This, the third Grace Darling album, was never released on CD because C’est La Mort, our record label, retired from the business and I personally dislike the whole concept of label shopping. I considered releasing the album under my independent Sardonic Sounds label, but the economics of marketing a romantic and classically inspired album smelled of financial suicide.
Consequently, Invisible spent a couple of years “in the can” and, with the exception of ‘Victoria Knows’ (which appeared on the Doctor Death’s Volume 6 compilation CD), it looked as if Invisible would never be heard by a general audience.
In response to encouragement from numerous Grace Darling fans, Sardonic Sounds offered this entire album FREE in MP3 format from January 1999 through September 1999. During that time it generated nearly 10,000 downloads and secured a new legion of fans for Grace Darling.
Track Listing
01. Ancient Animal
02. Flow Culture
03. Teardrops
05. Carousel
06. A Pathetiqué
07. Victoria Knows
08. Invisible
09. The Bubble Song
10. Walls
©1994. Some songs have been made available for free download. In exchange for this, we ask only that you do not redistribute, sell, give away, or repackage this music without prior consent.
Lyrics & Track Info
Ancient Animal
(Music: Simpson. Text: Caitlin Bini)
For many years
I walked with numb and padded feet between the noises.
In my hands
and in my heart
and in my mouth I carried, like a sad and ancient animal,
his words.
Tenderly I carried them. Gingerly I walked. Fiercely I protected them.
But one by one
I felt them grow cold against my tongue. I felt them die inside.
And now, even many years again past,
I feel them stir
one by one
to haunt me with their beauty,
to taunt me with their lack of warmth,
to make me ache all over again with an absence
I still can feel.
© grEGORy simpson & Caitlin Bini
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the authors.
ABOUT THIS SONG: In 1991, after finishing the Sardonic Sounds release of the first Grace Darling album, I decided to start working on a “chamber opera.” I contacted my friend, Caitlin Bini, and asked her to write a libretto. Early on, she showed me a poem she had written a few years previously called ‘Ancient Animal.’
Normally my compositional technique involved writing lyrics after creating a basic song structure, but I decided to experiment with this poem — to see if I could, instead, write music to an existing text.
‘Ancient Animal’ was composed in mid 1991. Soon after, I began working on the C’est La Mort release of the first Grace Darling CD, and on the Bartholomew Fair project. I forgot about this song and the opera until late in the ‘Invisible’ recording sessions, when I found this song sitting in a “unfinished ideas” folder on my hard drive.
I presented it to Val, who rehearsed it at home for a week. She returned the following week, singing it in only a few takes and surprising me yet again with the depth and versatility of her voice.
Hear the paparazzi’s motor drives.
See the rapture that keeps them alive.
Behold. Liquid in a gilded jar. Oh! Exciting!
I’m bored with the blue one; pour the red one inside it.
Now then, swirl it all around so we can see.
Flowing. Flowing.
Drink upon the press corps’ fluid verse.
Hear the album. See the film. Be first,
because once the ink is finished flowing; it’s over.
Throw out all the old ones. Buy the new ones and quickly.
You don’t want to be the one that’s not aware.
Flowing. Flowing.
© grEGORy simpson
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the author.
ABOUT THIS SONG: ‘Flow Culture’ expresses the same frustration with the music industry as does the album’s title. I was unhappy with the “alternative” music press and their inability to actually embrace anything truly alternative. Unless your music fit into a currently popular genre, it was ignored.
Upon this frustration sprang ‘Flow Culture.’ Like ‘Open Air Cafe’ and ‘Glove’ from the first Grace Darling album, this song also wears my Kurt Weill influences proudly… only this time the cynicism of the lyrics matches the music in a more perfect Weimar-esque fashion.
It’s strange that so cynical a song ended up on so romantic an album. ‘Flow Culture’ and ‘Carousel’ represent the only two moments in which ‘Invisible’s’ fictional heroin bravely lashes out from within her self-absorbed suffering.
Oh no.
Wasn’t me, wasn’t me
that hurt you.
I won’t be wading
through your pool of teardrops.
No lies.
All I see, all I see
is through you.
Your tears have cleared all
obstructions to your heart.
So you’re
all alone, all alone
and sinking;
your tears dissolving
your dreams and emotions.
Oh, so
I don’t feel, I don’t feel
what hurts you.
My passion left with
my last lover’s teardrops.
© grEGORy simpson
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the author.
ABOUT THIS SONG: This is the fourth of the bittersweet romantic songs at the core of ‘Invisible’; the first three being ‘A Pathetiqué,’ ‘Victoria Knows,’ and ‘Standing Next To You.’ Like those songs, this one came about quickly but, unlike them, I was not in the studio when I wrote it.
