and he was a liar
So I told him to meet me in the bar where we met
I got him drunk and I took him to bed
Once we made love he passed-out right
I put a pillow to his face and I held down tight
I killed my love
I ain’t sayin’ he never made me cry
I ain’t sayin’ he never blacked my eye
But when a man decides to lie with another
That man decides to die
They rolled through the night
I listened at the bottom of the stair
I resolved to make it right
I asked Jesus if he would care
Then I told him to meet me in the bar where we met
I got him drunk and I took him to bed
Once we made love he passed-out right
I put a pillow to his face and I held down tight
I killed my love
I killed my love by candlelight
When it was done I called the law
Weepin’ tears of deepest loss
When they asked how he’d lost his breath
I smiled and said, “I loved that man to death.”
I just told him to meet me in the bar where we met
We both got drunk and we landed in bed
That’s when the evening darkened with fright
God took my love by candlelight
God killed my love
The romance, the flame, they died the night
That God took my love by candlelight
God killed my love
God killed my love by candlelight
Being a man…
I’ve always been a guy’s girl, and over the course of my life I’ve met many men that taught me things, gave me inspiration, or possessed traits that I looked up to. I have found that as I get busy, its easy to slip into taking people in your life for granted. However, there are moments when you get a strange snapshot of two things juxtaposed that bring contrast and clarity to each other, providing you with a fresh appreciation for how truly blessed you are.
In the last 24 hours I have been reminded of how lucky I am to have a few real men in my life. It’s funny to me how some little boys get raised to believe they have to be tough and competitive to be real men. Even more interesting is the journey they have to take to unlearn this and become open, honest and strong. Some of them never do.
Obviously, I am a lover of words. They possess strength, beauty, and understanding. They can be caresses or blows. You can fight with them, build bonds with them–influence events and outcomes. It seems to me that part of being a real man is having the strength and eloquence to use words that lift up people and make things better.
A man doesn’t have to make someone feel small to make himself feel big. A man doesn’t have to make someone wrong so that he can be right. A man chooses words that inspire and cause action. A boy chooses words that impress and cause commotion. Sometimes, that’s just not what a moment calls for. Sometimes I need your sensitivity and poise.
Be stubborn, be brave, be opinionated, but at the very root of all this, be kind. Be intelligent about how you use your words. Sensitivity is not about what you share, but what you understand. However, once you take time to listen and understand, your response will be one of strength.
Thanks to all the guys out there that inspire me with their failures as well as their victories. Your precious bromances, fatherly guidance, sweet admiration, words of wisdom, boyish charm, stubborn pride, wicked humor, belief in dreams and passion for life are fires that burn brightly in my darkest moments.
“It’s Fine” Lyrics
Lay me down tonight
We’re all kinds of wrong, let’s make this right
Instead of you killing time and I fighting a pillow fight
I see the best of you when I see less of you…you’re right
Be my valentine
Be my pantomime
Be my sweet caress
Be my emptiness
Be the goal in my bed, be the hole in my head, be mine
All, some, or none of these are fine
It’s your time
Drive me down to the city’s edge
Dip my toes in your waterbed
You said you know what’s best for you and you put a test to time
If it gets ahead of you, let’s catch a view of the coastline
Baby its fine.
I see the best of you when I see less of you…you’re right.
Lay me down tonight.



