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BLYTHE GAISSERT HOME

Over the past two years I was deciding what sort of artistic statement I wanted to make with my debut album. The idea of my home being a safe, warm, and loving place to live plays a prominent role in my life. When we were getting ready to leave our New York City neighborhood of 15 years, I found myself having long conversations with my seven year old about what “home” is. I told him that it isn’t just a place, but the love of the people inside the home as well as a feeling of the community outside a home. Around this time we started hearing all of these horrific stories from the border about people trying to find a safe place to live, and children being separated from their parents. It occurred to me that all of this is still happening today, after thousands of years of people being exiled from their homes and creating new ones. It stirred a feeling within me that rippled outwards. It became clear to me that the concept of home is what I wanted to explore with my album. When I approached the composers & writers this resonated with them as well; both personally, and in a larger social sense. I was starting plans to record the album as COVID-19 emerged and it became apparent that all of this was more relevant than ever. We all now have a different view of the word HOME forever.

1 ARCHAEOLOGY (DAVID T. LITTLE/ROYCE VAVREK) 2 SONGS FROM EXILE: I. DIAN DI (RENE ORTH/LI QING ZHAO) 3 SONGS FROM EXILE: II. DISTANT DREAMS (RENE ORTH/LI QING ZHAO) 4 NOUS DEUX (MARTIN HENNESSY/PAUL ELUARD) 5 CARNE BARATA (LAURA KAMINSKY/KIMBERLY REED) 6 HOME IS WHERE I TAKE MY SHOES OFF (JOHN GLOVER/KELLEY ROURKE) 7 RAMONANEWYORKAMSTERDAM

(KAMALA SANKARAM)

8 JERRY HAMMER (RICKY IAN GORDON) 9 BUNGALOW

(MIKAEL KARLSSON/ROB STEPHENSON )

ARCHAEOLOGY (DAVID LITTLE/ROYCE VAVREK) SECRETS, COVERED, PENCIL, GNAWED, PRIMED, BLIZZARD, THIRSTY, LUMBER, KNOTS, HIDE,

LYRICS:

REVEAL, REVEAL... THE SECRET, COVERED BY, PENCIL MARKS, GNAWED BY, WALLS PRIMED, BLIZZARD WHITE, THIRSTY FOR, LOCKED IN LUMBER, KNOTS, OF CHRONICLES HIDE, REVEAL THE SECRETS OF A HOME, REVEAL PROMISES COVERED BY ICEBERG BLUE, LADDERS IN PENCIL MARK SPURTS OF GROWTH, HOLES GNAWED BY RODENTS OR PUNCHED IN RAGE, WALLS PRIMED, BLIZZARD WHITE, THIRSTY FOR ANOTHER COAT, CHAPTERS LOCKED IN LUMBER, KNOTS OF WOOD WHERE CHRONICLES HIDE, WHERE CHRONICLES HIDE. REVEAL THE SECRETS OF A HOME.

SONGS OF EXILE I. DIAN DI (RENE ORTH/LI QING ZHOU) I.窗前誰種芭蕉樹? 陰滿中庭; 陰滿中庭, 葉葉心心舒卷有餘情。傷心枕上三更雨, 點滴霖霪; 點滴霖霪, 愁損離人不慣起來聽! I. WHO PLANTED THE BANANA TREES IN FRONT OF MY WINDOW? THEIR SHADOWS FALL IN THE MIDST OF THE COURTYARD. THEIR SHADOWS FALL IN THE MIDST OF THE COURTYARD. LEAVES LIKE HEARTS, LEAVES LIKE HEARTS THAT OPEN AND CLOSE WITH EXCESS OF LOVE. MIDNIGHT, RAIN ON THE LEAVES SADDENS MY OWN HEART. DIEN! DI! DIEN! DI! BITTER, COLD UNCEASING RAIN. DRIP! DROP! DRIP! DROP! BITTER, COLD UNCEASING RAIN. LONELINESS. LONELINESS. SORROW CORRODES THIS EXILE FROM THE NORTH. HOW CAN I BEAR TO LIE AWAKE AND LISTEN?

SONGS OF EXILE II. DISTANT DREAMS (RENE ORTH/LI QING ZHOU) II.夜來

醉卸妝遲。梅萼插殘枝。酒醒薰破春睡，夢遠不成歸。

人悄悄，月依依。翠

垂。更

殘蕊，更捻餘香，更得些時。

II. TO THE TUNE “TELLING MY DEEPEST FEELINGS” (NO. 22) DRUNK LAST NIGHT, I WAS SLOW TO TAKE OFF MY MAKE-UP. PLUM BLOSSOMS IN MY HAIR HAVE WITHERED ON THEIR STEM. SOBERING UP, THEIR SCENT INTERRUPTS MY SPRING SLEEP, MY DISTANT DREAM DID NOT CARRY ME HOME.