It was a friday night, and I was taking the 15 minute walk from my apartment to one of my favorite San Francisco pubs. I began to hum the simple little piano piece that begins this song though I had never played it on piano. I thought, “that’s nice. I hope I can remember it.” With the piano piece playing in my mind, I began to hear the melody line. I contemplated turning around and going home to work on the song, but kept walking toward the pub. I thought that the whole song sounded like falling water — like tears. Suddenly, instead of singing a wordless melody, I found myself singing the first verse. Before I arrived at the pub, I had composed all four other verses, as well. When I reached the pub, I grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins and frantically badgered the bartender for a pen. While standing at the edge of the bar, I furiously wrote down the words, melody, and accompanying piano parts on that handful of bar napkins.
I ate a quick dinner and walked home. That evening, I recorded the piano part and wrote most of the orchestration. I called Val into the studio the next day and she nailed the performance (in spite of the fact that the wordless bridge contained the highest note she had ever sung — even surpassing the soaring heights she’d achieved on ‘I Bury My Love’ from Grace Darling’s first C’est La Mort album).
Strangely, the thing I like most about this song is the pointless repetition of the second line of each verse — “wasn’t me, wasn’t me,” or “all I see, all I see.” As a child, I was always baffled by the Gilligan’s Island theme song. Why did they have to sing, “a three hour tour. A three hour tour?” Wasn’t once enough? I was quite happy to find I had now written something equally as baffling. Equally as baffling.
Standing Next to You
(Simpson)
I have opinions and I have some answers, too.
But no one hears me; I’m only standing next to you.
Sometimes, in public, I’m cast aside in all the haste.
No one sees me; I’m only standing next to you.
Dreaming…
Flutter to the mountain and be still until the spring.
Trickle down a hillside ’til we come upon a stream.
I’ve had successes and I’ve had my failures, too.
Yet no one’s noticed; I’m only standing next to you.
I’ve seen, around you, emotions swell in those you know.
But no one feels me; I’m only standing next to you.
Dreaming…
Our socializing affords my greatest solitude.
No one knows me; I’m only standing next to you.
I have a moment when all the world asks me what’s new.
Then I awaken; I’m only sleeping next to you.
Dreaming…
Churning through the mountains ’til we plunge into the sea.
Swallowed by the fog we storm ashore and we are free.
© grEGORy simpson
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the author.
ABOUT THIS SONG: This is the third of the four songs I would consider the “heart” of ‘Invisible’ — the first two being ‘A Pathetiqué’ and ‘Victoria Knows’ — the last one being ‘Teardrops.’ All four of these songs couple a fairly light, simple orchestration with lyrics of sadness and isolation, giving the album its timeless romantic feel.
As with most of my songs, this one was based on an improvisation, which I gradually began to orchestrate into a fully produced arrangement. I was watching television while playing around with orchestration and melody ideas and I noticed that, standing next to nearly every famous man or woman they showed on the news, was their spouse. The spouse was always ignored; he/she never spoke and was never acknowledged. I thought “what an odd feeling that must be.” This became the basis for the lyrics to ‘Standing Next To You.’
One day I want you to stay.
Two days I want you to go.
Oh God. I love you.
Get out of my sight!
Where are you?
Is your heart as
cold inside as
all this frostbite is in mine?
Are you down and
are you vacant
’til you feel me scream?
I’ve touched two poles;
trembled at both but feared only one.
One day I want you to stay.
Wait a minute.
I’ve been here before.
© grEGORy simpson
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the author.
ABOUT THIS SONG: One can only be melancholy and passive for so long before snapping. The ‘Invisible’ album and I were both drowning under the weight of so much dreamy sadness and solitude. I was getting agitated with the sound of the album, and was growing frustrated with my own personal relationships. I seemed to be on an endless spiral — only it wasn’t a downward spiral, it was just a spiral that never went anywhere except back upon itself.
Some fans find ‘Carousel’ too jarring for inclusion on Invisible, but writing it cleared up some of my own emotional cobwebs and, in my estimation, it adds a reality and depth of emotion to Invisible. Woodrow Dumas of C’est La Mort Records recognized this aspect of the song and requested it for inclusion on an upcoming ‘Doctor Death’s’ compilation that, unfortunately, was never released.
It also is the second Grace Darling song (along with ‘The Bubble Song’) to feature Val’s incredible ability to “speak in tongues.”
Standing in the drizzle, there’s a man who only wants to feel his dreams.
Pausing by the statue, there’s a woman who hopes the rain will drown her screams.
And if lightning fell from the sky, and they should die; no one would care.
There’s a girl who’s laughter dissipates without a single ear to hear.
