Tag: rock

  • Body

    This song began on February 2, 2025, the second day of FAWM – February Album Writing Month, a worldwide challenge to write a song every other day totaling fourteen songs by the end of the month. I had just rediscovered fawm.org when signing up and found that I already had an account from 2015. Here I was nearly ten years later attempting it for the first time.

    I was traveling by van in Tasmania. I drove out to stay the night near a small town called Evandale, where I was going to meet an artist named Kier Stevens for an interview the next morning. I found a lot near a small river where people camp their RVs overnight. I got there, walked my things out to a little gazebo and made myself a camp meal – lentils, rice and tuna, pretty standard camp cooking throughout my time in Tassie. Afterwards I took a seat at the edge of the gazebo facing out towards the road, played guitar on my camp chair and watched the sunset. The melodies and words came all at once. By the time the sun went down I had worked out the changes, melodies and most of the words.

    The next day I did the interview with Kier in the park. On the fourth I recorded the original demo – I was staying with my good friend Josh, who rented a room with two beds at a little bed and breakfast up in Ulverstone on the north coast of Tassie. While he was off working during the day I set up and recorded the demo in the room, playing his 1950s jazz guitar and trying not to sing too loudly.

    Original Demo:

    The most recent demo came at the end of that visit, already into March. The bones are from the original but if you listen to them back to back you’ll hear some differences – new layers, new vocal takes, guitars, programmed parts, percussion, drums, synthesizers. Most of what came after the Ulverstone recording was done in the van, most of it in one very cold night where I felt a massive burst of inspiration and stayed up till the sun came up just working on this tune. It was too cold to play guitar so any ideas that came into my head I would program with the keyboard on my laptop. By the time I was done, the sun had risen so ferociously hot that I couldn’t sleep! That was rough on the body. The most recent mix was done on the plane flying over the Pacific in the middle of March on my way back to the US.

    I wasn’t able to balance the FAWM challenge with traveling, living out of the van, doing interviews and gigs and other recordings. All in all I think I only wrote three songs that month. This was the first and the best of them.

    The song is about something I was feeling at the time – that I needed to get more into my body. It’s been a lifelong pattern for me to spend so much of my time either focused on external activities and pursuits or otherwise internal. I am a very mental person. I spend a lot of time in my thoughts. At times I feel like my body just hangs from my head. I take care of it with basic maintenance, I try to eat well and sleep when I can, but the serious thoughtful intention I put into my body is a fraction of what I put into my thoughts, my creative pursuits, my skills, my travels, my studies, my people and so on.

    A more specific realization at the time of writing this song was that I was coming out of a period of maybe five or six months where I was deeply concerned with mortality – exploring the philosophy around death. I read several books, listened to hours of lectures, interviews and podcasts, and wrote about half a dozen songs concerning death and mortality in one way or another. These thoughts go in waves for me, something that has come and gone since I was a child, but this was a particularly deep and productive time. I feel I managed to move the ball forward. I was sitting quite comfortably with the topic by the end of it.

    But the thing I felt most strongly by the end of it all was simply this: I possess the antidote to any concern, any worry, any fear around death. I am alive. I have a body. I am a body. All that rumination, as useful as it may be for writing songs and gaining perspective, is not really all that productive in itself. What if every hour I’ve ever spent worrying about death had been spent instead just focusing on what I can sense, on being truly alive, engaging directly with life in a visceral way, using all of me and not just the words sounding silently in my head.

    I believe my death does not concern me. The only thing I should be concerned with is life. And so this song is a manifesto, a meditation, a reminder – to be present, to seek presence and stay present, to seek comfort and fullness within the body as it is. Not to get too carried away with the external or the internal dialogue.

    It’s been a year since I wrote this. I’m still largely concerned with the externals and the world of my thoughts. But I have felt much more at peace within my body in the last year. I guess the declaration stuck.


    “Body”

    I’ve been running from the void
    What did that bring?
    But sickness of mind
    And so much long lost time
    I will ditch my bags
    Try to sit still
    I’m not used to being in my body
    I’ll get used to it

    Body heals itself
    Unlike mind
    Which left unchecked grows sick with time
    And I got used to it
    Now I want peace inside

    In the body
    Coming home
    Take some time find peace inside

  • Maytag Land

    The song was mostly composed, arranged, and recorded within my van amidst travels down to Los Angeles in February 2026.

