"Reclamation" - March 16th, 2018

The Explanation of "Reclamation" (hey, that's fun!) 

This Friday, we'll be releasing "Reclamation," the third single from our third album.  It's an extremely important song for me personally, which is why I've been sharing the story behind it leading up to its release.  So the story doesn't get lost or buried, we figured it could live here.  If you'd like to give "Reclamation" a listen, you can find it on Spotify, Youtube, iTunes, and pretty much anywhere else.  And now for the story, in three parts, and a fourth for the lyrics:

Part I

This lake [the aerial photo below], and specifically the island in the middle, is the setting for our next song. I’ve hiked around these woods for years, often to work through anxiety or clear my head (I call it my “regeneration forest”, as our song, “Regeneration” was largely written during a hike around this spot). These woods also awakened me to my own mortality. About four years ago, on a hike alone, I fell through the frozen lake. This has always been my biggest fear, and for a moment, I thought it was going to take my life. As I panicked in the freezing water, that island, the nearest bit of land, became my beacon of hope. I used whatever strength and feeling I had left to break a path through the ice toward it until I could pull myself out. I was lucky to make it home that night, but I was changed. The new song is partially inspired by this experience.

Part II

This is the artwork for our latest song, coming very soon! In the center is the island I pushed toward after falling through the ice (for those who read the last story). If you look closely at the middle of the lower half of the picture, you’ll see the faded image of a crashed vehicle, which leads us to the second story behind the song: 

About five years ago, I was driving home from a show at a local venue at around 3am. I had been going through a rough stretch, and was having trouble sleeping—I was filling every second I could with activity to keep my mind from ruminating. The exhaustion caught up with me—about ten minutes from home, I fell asleep. I opened my eyes to see my car heading straight for a telephone pole, with about a second to react. The collision was inevitable, but I somehow managed to cut the wheel enough to hit the pole with the middle of the car. Miraculously, the pole snapped, and my car bounced back onto the road as sparks flew from the falling power lines. I was completely unharmed, with just a scrape from the seatbelt on my neck. I got out of my smoking car in disbelief and fear. When the EMS arrived, they took a quick look at my car and asked, “Where’s the body?” If that pole hadn’t broken, or if I hit it in any other way, there’s a very good chance that crash would have taken my life. I learned two major lessons from that event. One: never drive when you’re drowsy—loud music and open windows aren’t enough to keep you awake and alert enough to be on the road. Two: life is such a delicate thing—you never know how long you have, so live it the best you can doing what you love (as long as you don’t love driving drowsy).

Part III

Here is the artwork for "Reclamation." This will be the fourth installment of the “Recollection,” “Reflection,” and “Regeneration” series (or as we call it, the Re—tion series), which have been my most personal songs. The lyrics to “Reclamation” took over a year to write, and forced me to face something I never wanted to admit to myself—that depression and anxiety are a real and persistent part of my life. 

For years I tried to fight it, never accepting it—believing that if I accomplished the right tasks, or wrote the right song that I could beat it forever. I saw it as a weakness I couldn’t admit to having. When I would be going through particularly dark stretches, I would think back to the time I survived falling through the ice on this lake, or making it out of the car crash alive and wonder, “Why did I survive those near-death experiences if this is all I’ve become?” But that feeling doesn’t last—it comes and goes like a passing storm. 

In the song, I try to capture what depression feels like for me—like I’m trapped, isolated, and robbed of feeling all the good life has to offer. It was only recently, during our residency in Maine, that I realized I have to accept depression as a part of me and learn to live with it, rather than fight it constantly and silently. It’s not something to be ashamed of, or something to hide. It doesn’t make me weak—in fact, I realized it’s my biggest muse. I write songs and poems to work through my depression—each time I finish a piece, it feels like I’m extracting that fear or frustration and bottling it up to store on a shelf—preserving it, but getting it out of my head. 

As much as this explanation makes the song seem like quite the downer, I consider it a happy release of something I’ve hidden, even from myself, for years. I wrote this song for myself, but it’s my biggest hope that anyone in a similar situation may find some peace in it.


Part IV


Caught, I've lost, all my love 

Bound, unwound, all my lust 


Sometimes I wonder if that car was supposed to take my life

And when I fell through the water, were my lungs supposed to fill with ice? 

All that I've ever known, I've learned but never grown 

I'm never gonna be found, 

All my love


Dust, torn up, all my trust

Drowned, pulled down, all I've found 

Fight, find light, for this life 


Sometimes I wonder if that car was supposed to take my life

And when I fell through the water, were my lungs supposed to fill with ice? 

All that I've ever known, I've learned but never grown 

I'm never gonna be found, 

All my love


Sometimes I wonder if my worry's gonna drown my flame

And when my chest starts to tighten, will I always find myself to blame? 

All that I've ever shown, false face and broken bones

Feigning my strength as I fall 

All that I dream to hold, waits for a truth untold 

I'll never know where I'm bound,

But I'll be found