I wrote this song for the passing of my Grandpa. He was kind of a crank but not really. He was really just a worrier. We were close. When I was a sweet but difficult teen I was made to spend Saturdays with him doing yardwork. I think my family just needed a break from me. But it worked. He, a fusser, would fuss and I, a chiller, would chill until the whole thing would soften and we'd put down our shears and have an ice cream soda. He drank Diet Sprite, can you imagine that?
I was walking down Bushwick Ave the week he passed and in the accelerating engine of a truck I heard the first two chords. I rushed home and tried to tease it out on the guitar. The words came slowly slowly slowly but I kept plugging away. I wanted to show that time is cyclical but it's also linear. Every death is a new beginning but it's also just death. I must have written the verses sixty different ways.
At one point I was working as a sound recorder on a video shoot. We were interviewing a billionaire about his daughter's rare disease and all the money he had given to make it go away. In between takes I was scratching away at my moleskin trying to work out the song. Eventually the producer came by, "What are you, writing poetry?" and I was just like "... yeah."
Is and was and ended and had been and beginning again
A leaf on a branch through winter and the fall
that has nothing to give to the spring
Swim past the breakers with me
Swallow the sea
Be freed from the tug of the things that we love
Awake and asleep, asleep and awake again
and passing away
Rise up, oh ocean, come crashing in waves
Only rhythm remains
from Prestige Pictures,
released June 8, 2023
Isaac Gillespie - Vocals, Guitars
Ian Davis - Vocals, Guitars, Synth
Grey Albert - Bass
Michael Riddleberger - Drums
Written by Isaac Gillespie
Recorded by Sam Owens
Mixed by Jacob Blumberg at Mason Jar Music
Mastered by Alex Saltz at APS Mastering