BYE, BYE BROOKLYN: THE ENDING OF AN ALBUM
by Tom d’Motor
If I could finger-paint where life has gone
I’d hand into my teach something someone else had drawn
And when I wake up, don’t wanna wake up to the sound of
Children at my feet
Oh, Lafayette, wherefore your boredom grows?
Oh, Lafayette, like you I slowly decompose
When I wake up wanna wake up to the sound of
A rhythm in the street
(That’s why I’m gonna say:)
Bye, bye to Brooklyn
Take the last seat on the train and
I’m never gonna come this way again
If I could figure out where my time has gone
Perhaps I’d see my happiness was with me all along
And then wake up to the sound of
A rhythm in the street
(That’s why I’m gonna say:)
Bye, bye to Brooklyn
Take the last seat on the train and
I’m never gonna come this way again
We wrapped up final mixing on our LP. It’s been a strange process full of gaps and hiccups. As the curtain is nearly fallen the air can be described by a peculiar adjective: stillness. Having emerged from chaos with a work of art that has us feeling awfully proud, a pride that must have instilled a confidence in us, it’s difficult to focus. That is, the album doesn’t have a name; the songs on the album haven’t been put in order; we haven’t much of a clue how or when we will release it to the public and yet we find ourselves consumed already with the next album.
Well, to be honest, Andrew is likely only suffering these ailments to a mild degree while Nick is looking back at himself from a future that he’s inventing from one second to the next.
The Motor Tom was born as not too much more than an outlet, an activity. In this, its third year of life, it’s evolved into an axis. Since the only black and white thing about existence is that black and white are silly things to consider it’s impossible to say that the band carries an exclusive importance, but it has most certainly become something more necessary than originally intended. For its members The Motor Tom is both catalyst and expression of musical and emotional growth. And it’s for that reason that the stillness, the semi-detachment from an album that has been such a crucial element in the band’s daily life for the past year isn’t a cause for worry. Rather, it’s fuckin’ life. Things that into existence and then go away. Reactions take place and then are complete. Theories arise and are debunked. The sun will likely rise once the night has ended, but if it doesn’t we’ll just have to care for each other by candle light.