NOUS DEUX (MARTIN HENNESSY/PAUL ELUARD) * ENGLISH TRANSLATION BY MARTIN HENNESSY

NOUS DEUX NOUS TENANT PAR LA MAIN. NOUS NOUS CROYONS PARTOUT CHEZ NOUS. SOUS L’ARBRE DOUX SOUS LE CIEL NOIR. SOUS TOUS LES TOITS AU COIN DU FEU. DANS LA RUE VIDE EN PLEIN SOLEIL. DANS LES YEUX VAGUES DE LA FOULE. AUPRES DES SAGES ET DES FOUS. PARMI LES ENFANTS ET LES GRANDS. L’AMOUR N’A RIEN DE MYSTERIEUX. NOUS SOMMES L’EVIDENCE MEME. LES AMOUREUX SE CROIENT CHEZ NOUS.

NO SOUNDS OF PEOPLE NOW, THE MOON HANGS LONGINGLY IN THE SKY.

THE TWO OF US

THE GREEN BLINDS ARE LOWERED.

THE TWO OF US HOLDING HANDS WE BELIEVE EVERYWHERE IS OUR HOME BENEATH THE GENTLE TREE UNDER THE BLACK SKY BENEATH EVERY ROOF BY THE FIRESIDE IN THE EMPTY STREET IN BROAD DAYLIGHT IN THE WANDERING EYES OF THE CROWD NEXT TO THE WISE OR THE FOOLISH AMONG CHILDREN OR GROWN-UPS LOVE IS NOTHING MYSTERIOUS WE ARE THE VERY PROOF LOVE ITSELF FINDS A HOME IN US.

AGAIN, I FINGER THE WITHERED FLOWERS, AGAIN, PINCHING OUT THEIR REMAINING FRAGRANCE, AGAIN, TO GET A LITTLE MORE TIME

CARNE BARATA (LAURA KAMINSKY/KIMBERLY REED) * ENGLISH TRANSLATION BY LAURA VIRELLA

<LINDA MORALES> LOOK WHERE WE ARE. THEY MAKE US FIGHT, WE REPEAT THEIR PREJUDICE. MY PEOPLE, YOUR PEOPLE, THEY FORCE US ALL TO CHEAT. WE ARE ENCOURAGED TO WORK WITHOUT DOCUMENTS. THEY ARE TEMPTED TO HIRE THE UNDOCUMENTED. AND WHETHER THEY KNOW IT OR NOT, THE LINDA LARSENS OF THE WORLD — THOSE IN POWER — GET TO EAT A LOT OF CHEAP MEAT. CARNE BARATA. IN CENTRO-AMERICA WE ARE BUTCHERED. WE HAVE NO CHOICE. WE COME TO TOWNS LIKE POSTVILLE TO HACK THE MEAT YOUR CITIZENS WON’T. AMERICA IS IMPOSSIBLE WITHOUT US. IMPOSSIBLE WITHOUT US. MI ESPOSO, MI NINO... * LES CONSIGUIERON SU CARNE BARATA. Y DESAPARECIERON. LOS DESAPARECIERON. DE VEZ EN CUANDO OIGO SUS VOCES, PERO NO LOS ALCANZO A VER. LOS OJOS TIERNOS DE MI MARIDO... Y FERNANDITO, CUAN GRANDE ESTARA? NO HAY HOGAR SI NO ESTAMOS JUNTOS. MI FAMILIA POR ELECCION. MY “FAMILY OF CHOICE.” PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME. SEND THEM, TEMPEST-TOSSED, TO ME.

MORALES APPROACHES ABRAHAM’S DOOR, SINGING THROUGH IT. YOU CAN STAY HERE AND KEEP YOUR RELIGION. POSTVILLE IS BIG ENOUGH FOR YOU, AND ME.

<FLEISCHMAN> BIG ENOUGH FOR YOU, AND ME.

<MORALES/FLEISCHMAN> OUR HOMETOWN. BIG ENOUGH FOR US. OUR WIDE WORLD. OUR MUSIC. LISTEN TO MY MUSIC. LISTEN TO OUR MUSIC.

