HEIRLOOM EP, Out May 20th!!!!!

May 06, 2014 03:05

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In case you've been asleep at the wheel, or living under a rock, I have a new EP coming out on May 20th! HEIRLOOM will debut 4 new tracks, two new tracks, 2 covers and one special re-visitation to an old favorite. Only available in physical format through my website, but HEIRLOOM will be available as a digital only single through Bandcamp.com! YOU CAN PRE-ORDER IT THROUGH WWW.THISQUIETSIEGE.NET

2012 brought death, poor health, hemorrhaging fist-sized tissue, blood transfusions, fainting and crying. It was one of the most personal things I had ever gone to, and it scared me, and isolated me from everyone. By the end of 2012, wellness had some again, but my grandmother had started to leave us. By February 2013, she was gone. I assisted in her end of life care, and she passed away holding my hand. I had never loved another human being as much as I have loved her.

Around the same time of her passing, I was dealing with some cyber bullying. Let me tell you, there is nothing more taxing than someone sending you an anonymous message telling you "you should go kill yourself," "your art is ugly," "you are horrible" for challenging art theft while you're up to your literal eyeballs in your grandmother's feces.

I was losing my best friend, my childhood home, and all memories of warmth and stability were being tarnished by greed. Things were being said about me that were unbelievably cruel, and no matter how much I knew that they were untrue, I couldn't shut them out. I was completely out of control.

It was the perfect storm for one hell of a meltdown. It's taken a very long time to shake off. I've been through a lot of tough shit. When you're a kid, you're resilient and you can bounce back; when you're an adult and you know it's not supposed to be that way, it's Fuck This Shit O'Clock.

HEIRLOOM was unknowingly composed around the 5 stages of grief, smashed into 4 tracks. It roars and seethes in the beginning, grits its teeth and hisses like a wounded cat, licks its wounds and winds itself down into a whispered lullaby.

The title track, Heirloom is a dream-pop, baroque composition, represents a giant middle finger to anyone who gave me grief during the period of my grandmother's decline. It's Anger and Denial. That's great that you thought you were so important, that you needed to write mean things, or send them to me, but I can tell you, end of life care sobers you the fuck up and straightens your priorities the fuck out. You really aren't that important. My grandparents had nothing of monetary value, but they had a lot of sentimental things. And they had love. Any nothing was going to take that away from me. Nothing.

There's a Place for Us (a Fragment) is Bargaining. It weaves in and out of vocal layers, synths and volume control, à la the Cocteau Twins. It was inspired by what I saw happening in Brazil, The Mission in San Francisco, my own life and losing a home. Losing something that's yours that should always be there. I am joined on this by the incredible London and Chicago-based actress, Rebecca Curran, who graciously agreed to appear on this track.

Satellite of Love, a long-time Lou Reed favourite, isn't quite Depression, but it is a very deep sadness. It comes from a very private and wounded place within myself, and it's just me with a toy cat keyboard. I loved Lou. He taught me a lot about coming to terms with my own bisexuality, and had an ability to write the most precious music for a man with a gravely voice. I was devastated to learn the music world had lost him, which I learned right as my grandmother's neighbour and friend was ailing. It was a sad end of a long period of death and loss. I was personally affected by the passing of Lou Reed in a way I cannot describe and I am still not a hundred percent sure as to why. I audibly choke up a bit during the bridge.

Pip and Miki/ Alseep closes the record a cappella with a quiet, begrudging Acceptance. It was the last time I recorded in my grandparent's house. The house had been mostly emptied. I propped the microphone up on the shelving that had once held hundreds of records I loves and cherished, and now there were none. I coupled one of my personal favourites with a favorite by The Smiths. It's over. There's nothing left for you, and nothing you can do. There's no time to cry. Although, we did get some unexpected guests in the final sessions; some ghosts appeared on the track. We had some unknown voices, cats meowing, birds chirping, strange footsteps. The neighbourhood is empty now; all the surrounding houses are vacant. No one and nothing could have made those noises. But it's not disquieting, it's comforting, and leaves me feelings looked-after.

I loved my grandparents. They were my best friends, my everything. They gave me warmth, stability and love in a childhood wrought with incest, domestic violence and poverty. I would not be the person I am today if not for their love. I wish they were here to see the terrified little kid who hid in cupboards was now making records.

I have this reoccurring dream. I am about 12 years old, and I am running down the street with my long hair in an unruly braid and I have a cartoon backpack. I am running HOME, to their house. Grandpa has the speakers in the front of the house on, and you can hear the music playing down the street. The hedge is tall, and the house is pink with yellow trim. The front door is unlocked and I burst through yelling, "HERE I AM!!!!" The house is just as it was when I was a kid. There are wonderful smells, and the music is even more warm inside. I hear the voices of so many people I love, all of them now deceased, calling my name. I run and run through the house all of the way to the back bedroom. I look up to the long mirror and I see I am an adult, dressed as I was in the photos taken by ShellE Productions. The music has stopped. The house is empty. I go back through the old house, and it's as it was in the photo shoot. I leave and I shut the door behind me; it's locked and I don't have a key. That's it. It's all over. The house is brown like it is now. This is the end. I get into an old white car,-- I think it's a Mercury?-- and there's a man with brown hair. I can't see his face. I look into the rear view, and I see the house is pink and yellow again, and Grandma is standing on the porch waving goodbye to me like she always would when I would visit her. The car is pulling away, I can't take my eyes off of the rear view, and I feel my heart shatter into fifty-thousand little pieces inside my chest.

And then I awake, crying, every single time.

Be kind to one another. Prioritize. We're only here a little while, and I wish you all a long and happy life.

Love always,

Bees.

xoxo

my music, releases, le bas fond

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