DISCLAIMER: This one is…challenging. It might actually be un-remixable, I’m not sure, but I did feel like it might be worth sharing since it’s one of the most complex and interesting things I’ve ever written.

I had written a very long description explaining away some of the defects in the recording and it occurred to me that it was relatively unnecessary. These vocals are not dry, this is from my early recording days when I didn’t know how to do things properly, and basically I *can’t* take the effects off now. It’s mostly reverb and echo though, and it kind of goes with the creepy atmosphere of the madrigal.

(I do promise that the Yeats poem and the extraordinarily long pause do make sense in context and this is one of the few times I will ever tell people to take a look at my myspace page if you are having a hard time understanding how in the hell this could ever work)

I wrote this either while I was reading or right after I finished Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. That book stuck with me quite well, and I adore it. It is in 3/4 and in the key of E minor.

Lyrics, because God knows you probably won’t understand them in the pella:

There are bells in this forest
and the night gets so lonely.
This room is full of strangers;
still, I hear your singing.
Their flowers and candles
are withered and melting,
this dance is so empty,
without you, I’m helpless.

Step lightly my love
within these walls, these halls
are haunted by the ghosts of insects
and strangers and traitors
who sooner would take up their knives and
slit their own throats
than be counted up amongst their victims
as one of us again.

We smile over our teacups
and laugh with our mouths closed.
We never offend, though:
innuendo is our strong suit.
These cockroaches creeping,
soon our feet are covered.
We’re playing with their souls now
like marbles and cards.

—-Where dips the rocky highland
—-of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
—-there lies a leafy island
—-where flapping herons wake
—-the drowsy water-rats.
—-There, we’ve hid our fairy vats
—-full of berries,
—-and of reddest stolen cherries.
—-Come away, O human child,
—-to the waters, and the wild.
—-With a fairy hand in hand
—-for the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

He’s so overbearing
and this dance is neverending.
I’m dizzy and retching
as I tumble to the floor.
All eyes are on me now,
Oh God, what do they want?
They’re pushing and they’re shoving
and I’m going down…

Step lightly my love
within these walls, these halls
are haunted by the ghosts of insects
and strangers and traitors
who sooner would take up their knives and
slit their own throats
than be counted up amongst their victims
as one of us again.

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"The Souls of Insects"
by jacindae

2009 - Licensed under
Creative Commons
Attribution Noncommercial (3.0)

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