    The song began from a Reddit prompt: “Write a song about the happy land where socks are escaping to. But try to write it in a minor key, and add some twist.”

    It’s rare that I write from a prompt but I always appreciate prompt writing for pushing me to write something that otherwise most likely never would have been considered. It provides a kind of safe distance from what I’m writing – I don’t have to feel too attached. It’s a pure creative exercise with just enough structure to give me a direction and enough flexibility to be creative within it.

    I found this particular prompt interesting and a bit curious. I struggled at first to find an approach that made sense to me. I started writing about the many socks without pairs I’ve got in a drawer and a few other things that felt too concrete. Eventually I removed myself from the story and focused instead on it being a sort of recruitment song – from the socks to the listener. As I wrote those lines I started to view them as refugees, escaping a harsh reality to a place outside of time where they will not be used and abused, ripped up, chewed up and thrown away. For the darker twist, I wrote that there’s only one way in and no way out.

    As a jumping off point I started from visualizing the laundry room at my house, which was once the studio, but now the cat room with, like the song says, litter boxes and a catio door.

    This is an example of a song where I essentially wrote most of it away from the instrument. I started with the lyrics and then began to hear them set to a melody. The majority of the melodies were composed without even touching a guitar – I sang them into a voice note while driving. It was my second night on the road, waiting out a storm near Bakersfield, where I was set up in the van working out the melodies and harmonizing them on guitar.

    I had no concrete idea for a musical arrangement at that point. I kind of imagined it being arranged for piano, or sort of toy piano – almost like a song that would be in a children’s show. But ultimately the song took on a more straightforward guitar and vocal arrangement. The melody was set before I even touched the guitar though. There are several different movements in the song and everything was driven by this changing melody.

    Here’s the response I got from the Redditor who gave me the prompt:

    “This is GREAT! Cool 70s-like sound, carefree and well-done lyrics! ‘Join us in the dryer and shut the door behind you’ 😅 And the dryer sound in the end. A fantastic choice. Thank you for making my prompt into something so nice! 😊”

    I gave them a counter prompt in return: Write a song that tells a story in reverse chronological order – starting with the end, then the middle, ending with the beginning.

    I’d like to do something with that eventually. But for now, here’s Maytag Land.

    There’s a place
    Down the hall way
    Past the litter box and catio door

    A magic space
    There’s only one way
    In and no way out

    Where all is warm
    And all is fluff
    Theres treasure there
    And softness in the air

    Everyone’s an individual
    Not a single pair
    And you can join us there

    In Maytag land
    Come join our clan
    We’ll throw a sock party for you
    Be one of us
    We are not lost
    We have each other

    Just get into the dryer
    And shut the door behind you
    Those socks, you thought were lost?
    We’ll reunite you
    The bills and coins that disappeared are waiting for you
    Your guitar pick?
    We got that too
    You can play a little doodle loo

    In Maytag land
    Come join our band
    We’ll play a sock party with you
    Be one of us
    Join our chorus
    We’ll sing together

    La la la

    In maytag land
    Time sits still
    We don’t grow old
    And don’t grow holes
    Never stepped on never trashed
    Never ripped up by the cats
    We’ve left the cold hard world behind
    And we can’t go back

    Come join us in the dryer
    And shut the door behind you

  • Acaso

    Acaso

    From the March album – originally written Fall 2023

    “Acaso” came together during one of the most emotionally intensive periods of my songwriting life, built around a piece of music I’d been playing with for years. It was 2014 when I returned to the states after over a year of traveling abroad – this was a piece I’d begun playing on the road but finalized and decided to dedicate to the San Gabriel Valley suburb where I grew up. I called it “Temple City Theme.” Here’s a recording of the piece I did with my friend Stephen Reed (of the brilliant band Xinxin) on drums:

    The Songwriting Challenge

    “Acaso” was written in fall 2023 during the first round of a new songwriting group led by Tim Bulster (of Tiller of The Moon – check out The Songwriting Mind episode with this talented musician). We committed to eight weeks of writing a song per week, recording demos and sharing them with the group. This became the first of four challenges we’d complete between fall 2023 and winter 2024.

