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Pieces

by Jess Hill

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1.
Capsized 03:53
Capsized
 The season is coming up towards a change 
It’s a gamble to say it, but I still feel the same
 Stop rolling the dice, baby, Stop counting cards 
I’m the windfall to get you out From between a rock and something hard And even if that’s just a lie
 I would be the last one
 To leave you 
Capsized

 The season’s coming up towards a change 
It means a lot less sunshine 
It means a lot more rain
 But if you’d stay, if you’d close the door
I promise I won’t let the wind teach me
 His sad songs no more
 And even if that’s just a lie 
I would be the last one
 To leave you 
 Capsized
2.
I Was Wrong 03:47
I Was Wrong

 The ceiling stares at me 
Through the window 
Streetlights glare at me 
And I know, that they’ve known all along 
I was wrong
 Still nothing, But the time on these hands, Understands 
Why I’m not crying 
Even though my hearts trying to move one, Nothing’s wrong It’s just a shadow
 It’s not a ghost 
My heart ain’t haunted 
No, not even close 
I’m not standing around
 Pacing holes in the ground 
No I’m singing and tapping my toes

 Tell me why are all of my 
Favourite songs so sad? 
Tell me why do they make me feel good instead of bad? When the ceiling stares at me
 Through the window
 Streetlights glare at me
 And I know, that they’ve known all along 
I was wrong
3.
It Don’t Matter 

My favourite coward 
My sweet sheepish grin
It don’t matter where we run to now 
If we can’t forget about where we’ve been I run to the mountains 
I run to the sea 
In and out of the arms of new lovers and Closer to the sound of these strings

 You may have a habit Of slamming into things
 Just to feel that shiver up your spine
 But I’ve got a history 
Of loving love that don’t last too long
 Because I feel more alive when I pine

 So run, run to the mountains 
Run, run to the sea 
In and out of the arms of new lovers
 And closer to the sounds of these strings

 My favourite coward
My sweet sheepish grin 
It don’t matter where we run to now 
If we can’t forget about where we’ve been
 I said it don’t matter No, it don’t matter
4.
Pieces 03:49
Pieces

 I put my voice in a jar
 It’s not likely you’ll hear it from where you are 
I tightened the lid 
I keep it well hid 
Under ground and in the dark 

And these blue eyes of mine 
You’ll see they’re easy to hide 
In a matchbox or two
 They blink and dream of you
 While they go out to sea on the tide

 Oh, these lips
 They’ll only kiss
 The ink that you’ve left on this page 
In an envelope bound for nowhere
 They cope, knowing the secret was saved 

But my heart
That’s the harder part
 Not so easily contained
 To put a ship in a bottle 
You have to dismantle
If you hope to assemble the same

 And pieces can go missing
 Yeah, sometimes, pieces go missing
5.
In The Other Room

 He’s singing in the other room
 Every phrase paraphrasing gloom
 The volume soft and low 
No one else around

I like to hear wind chimes and 
 Traffic noises filtered by
 The beauty of his sounds

 Every breath a treasure Every pause a piece of gold 
I’ve been out panning 
He’s been digging holes 
Seeking out a melody 
For every word our mouths 
Cannot bare to hold
 We are hardship and handkerchieves 
 We wear our hearts stitched to our sleeves 
And without a word to share between us
 We hum ourselves to sleep
 Every breath a treasure Every pause a piece of gold 
I’ve been out panning
 He’s been digging holes
 Seeking out a melody
 For every word our mouths
 Cannot bare to hold


about

Nostalgia can be a beautiful thing. The warmth generated in one’s heart by memories of bygone and idealized times feels like nothing else in the spectrum of emotion.
As a songwriter I sometimes feel my work is about building little altars for moments. Every note, every silence, every beat is an item placed just so, to pay homage to a memory, a dream, a feeling, an idea.
Time passes and then – assuming the works are good enough – the moment is archived and that wistful feeling swells in my heart, but so many of these poetic, structures of reverence get lost for a time.
They sit, unknown in the muse’s attic collecting dust and humming quietly to themselves until life decides either by fate or circumstance to make them relevant again.
I always have a desire for songs that bare a kinship to one another to live in the same archive, spinning out their days into old age. So certain tunes get set aside and nearly forgotten. It’s hard to sometimes imagine what “being present” means when I realize I am on stage playing a song I wrote when I was 23 years old. Yet, every time I find that music can truly be transportive. A 6th sense as integral to our memories as the olfactory world.
Such is the story with the 5 tunes on the Pieces EP.
5 songs all penned pre Orchard, between 2006 and 2008.
A time when I lived in the basement suites of tree lined streets in East Vancouver.
A time when I broke my own heart with assumptions and insecurities, and then felt it heal and swell with curiosity.
These songs and the archiving of them return me to my first blushing attraction with the art of songwriting and music. They stand together and remind me that my heart still breaks and I still heal and feel full of wonder and love for this life.

credits

released March 5, 2013

Jess Hill - voice, acoustic guitar, electric guitar
Jesse Gander - percussion, bass, pump organ, guitar solo
Tim Tweedale - pedal steel, trumpet
Khari McLelland - harmonies
Scott Bell - duet vocal

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Jess Hill Vancouver, British Columbia

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