“THE BODY CURE”
April 2024
Lovelies,
I used to write by running.
My writing process looked like this: I'd sit at my piano, trying really hard to write a song. I'd get nowhere. Then I'd take a break and go for a run. Three miles out, I'd hear it completed and run really fast back home to record before I forgot it.
You might be thinking, "Hey Rachel! How about bring your phone and make a voice memo!" But apparently that was some kind of thirsty. A recording device scared the songs away.
This process worked great! Apart from the slight issue that so many of my songs were mid-tempo (bpm of feet to pavement), I wrote a ton and had toned legs! But it wasn't great for my relationship to my body. Full disclosure, my relationship to my body was shoddy already. I found the body a terrible home and ignored it as much as possible meaning entirely. Yes, I exercised a ton, but for me it wasn't an embodiment practice. On the contrary, running was a practice of disembodiment. Or put differently, my embodiment practice was disembodiment.
As frequently befalls runners, one day I felt a snap. I urgently tried to find a new way to write songs. I more urgently tried to find a new way to practice disembodiment.
But life stepped in further. I received a mandate in the form of illness to embody.
Today all of this looks so different. I practice yoga every morning. The definition of yoga is that you don't multitask. Every once in a blue moon I'll spend a yoga class writing a song -- but I do so knowing I'm no longer practicing yoga. I'm stretching and songwriting. For the most part I practice yoga to practice how to sensually, forgivingly, and self-righteously have a body.
And my creativity is no longer relegated to a 50 minute workout. I create all day long. It's true that disembodiment made a fabulous conduit to creativity. But at a certain point I realized: I don't need a conduit.
Also now all my songs aren't mid-tempo.
With all my love,
Rachel
The next single off the upcoming (he promises!) David Hobbes album is the sweet as honey Beautiful Bee. My fondest memory from the writing process was Dave saying, "Well obviously it's not about a bee." And me saying, "I definitely thought it was about a bee." No worries, we switched gears and clarified. I'll think you'll find it's quite clearly a love song.
Thank you to James DePrato (guitar), Aaron Shaul (bass), Gabriel Shepard (recording), Reto Peter (mixing), and Ken Lee (mastering). I was a writer and produced. Also I did some piano playing and singing.
The second single off the new Kyra Gordon EP is the beautiful Tell Me And I'll Listen. I'm so happy to have produced and been a writer. I'm not sure what to say cause it says a lot all by itself. Ok this: I love the almost frightening purity of the sentiment. Utter love. Alongside an apex of a bridge. That was my favorite move, to let the bridge be the tantrum never had. Read more here.
Thank you to Brian Rodvien (drums), James DePrato (xylophone just kidding guitar), Daniel Fabricant (bass), Shaina Evoniuk (strings! yay!), Michael Rosen (assorted engineering), Piper Payne (mastering).
“NOTES ON BLISS”
March 2023
Lovelies,
A few years ago my work was divided in two: the service part (I taught piano lessons) and the creative part (I was a recording/performing artist). This is not to say there was no creativity in my teaching and no service in my artistry. Of course there were glimmers. But for the most part I served students by relaying my knowledge of Bach Inventions and Jazz standards. And I delved my creative depths in the words, melodies, and chords of my songwriting.
I'm well aware that my work has changed utterly. I'm more behind-the-scenes. I'm more of a leader. I'm more collaborative. I could list twenty things.
But something I hadn't considered is this: Now my service and my creativity are the same. Absolutely all of my work -- producing, songwriting, songwriting coaching, building creativity resource -- is more wildly creative AND more fully serving than ever.
As of this hour, I'm convinced THIS is why I'm so very happy. It's joyful to spend my hours reaching ever further into my creative capacity. It's meaningful to spend my hours serving those around me. But it is BLISS that they are the same.
To know the thing that is special in me is the thing the world wants from me.
I think creativity is innately generous. Artists are givers. We ache to hold in our outstretched hands the gift that is ourselves. And I think so much pain befalls us when we feel our creativity otherwise. When we see it as self-serving. Something no one wants. Something we promote into an abyss. It's like we're begging people to care about us, when all we ever wanted was to care about them.
Now that I've tasted this intersection of creativity and service, I wish it for everyone. I call to you to remember that every time you create, you are being generous. Please never forget the inherent generosity of your creative heart.
All my love,
Rachel
Tom Waits covers are my love language. I was so happy that Maurice Tani invited me partake in his reimagine of the epic, "Come On Up To The House." A neat connect between my 18 year old self subsumed by her first Waits album and my present day self making things in Oakland. With beautiful contributions by Tony Marcus and Mike Anderson.
I got to spend time in my favorite sanctuaries (studios) this month.