*TRANSLATION: MY HUSBAND, MY SON, THEY GAVE YOU CHEAP MEAT, THEN THEY DISAPPEARED. THEY WERE DISAPPEARED. I HEAR THEIR VOICES FROM TIME TO TIME, BUT I WANT TO SEE THEM. MY HUSBAND’S EYES, SO KIND. HOW TALL IS FERNANDO NOW? HOME IS WHEN WE ARE TOGETHER. MY FAMILY OF CHOICE.

HOME IS WHERE I TAKE MY SHOES OFF (JOHN GLOVER/KELLEY ROURKE) HOME IS WHERE I TAKE MY SHOES OFF AND MY SOLES SPREAD, FEELING THE WEIGHT OF THE DAY AND ALL THE LITTLE BONES REARRANGE THEMSELVES, HOME, SAFE AND UNCONFINED. “HOME IS WHERE WE TAKE OUR SHOES OFF,” I’VE TOLD MY KIDS A THOUSAND TIMES. “YOU STEP IN A LOT OF POOP AND PEE OUT THERE.” (NOT TO MENTION USED NEEDLES AND USED – NEVER MIND.) HOME IS WHERE I TAKE MY SHOES OFF – WHERE I TRADE THE ACRES OF CONCRETE AND CRAP FOR A LANDSCAPE, SO SAFE AND SO FAMILIAR, I COULD MAKE MY WAY AROUND BLIND. MY FEET ALWAYS KNOW WHAT THEY’LL FIND HERE – THE SMOOTH HARDWOOD FLOORS, THE WARM WOOLY RUG. HERE AT HOME, WHERE I TAKE MY SHOES OFF,

I COULD MAKE MY WAY AROUND BLIND IN THE DARK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. EVERYWHERE ELSE, THE GROUND IS SHIFTING, BUT AT HOME, MY FEET KNOW WHAT THEY’LL FIND. CRUMBY COOKIE WRAPPERS – NO REAL SURPRISE THERE. REGURGITATED CAT FOOD, MY OWN SHEDDING HAIR LEGOS &LT;SOUND&GT;, DIRTY UNDERWEAR – [BITS OF KITTY LITTER LODGED IN THAT ROUGH SPLINTERY PLACE WHERE A SPILT THE BOTTLE OF WINDEX STRIPPED OFF THE FINISH AND A STICKY SPOT THERE – AND THERE – AND THERE – ] THAT’S WHAT I GET FOR BARING MY SOLES, MY REWARD FOR TAKING MY SHOES OFF. BUT DISTRACTED OR NOT, MY FEET ALWAYS FIND THEIR WAY AROUND THAT CREAKY BOARD THAT COULD WAKE A SLEEPING CHILD WHO’S DREAMING WITH HIS SHOES OFF, SOLES SPREADING, UNCONFINED. EVERYWHERE THE GROUND KEEPS SHIFTING EVEN HERE, THERE’S SO LITTLE I CONTROL IN THIS HOME, WHERE WE TAKE OUR SHOES OFF.

RAMONANEWYORKAMSTERDAM (KAMALA SANKARAM) HOME IS IT A PLACE? IS IT A SET OF NARROW STAIRS A DOORWAY TO A BALCONY A WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE DARK WATER IS IT A WINDOW TURNED INTO A MIRROR AN UNWOUND CLOCK ON THE MANTLE SHELVES BENDING UNDER BOOKS IS IT A FIG TREE SEA GLASS TRILOBITES THE STONE THAT YOU FOUND CUTTINGS FROM OUR GRANDMOTHER’S GARDEN HOME IS IT A MEMORY? WAS IT THE CHALKBOARD MOVIE THEATER THE PINK SHAG CARPET THE BLANKET YOU SCRATCHED TO BITS WAS IT THE OLEANDER THE WHITE WICKER BEDFRAME THE PATH FROM THE WINDOW TO THE ROOF

WAS IT THE RED VELVET LAMPSHADE THE VIEW OF THE ROSE WINDOW THE THREE OF US FOR THE LAST TIME BEFORE SEPARATE HOMES DISTANCE, ABSENCE, LOSS HOME IS IT A PLACE IS IT A MEMORY WILL IT BE YOUR SILVER COFFEE CUP YOUR RED PICTURE FRAME OR MAYBE THAT FADED POLAROID OF THREE LITTLE GIRLS, BROWN FROM THE SUN

JERRY HAMMER (RICKY IAN GORDON) JERRY HAMMER WAS A BOY IN MY FIRST CLASS. PEOPLE SAID WHERE HE LIVED IT WAS LOWER CLASS. HOUSES CRUMBLED LAWNS WERE BRICK AND BROKEN GLASS. THERE WAS NO GRASS. NO ONE KNEW HIM. HE WAS SHUNNED BY THE WHOLE SCHOOL. JEERED AT, HE WAS OUTCAST LIKE THE VILLAGE FOOL. ALL AGREED ON, AS IF CODE, OR HIDDEN RULE: HE WASN’T COOL. SO, WE WERE CRUEL. WINTER, HE WENT MISSING AND THE GROWNUPS SAID,