There’s another upstairs in the building that has succumbed to her fears.
And if fire engulfed the home, took all they owned; they would not care.
Entertaining no one is a child who’s keeping silence company.
Not without a struggle did his mother give up hope and sanity.
And if no one will learn their names, nothing will change; history won’t care.
© grEGORy simpson
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the author.
ABOUT THIS SONG:‘A Pathetiqué’ was the first song recorded for the new Grace Darling album (although it wasn’t the oldest Grace track — a distinction held by ‘The Bubble Song.’)
I had recently purchased a Korg Wavestation AD and was beginning to program some new sounds for it. As I experimented with creating a clanky bell-like tone, I kept playing the same little chord pattern over and over. Finally, after an hour or so of programming, I realized my little chord progression was becoming quite addictive. I thought it would form a nice backing track for a song, so I improvised the melody line and the lyrics for the first and third verses. I wrote an instrumental bridge, jotted off some lyrics for a second verse and finished all the production that same day. I called Val into the studio on the following Saturday to record the vocals., then stayed up that night mixing. By Sunday morning, the song was complete.
I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to create another Grace Darling album. The Bartholomew Fair project was rapidly disintegrating — I had just finished recording ‘Hush’ for Bartholomew Fair and was beginning to question where I could go from there. The simplicity and wistfulness of ‘A Pathetiqué’ convinced me that another Grace Darling album was probably within our grasp, and I immediately began work on a song that would soon become ‘Victoria Knows.’
The frosted, frozen gray sky
Has separated itself from the snow.
Emptiness fills your soul.
Victoria knows.
The wind can burn a body
And all these snowflakes can feel like they’re stones.
Tears tear a hole in you.
Victoria knows.
The crystal magnificence
Is opulent as the white shroud of snow.
Ceremony is cold.
Victoria knows.
© grEGORy simpson
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the author.
ABOUT THIS SONG: Grace Darling had just finished recording ‘A Pathetiqué,’ our first recording in nearly a year. My new project, Bartholomew Fair, had recently broken up, and it was a project of dark and dense beauty. I could sense that, unchecked, my songs would continue down that path — growing even more dense and dark. My “accidental” composition of ‘A Pathetiqué,’ which coupled a light tone and breezy melody with its lonely lyrics, made me realize there was a new direction in which to channel the growing darkness in my music — into a sound much more romantic and forlorn than the desolation that was consuming the Bartholomew Fair sound.
I knew that C’est La Mort was about to release another ‘Doctor Death’s’ compilation CD, and that Grace Darling had not sent the label anything for the new CD. I felt that ‘A Pathetiqué’ wasn’t strong enough for a ‘Doctor Death’s’ CD, so I set out to create a song with a similar mood, but with much more power. Like ‘A Pathetiqué,’ ‘Victoria Knows’ practically wrote itself. The entire song was written and orchestrated in a 2-day marathon session.
Woodrow Dumas, owner of C’est La Mort, loved the song and included it on ‘Doctor Death’s Vol 6 – Floribundus.’ An interesting thing about this release — C’est La Mort, a Louisiana record label, had just released a gothic compilation album that contained songs from five San Francisco bands! Right in the middle of the growing grunge movement, here were five San Francisco bands going an entirely different direction. I sensed something big was happening in the San Francisco music scene and tried desperately to alert the San Francisco music press to this growing gothic/classical phenomenon. No one was interested. Guitar bands were getting national attention and the San Francisco music machinery would rather join the bandwagon than acknowledge the individuality of the sound being created by so many of its residents. This was not the first time I experienced such hypocrisy from the San Francisco music scene. The first Grace Darling album was receiving decent airplay in a number of college markets, yet local San Francisco stations refused to acknowledge the band’s existence.
‘Victoria Knows,’ I believe, captures the essence of what ‘Invisible’ is all about, and it remains my favorite of all Grace Darling songs.
Instrumental for Piano & Orchestra
© grEGORy simpson
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the author.
ABOUT THIS SONG: All was chaos. I was moving and had to sell my mixing console since it wouldn’t fit into my new apartment. My day job was beginning to consume all my waking (and non-waking) hours. Woodrow Dumas had just pulled the plug on C’est La Mort records, and my hard disk recording equipment would no longer work with my new Macintosh computer, meaning I could not record any vocals.
I didn’t know what to do. The first Grace Darling album did not meet with as much success as I had hoped. The music press ignored the album, choosing not to review it at all. Woodrow contacted the magazines to find out why. Many magazines had the same response: The editors really liked the album personally, but they felt that the sound was outside the tastes of their readers. Amazing. These so-called “alternative” magazines refused to review an album that the editors themselves liked — all because they believed their tastes were more diverse and sophisticated than their readers.
