Fruitful Life

by Jamison Murphy

Fruitful Life cover art
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about

The title Fruitful Life came from something that Will Cullen Hart, one of my biggest inspirations, wrote on an autograph to me. I set out to make the album in that spirit – creating and being fruitful. I’d like to thank all of the friends, family, and fellow musicians who helped out and gave their support.

Loving Things:
I started this song as a sort of hymn to creating things, with much simpler lyrics, but it ended up with elements from the Tao and other things I was reading at the time. Musically, I wanted a dreamy sound, and the church organ really works with that.

Athens, Jamais Vu:
This song is about a panic attack I had in Athens, Georgia, quite a few years ago. The experience, combined with the city itself, had a profound effect on me, which culminated in this song. This marks the first time I've worked with someone else on a recording; fellow Savannahian musician Anna Chandler contributed a haunting and wonderful vocal track.

McCauley Park:
I originally recorded this as an hour song, which is, you guessed it, a song written and recorded in an hour, but I liked it enough to keep working on it. The end result wasn’t radically different, but it’s a bit more polished, keeping the kalimba and ukulele. Lyrically, it’s quite simple; it’s about the summer in which it was written, when my friends and I would often roam around the neighborhood, chanting and making a general ruckus.

Krazy 8:
I often get a rush of ideas very late at night and wake up hating them. This song is one such idea, only I later ended up liking quite a bit. It’s about an episode of Breaking Bad (undoubtedly the most brilliant show I’ve ever seen) in which Walt keeps captive and ultimately kills a drug dealer, Krazy 8, and deals with the moral consequences. Also, the David Foster Wallace quote is entirely intentional.

Furey:
This song is based on “The Dead,” a truly amazing short story by James Joyce, in which the main character, Gabriel, has an epiphany when he realizes his distance from his wife. I love all of Joyce’s works that I’ve read, but this one has a particular starkness that really resonated with me. The piano at the beginning of this song plays the melody of the bridge of an earlier song, Athens, Jamais Vu.

Monastic Love Song:
I go through periods in which I believe rather heavily in asceticism, and this song is the product of that, just the idea of withdrawing to a monastery. I owe a particular debt to Van Dyke Parks, one of the big influences of this album, on these lyrics, as it’s the first song where I’ve experimented with wordplay. I originally wrote this on the piano, but I preferred the autoharp, envisioning something in the vein of 60s pop, with a kind of carnival vibe as well.

At the Tabernacle:
I’ve always had a preoccupation with religion, the distinctly southern idea of religion, the kind found in Faulkner’s and O’Connor’s characters, in dilapidated churches full of intense belief. This song is a sort of prelude to the next.

Holy Spirit Jive:
I’ve wanted to do a song like this for a long time, a sort of freak-out, the hell-vision alluded to a few songs ago. It’s mostly a depiction of intense, nearly supernatural fear, with the Dante and Gita references as well as more personal symbols of the valley of death and bomb under the water. The preaching section had a direct influence of enraptured sort of preaching I’ve seen. Musically, I was thinking of Charles Mingus, particularly his extraordinary record The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady.

For Gail Hightower:
I based this song on Faulkner’s Light in August, specifically on Gail Hightower, a preacher who is haunted and trapped by the history of the south. I felt that it was a good end not only to the religious side of the album, with Hightower’s disillusionment, but it also creates a sort of cycle to the album, going back to the initial organ chords.

Cover photo by Anslee Wolfe
Copyright 2012 Jamison Murphy
Recorded from June 2011-April 2012

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released 04 May 2012

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Track Name: Loving Things
Let me find a place where the earth is depressed
Once I’m there I’ll take my rest
And brush the roots of passing trees
As loving things come unto me

Let me find a house and I’ll paint it haint blue
Hang lotus flowers from the doors of each room
And Hangman, lock them as you leave
As loving things come unto me

And everything that carries shade
Embraces sunlight in its ways
Death’s strong and stiff, but life is sweet
As loving things come unto me
Track Name: Athens, Jamais Vu
You know that feeling you get
Between the stadium and the drop?
Well, it's like that now
In this insignificant restaurant

Saying the names
Of all the people that I love
But I don't recognize them,
Just feel the foreign syllables on my tongue

Athens, Jamais Vu

Shivers run down my spine
As I snap back into focus
The Lumpkin Street cars
Are like plagues full of locusts

And the image replays
In my mind over and over
It's like a bad trip
But I'm perpetually sober