WALKING ON THE BRIDGE, HE SLIPPED AND HIT HIS HEAD, FELL INTO THE WATER WHERE THE ICE HAD SPREAD, THE SLUSH TURNED RED, AND HE WAS DEAD. JERRY’S BLACKNESS MOCKED THE WHITENESS OF FRESH SNOW. IS THIS STORY EVEN TRUE? WE’LL NEVER KNOW. NO ONE CARED TO WAGER HALF A NICKEL ON… HE WAS JUST… GONE. HOW COME MRS. CASPER NEVER SAID HIS NAME? ACTING LIKE HE WASN’T THERE; AN UNLIT FLAME.

LOOKING BACK, THE ONLY THING I FEEL IS SHAME, BUT WHO’S TO BLAME? IT’S STILL THE SAME WAY. JERRY HAMMER, ROIL THE OCEAN OF GREEN-BLUE. IF I COULD TURN BACK THE CLOCK, HERE IS WHAT I’D DO: ASK YOU HOME FOR MILK AND COOKIES, SUPPER TOO. I’D SING FOR YOU. I’M SORRY.

BUNGALOW (PT.1) (MIKAEL KARLSSON/ROB STEPHENSON) THIS SONG IS MY BUNGALOW MY VOICE A RANCH-STYLE PEEP TEMPLE OR COZY FURNITURE AND A MESS IS NOT ALLOWED THIS HAND HELD DEVICE BECOMES MY CHEERFUL SISTER SUCH WARMTH IS PARTICLES BLUNT COLORS INVADING THE ROOMS NOT EVERYTHING MEANS SOMETHING NOT ODD REFLECTIONS NOT EVEN WALLS WHAT’S SOFT HAVENS IN COOL SPOTS PLEASED WITH SURFACES 3-2-6-8 6 OH 1 OH NOT QUITE MONOTONE WITH SLIGHT DEVIATIONS SENT FROM THIS HAND HELD DEVICE 3-2-6 SPICE TRACK 8 SAND FIX TREE 6 OH FIZZ 8 TRAY SLIP 3-2-8 THUMB RACK STICK 6 WISE TUCK WAS 8 GLIDE RED 9 FLEX TRICK TEN ROCK BED 4 SAID BUZZ FIRE WIDE 8 RED 9 GIFT GRID 9 TIMES PRICK SHADE PEACH TREE SLIM JIM PROTECT ME FROM THE GREEN GREEN GRASS OF FRONT YARD SERENITY IKEA SENDS ME HOPE TO ASSEMBLE IN MY TINY STUDIO SUCH TENDER AND EXCITABLE NERVOUS SYSTEMS LIKE SOFA PARASITES FENDING OFF THE LIGHT FROM BLINKING SCREENS CAN YOU PLEASE GO BACK INTO THE CRAWLSPACE? WHERE THE SKIES ARE BLUE LABEL ANYTHING THAT ISN’T MOVING AND SAVE ALL YOUR LOVE FOR ME OR COLLECT APPROXIMATIONS

BUNGALOW (PT.2) (MIKAEL KARLSSON/ROB STEPHENSON) A BRICK PIN CUSHION IS A GREAT CONVENIENCE BUT PERHAPS MORE STRESSFUL THAN A GLASS-FRONT REFRIDGERATOR TAKE A JIGGER-FULL OF HUDDLING THOUGHTS PUT EVERYDAY CLEANING ITEMS INTO OPEN BINS CAT FUR STICKS TO MY THINGS ARRANGED ON A RICHLY CARVED MANTLE-PIECE THE SHALLOW FIREPLACE SAVES WOOD AND GIVES MORE HEAT “CHANGE THE CHANNEL YOU COUNTRY-FRIED TAILGATOR” “YOU’RE A REAL TREE CAMEO” “SOMEHOW I MADE IT BACK HERE BUT LOST THE DOG” THIS SONG IS MY BUNGALOW MY VOICE A RANCH-STYLE PEEP TEMPLE OR COZY FURNITURE AND A MESS IS NOT ALLOWED THIS HAND HELD DEVICE BECOMES MY CHEERFUL SISTER SUCH WARMTH IS PARTICLES BLUNT COLORS INVADING THE ROOMS

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