I felt that, in spite of the popularity of the Grace Darling “singles” contained on the Doctor Death’s compilation CDs, the first Grace Darling album was nearly invisible. With C’est La Mort out of business, it looked as if our second album would be even more invisible. So, for obvious reasons, when it came time to write and record the final song on the album, I chose to name it ‘Invisible.’
The Bubble Song
(Simpson, Martino)
Instrumental
© grEGORy simpson & Val Martino
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the authors.
ABOUT THIS SONG: This is actually the oldest Grace Darling song in existence. It was recorded in 1989 during the very first Grace Darling recording session. At that time, Grace Darling didn’t have any real musical direction in mind. Val had answered an advertisement I placed for a “female vocal contortionist,” and absolutely blew me away. I knew we had to start somewhere and I wanted to see just what kind of “vocal contortionist” Val was, so I recorded a sparse instrumental piece and asked her to improvise over it. I asked her if she could “speak in tongues,” at which point she rattled off two whole tracks of indiscernible gibberish. I was amazed. I had her wail and caterwaul through six completely different vocal improvisations, which I recorded on my old Tascam 8-track reel-to-reel recorder and then mixed with the virtual MIDI tracks in Vision. I had to use my nose, ears, fingers, and elbows to create the composite vocal from these six tracks. This was in the days before hard disk recording and affordable automated mixing consoles. I had to rehearse these convoluted mix moves for hours before I could get a finished track.
The following week, when I played Val the track, she thought it sounded primordial — like a bubbling lava flow. I had chosen to accentuate the more atonal aspects of her performance — a fact that obviously didn’t sit too well with a talented vocalist such as Val. She named it ‘The Bubble Song’ and asked me to remix it and eliminate most of the atonal components. Bummer! It took another week to rehearse the mix movements required for the version you hear on this album. When Val heard it, she liked it much better but said, “it doesn’t sound like ‘The Bubble Song‘ anymore.” We never got around to renaming it…
‘The Bubble Song’ didn’t seem to fit on either version of the first Grace Darling album, so it was stuck in our “songs the world will never hear” file. I had forgotten about it until midway through the Invisible sessions. We had just finished arguing over ‘Walls,’ which originally contained a lot of complex atonal orchestration that Val did not like. I remembered ‘The Bubble Song,’ and how we’d had the same disagreement over its atonal aspects. I pulled out the master tape to listen to it. I was surprised how good it sounded so many years later, and how much it actually seemed to fit with the latest Grace Darling material. I was also amused that this first Grace Darling song used exactly the same recording technique I would later devise for Bartholomew Fair. It seemed as if the time had finally come for ‘The Bubble Song,’ and I remastered the more tonal version for inclusion on the ‘Invisible’ album (sadly, the original atonal version is long lost).
There are walls that hold me in
These soft walls are called my skin
Oh, when they fall, where will I go?
I’ll fly apart. I’ll scatter.
Walls that bruise and break and bleed
Aren’t the kind of walls I need.
I need them thick. I need them tall.
No one can scale these walls.
© grEGORy simpson & Val Martino
This song may not, in whole or part, be copied, redistributed, sold, or given away without the prior consent of the authors.
ABOUT THIS SONG: Like ‘The Bubble Song,’ ‘Walls’ breaks with Grace Darling’s traditional songwriting and recording method. Normally, all Grace Darling songs come about as follows: I hit on a musical idea, explore it for awhile, add some orchestration, then either write lyrics for it or give it to Val to write lyrics. We record Val’s vocals. I add some finishing bits of orchestration, and mix it.
‘The Bubble Song’ breaks with tradition because its melody line was improvised on the spot and it contained no actual words. Walls breaks with tradition because Val brought the lyrics and melody line to me — without me writing any music first.
She had a fairly traditional blues song in mind when she wrote the words. Unfortunately, it didn’t fit well with the sound of the new album, which was quite cohesive in its use of piano and “traditional” classical orchestration. So, rather than recording it as a standard blues song, I slowed the melody down and created a dense, atonal orchestration that would punctuate and reinforce the feeling in the words. Rather than writing more words, I felt the song should end with the same kind of light but melancholy mood that was permeating the rest of the album — only without any singing, since the haunting feeling of these two verses and the “bruised” orchestration would still be in the listener’s subconscious.
Val didn’t care much for the extreme atonality of the opening orchestration, so I softened it some for the final mix, keeping only those atonal parts that really accentuated the most critical phrases, such as “Walls that bruise and break and bleed.”
I’m not sure if Val cares too much for this song (since it’s so far removed from her original intentions) but it makes a lovely closing piece for the album.