Athens, Jamais Vu

The skies above Clarke County
Are invariably red
I look through the arches
Like the Oslo Bridge

Athens, Jamais Vu
Track Name: McCauley Park
Let’s go out and let’s rove tonight
Let’s serenade the streets
Pluck the wisteria from the vine
As we pass the places we used to know

Passing through McCauley, we are free
In circles around the leaves
And we’ll chant on Atlantic Street
And create, or only dream
Track Name: Krazy 8
We rolled into the driveway and parked your tomb
But you woke up, mostly dead from the fumes
With your clothes hanging off you and your mouth open
Walking through the suburbs when I put you in the back of my car

And you and me, down on the basement floor
Talk about your dad’s furniture store
As the last few drops of pink liquid
Seep from the ceiling to the floor’s depressions

The different ways we’re confined,
What’s in your lungs, what’s in mine,
Intersecting briefly

You say this isn’t the business for me
But this is not the business for any living thing,
To be the life support for self-destroyers
Buzzing in their systems as they wander the motels

Cut the crust off your sandwich on the yellow plate
Bound together in these petty, unsexy ways
I fall down, thinking why I shouldn’t kill you
As you watch me, holding the shard in your hand

The missing pieces that make up the soul
And the feeling of pulling your head against the pole
With everything left in me
Track Name: Furey
I am not a painter, but I wish to be a speaker
Up above the drunks and rabbit eyes
Formed by six shriveled hands to this shape,
I will hold on to it until I die

But Furey died for you in the cold
While I just burn here
With nothing to hold

I sleep in my coffin
And wake up for nightly soirees
I keep myself busy through my middle age
But I’m well aware of my fate

And Furey died for you in the cold
While I just burn here
With nothing to hold

The tenor’s in the piano room
Singing some old air
And goddamn, what you do to me
When you’re standing aloof on the stairs

And Furey died for you in the cold
While I just burn here
With nothing to hold

We ride home in the dark
They must think you’re some mystery
All these things that no one knows
Are the things that are sacred to me

And Furey died for you in the cold
While I just burn here
With nothing to hold

When I get the strength to ask what’s on your mind
You tell me of your lives that came before
And every word you say tears through me
And takes my human form

And Furey died for you in the cold
While I just burn here
With nothing to hold

I wish I could bring someone down with me
Or let someone drag me, unafraid
But the snow sets the living at place with the Dead
As I become a shade

And Furey died for you in the cold
While I just burn here
With nothing to hold
Track Name: Monastic Love Song
In these walls, I am pure and again infantile
I rise to the clang, kept awake by Earth’s trials
Lookout on the plain, hell-visions of industry,
I harmonize with the hum of their agony
All my days here

I came up from the city with strikes on my heel
Not to well up with self on impermanent wheels
But to stay safe from those who are driven by will
South of Knoxville , unmoved by a jar on the hill
In its complete power

In our June, all commune with a charioteer
Trip hard on the spirit each way it appears
And channel these dreams under the Banyan
Inversions and feels of what’s up in the canyon
As it comes around again
Track Name: At the Tabernacle
At the Tabernacle, we will be the first ones saved
Set your sites upon the Lord, but do remain afraid
The devil, he will find you in complacency
But I will never die if I love something

Decaying pews and pulpits in our sanctuary
From where we took up serpents in our ecstasy
And if I must believe, give me a wild faith
At the Tabernacle, we are whole and safe
Track Name: Holy Spirit Jive
Should I walk with Virgil
Into the valley of death
I will write, “Bless this place” on each wall

But I’m not a stoic,
Half pilgrim, half poet
Write it in ashes on my forehead

Take me down to the river
I will be made new
As bombs go off under the water

And the sky is on fire
When I come up for air
As I ascend to the right hand
Of a dying god

My savior’s arms
Are just like needles
Ready to pierce anyone

Because even His grace
Can burn the eyes clean
Of all the seers
And serpents divine
Track Name: For Gail Hightower
Study window frames the street,
The monument, the maple trees
Filter through

Until salvation cycles back,
Watch the rugged old signs crack
Beneath the weight
Of the lamb

This land already had its fall
With ground that’s stronger than my call
Could ever be

But I can’t separate these things
I’ve been living deep in Calvary
Outside Jerusalem’s walls

There’s strange solace in my house
Where the blackened blood runs out
And all are pure

But in the last bent light of day,
Grandpa rides in, high and grey
Shot down
Beside the white chickens

Drawn-out organ chords emit
Any signal of new covenant