First, 25th Street Studios in Oakland, tracking the final background vocal for a 3-song Adam Alviso project. Except, oops!, turns out we're recording two more songs! Good news except you'll have to wait a little longer for these silky pop bangers.
Second, Tarpan Studios in San Rafael with Narada Michael Walden and vibrant young East Coast artist, Shaina Faith. It was so fun to peek into Narada's extraordinary production process and hear 2 of my co-writes come to life.
Here I am pictured with Shaina.
“HOME IS THIS WAY, SAILOR!”
February 2024
Lovelies,
Two times in my life I recognized a calling.
The first was when I wrote my first song. I thought, "This is what I do." The second was when I first gave a songwriter feedback on a song-in-progress. I thought, "I didn't know callings happened more than once in a lifetime!"
Stephen Cope talks about the small, still voice that, if we're super quiet, guides us throughout our lives. I love and connect to this concept. But I'll say, recognizing these two callings felt less small and still and more like the blinding flash of a lighthouse: "Home is this way, sailor!"
The first weeks of 2024 have clarified for me that I've now got a third calling at play. This one arrived not small and still OR lighthouse flashy. Rather it feels like something I've long known but forgot to notice. Actually, you gentle readers have probably noticed it too.
I'm obsessed with creativity.
OF COURSE this means songs. But more and more, music feels arbitrary. A perfect but circumstantial dance partner. Behind the veil of music is what ACTUALLY moves me: the alchemy of nothing into something. Of idea into form. Of experience into meaning. Of divine into incarnate. I capital L LOVE a song, but also I get the same hit from the shocking line break of a poem. Or the risky cut of a dress. Or the inspired choreography of a yoga class. I cry my head off at movies, not because I'm feeling for the characters, but because I'm so excited the director made those choices.
I think our callings are our life's work. Ever present in our soul's code. But I also love that they only make themselves available to us when they are good and ready.
I wouldn't have known what to do with this creativity calling twenty years ago. But now I can't wait to begin.
All my love,
Rachel
P.S. Don't be fooled! I don't know more than two things about playing guitar. But this guitar has some personal significance to me, so she gets a photo op.
P.P.S. Happy Valentine's Day love bugs.
Jay Clemens's second single, Falling in Love on Zoom, received national acclaim TWICE before it was even released! First it won FIRST PRIZE in the Great American Song Contest and then it was a FINALIST in the USA Songwriting Competition. Well at last it's streaming everywhere, so you can celebrate it, too!
I want to thank, as ever, my extraordinary team: Jason Slota (drums), Daniel Fabricant (bass), James DePrato (guitar), Omree Gal-Oz (piano), Evan Price (violin), Scotty Wright (vocals), Gabriel Shepard (recording engineer), Reto Peter (mixing engineer), and Ken Lee (mastering engineer).
And most of all thanks to Jay for having me along as co-writer and producer.
I started this round's Songwriting Salon with a discussion of POETRY MACHINE. That is: that songwriterly tendency to turn our ideas into passable lyrics before we even really know what those ideas are. It reminded me of this Songwriting Coach Video Series I devised a couple years ago. Perhaps I'll get back to that at some point. But in the meantime, please enjoy this and 10 other videos I made to help songwriters find their way.
I love working with the fabulous Kyra Gordon.
And I'm very excited to announce the release of her new single, Burn It Down, in anticipation of her 4-song EP, Traveler.
Something EXTRA cool about this project is that it's our SECOND! Maybe you remember our first outing, Kyra's debut album, Soul of a Showgirl. It's beautiful to reconvene after two years of expansive growth on both our parts, and LEVEL UPPPPP!!! Kyra's writing is as soulful and incisive AS EVER, but the new material afforded us the opportunity to explore new colors, new directness, and new reaches of her powerful voice.
It was an honor to contribute to the writing and to produce.
Read some backstory in this thoughtful article.
The origin story of We Are Wild reveals a lot about David Hobbes, about me, and about our relationship -- and I can't resist sharing at least an abridged version. In its first iteration We Are Wild was a silly thing about an amateur musician inviting his buddy to grab a mandolin and take the stage with him. But something about the music made me think it wanted to be so much more. I urged Dave to dig to find that part of himself that carried an invitation -- to an alternate life, a complex life, a DARK life. We had hilarious (at least to me?) conversations where I insisted he contained a sexy darkness -- his song was telling me so! -- and he'd do well to explore it. Then, naturally, Dave stopped working with me for six months. But fear not! Our hero returned! And with more delightfully sexy-twisted lines than I could have ever dreamed: "Every lover / Leaves a scar / Take the knife / Show me who you are / Hooray!"
Suffice it to say, an absolute joy to co-write and produce.