JULY TENTH, TWO-THOUSAND NINE
KUPPAJOE ALL AGES NIGHTCLUB
FRESNO, CA
~ Andrews Del Mar ~
1. The Martyr
2. In My Bones
3. The Minute Hand
4. Take It Back
5. Absolute Stunner
6. Gather Me Up
This, first, foremost, and entirely, is a story of a boy.
For sake of simplicity, let's call him "A."
Through a journey of six songs, Andrews Del Mar tells a story about "A." Not
the story, mind you... this doesn't go all the way to the very beginning (although some might say it does), and, when the last chord is struck, it certainly is not the very end. But stories often have to come to a close, and rarely are all the characters dead and gone at that point, so you have to imagine in some way that they continue on, without you, and without a narrative to guide you along their continued path.
But that's neither here nor there, is it?
So. "A."
He's just like you, really. Or me. Or any one of the hundreds of people you claim to know and be "friends" with on Facebook. And, at the beginning of our story, he's about to embark on a journey.
It's the thrill of a newly-formed relationship [The Martyr]. You know: that initial connection, that desire to be with that person for hours and hours, to know everything about them, what they're thinking, what they like, what they desire, what they despise. Desperate to find anything about them to attach yourself to them in some way. And, furthermore, willing to sacrifice yourself for them, at a moment's notice; to give without demanding anything in return, illogically, even. This is where "A" finds himself. But it becomes repetitive. It's the same requests, the same desires, the same prayers; all is routine, nothing fresh, nothing original. But still, even in that black-hole of blind emotion, he feels his love [In My Bones], or, at least, imagines he does. Maybe it is just blind faith. Maybe the feelings are honest. Maybe, just maybe, he can't trust himself anymore.
And then, a catalyst. Time shifts, as does the ground beneath "A"'s feet, and something has gone wrong [The Minute Hand]. Suddenly, made aware of the mask of perception he's sacrificed himself to, he realizes that his desires for the relationship in no way reflected the truth of the situation, and that, if he wishes to correct his mistakes and misgivings, he must do so with haste. Unfortunately, his blind allegiance to a love he could not accurately comprehend has already caused enough damage as to unhinge the reality he was so desperately holding onto. In fear, or foolishness, or both, "A" lashes back, violently. Regretting all that he had experienced and all that he had felt, he attempts, fruitlessly, to expunge it all from his memory, his mind, and his heart [Take It Back].
When he emerges from his vicious breakdown, alone, "A" finally has an opportunity to quiet his mind... but instead, he turns his attention back to the (former) object of his affection. However, as the dust settles, it allows "A" to view the situation in a new light, with new eyes [Absolute Stunner], and his analysis is vastly different than any he would have made previous to his time of suffering. Here, he sees the faults and failings, and, furthermore, is finally able to acknowledge his own... yet, at the same time, he realizes that what is still to come is the downfall of his love, and that he must bear witness to it, helpless to intervene or halt the process.
This is the lowest point of the valley.
And, from here, "A" can do nothing but climb, again. Back up.
Such motions, forward again, can only be made once time has been spent waiting, broken, helpless. "A" realizes this, finally, and starts to collect all the pieces back together [Gather Me Up]. In this state, he realizes, and rightfully so, that any further movement cannot be made solely on his own volition. He'll need help, and assistance: a guide and a navigator, a seer and a stronger shoulder to lean upon. His steps will be more articulate now; measured and careful, calculated and precise.
Hopefully.
The problem with beginning to walk again, ultimately, is like that old rule about motorcyclists. You know, that there are two kinds of people who ride motorcycles: those that have crashed, and those that are about to crash.
There are two types of people who walk this path that "A" finds himself on.
Those that have tripped and stumbled.
And those that are about to stumble again.
But, the journey! Oh, my God, the journey! You must come see it. You must see it to believe it, "A" would tell you...
...and if you desire to come along, than see it, you absolutely shall.
