Ode to Eileen, written in March 2018
https://soundcloud.com/cayo-tea/ode-to-eileen
Often times when I make art, it flows out of me, sourced by some unconscious internal layer which is yearning to examine itself. This piece was a conglomeration of snapshots, emotion, apology, and essential expression.
When the vision of this song was born, I sat on the headlands of a violent sea, midday sun warming my face. My new lover rested beside me as we waited for his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend to round the bend. The hours that ensued turned into a series of Polaroid snapshots in my memory. My partner had his film camera, and he snapped a picture of Eileen just as a butterfly landed on her delicate shoulder. Her tiger eyes glinted in the sunlight, somewhere between tragedy and acceptance. She laid back in the grass and placed crystals along her chest, staying still for a long while as the waves beat their steady rhythm below. It was a melancholy meeting, a messy fracturing of friendship, guilty tension, and half-attempted communication.
When I returned home that day, those images gyrated through my mind, mingling with remorse and uncertainty. When I pictured Eileen, I felt that I owed her some sort of acknowledgement, at least, for her grace and existence and pain. I also felt that I needed to process my own emotions regarding the situation, and the best way I knew how to do so was to write about it.
At the time, I was living with my partner in a makeshift studio. It was one big room full of amps, guitars, drums, old mono connectors, and mic stands. Our bed rested on the floor in the corner, almost an afterthought. When this song began to flow out of me, I picked up a guitar and almost immediately found chords to the tune which was already playing out in my mind. A few hours later, I was sitting close to the computer, headphones on and guitar plugged in, tapping my foot to the metronome and recording this raw track only hours after its conception.
In the lyrics, my thoughts tumble through: jealousy, admiration and awe of Eileen, victorious for the winning of a heart that she had lost, and then my processing of the relationship I sought. “sorting seeds” discusses my possible pregnancy. “We must know nothing” is deep empathy for the girl I had pushed away and the pain I was causing her, feeling just as much confusion as a young girl who is lost and certain only of her uncertainty.
This piece was envisioned, created, and written by me and produced by Isiah Davis.