    Here’s “Acaso” as originally submitted to the song-a-week group:

    (Original demo recording)

    Back in 2017, my childhood home in Temple City had been sold and my parents separated at long last. The anchor that had tethered a broken, unhappy family was finally cut loose.

    “Acaso” became my reflection on that time and process – from a free life on the road to returning “home” to serve my family through this transition and see them through to the other side. Eventually leaving to find new homes where the search and quest to claim spaces for ourselves continues.

    Here’s the version released with the collection of songs “March” performed live in my living room.

    Video:


    The unknowns been good to me
    Much better friend than certainty
    I traveled long and I traveled far
    Found myself across the world
    Now I got a call I been waiting for
    It’s time to go back home

    Hey it’s okay
    To finish what you started
    It’s run its course
    I know we’re all exhausted
    Don’t fret we’ll be alright
    This days been coming all our lives
    No more tears no more fights
    Just step through the door
    Gotta go back home
    For the last time

    At home I got a role to play
    Our folks are going their separate ways
    It got so bad they can’t speak
    Their voices move through me
    It ain’t fun but it’s gotta get done
    If we’re gonna move on

    All packed up and I’m the last one out
    Last chord needing cutting was this house
    Where we were born where we grew old
    What stood between us and the cold
    This broken home is all we’ve ever known
    But it’s time we close the door
    We’re gonna find new homes

    Every video, every recording and every day is a fresh experiment. From the album “March 2024” available on Bandcamp and all streaming platforms. “March 2024” is a collection of songs that reflect my life and travels. Recorded across various states and continents, the sounds and images for the album cover a span of six years and 11,000 miles.
    https://linktr.ee/ericprincessdragon

  • Gutter Baby

    In all my travels, never have I met a gnarlier bunch of traveling folks than the “gutter punks.” I once got off a bus in New Orleans and immediately got heckled by one across the street yelling, “Hippie! Give me money!” Hitchhiking around the U.S. and Canada, I met quite a few – jamming, sleeping and hanging around on the streets, trying to catch lifts along the way.

    Inspired by people I met on the street around Montreal, Humboldt & Mendocino counties, this song is an amalgamation of stories I’ve heard from these folks, some of my own experiences traveling, and some inspiration for a happy ending from someone who made it out from the streets into a “normal” life.

    My first demo for this song was completed in January 2024 as part of a song-a-week challenge. Though most of it was written then, some of the lines go back to a dusty notebook I filled around 2014-2015 when I was hitchhiking around the states real heavy. I was looking for notes for another song when I found these words. I scrapped most of what I had written then, but the core idea was there – the story of a “Gutter Baby.”

    Just a baby
    Fourteen years old
    Scared to go back home
    Take your chances
    Hiding in the streets
    And learning to survive
    Starting a new life as
    A gutter baby

    Find some punks on the street
    Who take you under their wing
    They get you high and teach you to get by and you start traveling
    In every new town new trouble with the same struggles
    You graduate from the bottle to the pipe and to the needle
    Oh gutter baby
    Gutter baby

    Gutter baby
    Rabid on the street
    How did the world forsake you
    Gutter baby
    They got you hooked
    Hooked on poison hooked on violence
    Hooked on crime giving every reason
    For them to jack you up
    Gutter baby

    The cops know just who to fuck with when they spot you on their beat
    They’ll take any excuse to pluck you off the street
    They don’t care whether they lock you up or drive you to the edge of their town
    And they know that no ones gonna trip if they beat the shit out of
    A gutter baby
    Gutter baby

    Not a baby
    You’re growing old
    With dreams of your own
    Done with trouble
    All the drugs and drama
    All the death and all the trauma

    You leave it in the past
    You’re cleaning up your act
    You’re going to be a dad
    Now you have yourself a chance
    To give a love you never had
    A baby
    Your baby

    It ain’t easy to build when you’ve been beaten down
    And thought you’d be the next young punk to end up in the ground
    You’ve been cast aside abused and brutalized and didn’t know why
    But all the pain and trouble means nothing when you look in those eyes
    And see no struggle
    No fear
    No struggle
    Just a baby