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#SoundCloud #The Griffith #semi-acoustic

A raw demo from a night's writing at the the Burberry Sessions. Thanks to Alex Urevick for releasing this.

#tracks

Get the album.

Cursed be time,

The chronophage,

But Bless this child of lesser age.

And think on,

The song of Blake,

Just as the song the Riverbird spake:

"The wild winds weep

And the night is a-cold;

Come hither, Sleep,

And my griefs infold:

But lo! the morning peeps

Over the eastern steeps,

And the rustling birds of dawn

The earth do scorn.

Lo! to the vault

Of paved heaven,

With sorrow fraught

My notes are driven:

They strike the ear of night,

Make weep the eyes of day;

They make mad the roaring winds,

And with tempests play.

Like a fiend in a cloud,

With howling woe,

After night I do crowd,

And with night will go;

I turn my back to the east,

From whence comforts have increas'd;

For light doth seize my brain

With frantic pain."

I watched a boy at a crossroads, his feet on the very edge of the water and his mistake floating a few yards out. The worried contemplation of the child would have been comical to any onlooker, but to the boy this was no small matter. We decide who we are going to grow up into with small moments like the one before him, but he couldn't have known that now. He just wanted his ball back.

She couldn't have known just how much she was taking from him. She didn't care to let herself wonder about such things. He should have suspected what she was up to. He should have known that the folk on the Glenndale train were not the only ones to be robbed that afternoon.

All it took now was the clack of the tracks to take him back to that day and that warm view from the caboose of the train, that view of her waving goodbye. He waved back, disappointed if not also a little frustrated with himself for allowing himself to become just another character in her story, even if it was a good one.

#tracks

Here's what some friends have been up to. This is a song I genuinely enjoy- right down to the candid ease of its lyrics. I cannot wait to see what else is coming down from their way soon. Anticipation. Swaguary. Hosts.

-aw

The whisperings. The waiting. The postulating. The pretexts. These are coming to an end. We are being proactive and our next project is truly coming to fruition. We have all taken great pains to make sure that what we produce is the best that we are capable of and that each song is both necessary in itself and necessary to the album as a whole. We have re-written, and we have restarted.

Intentional creation. That is our focus. That is why we must sharpen our craft. We hope you will see why very soon.

So here's the deal. We're coming out with a mixtape. It's coming in seven days. Seven days... This mixtape can only be distributed through email so if you really want it please send your email to us at [email protected] so you can be among the first to get it. And you're going to want to be the first because these tracks are only going to be available to download for seven days. Seven days...

And don't forget: once you get it, pass it on. Send it to your friends and family. Share the free love!

Mixtape. Coming Soon.

Rys by The Griffith

[Song recorded by: Jonathan Baylor, Josh Johnson, and Allen Wilson]

[Photo by Spencer Cross]

A dedication to Rys, a muse of the hills and valleys.

A legend in all of Ahpulaxaea, she wandered the mountains composing songs on her stringed yuti, forever mourning the lost of her newlywed husband to the ill-fated bite of a copperhead snake. So inspiring a musician was Rys that her strumming gave rhythm to the streams and her humming pitch to the wind. It is said that the mournful tune of her elegies brought the trees to yield the colors of their leaves in sympathy, and entire forests would shed the ground with tears for her sake. Yet, transfixed by her loss and forgetting her own youth, she carried on in this way until the end of her time.

Since then, it has always been the tradition of the Tinahksy people to inscribe her songs upon the bark of yellow poplar trees. In this way Rys still lives on, a friend of an ancient culture, a muse to the lonely bard, and a reminder of both life and death- of the past and of things to come. And the trees still change in memoriam.

-aw

#tracks

Still Holding On

Greetings folks. Just wanted to make it known to anyone who was wondering, we ARE still working on our summer recording project. But it seems to be more like a fall/ winter project these days. Yes I/ we realize that it's been awhile, but I believe with the more time put into something brings a stronger outcome. We hope whatever comes from this season that you find something about it to enjoy. Until then, make yourself comfortable somewhere, sip a nice cup of tea or coffee, or whatever your heart desires, and read a good book. Also, listen to some great music!

DL

An acoustic cover of "Kids" by MGMT, filmed in a dorm room late one autumn night.

"Unraveling" Live at HeBrews

#tracks

"Letters" Live at HeBrews. video courtesy of a friend.

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