Throwing Muses

Our big, fat tour bus was sitting in highway traffic somewhere in the South. The kind of traffic jam where people get so bored and hot that they spill out of the cars to share cigarettes, conversation and thermoses full of Kool-Aid. We spilled out of our bus and parked ourselves on a guard rail to talk about endings. “We live in our future, so do we have a future?” etc.

You never know. A death doesn’t often announce itself, especially not the death of a band. When the Muses died, it was after a series of small moments: symptoms of impending doom, a closing door. Music didn’t care if nobody showed up at an in-store, but we did. Music didn’t notice a half-full club or a pathetic record company meeting, but we did. Music didn’t bother to show up for interviews anyway, so when there were no longer any interviews, music didn’t care. But we did. Like many people, entities, movements and energies, we had to go away before we were done. The music kept playing even after we’d stopped playing it.

Nothing’s ever perfect anyway; it never was and it never will be. How many eggs did you put in that basket? Well, who’s fault is that?

This song used to make me teary ’cause at one time, I had all my eggs in the Muses’ basket. Today, it makes me happy because I know the Muses will make it their own.

Love,
Kristin

Find this song and all my recent work, in multiple formats – including lossless, free for download on my CASH Music pages. Information on how you can support my work by becoming a subscriber is here.

More than one night up all night with a song and I sorta lose patience. ‘Cause the kids still get up every morning and the pancakes aren’t gonna make themselves and blinking sandpaper eyelids is distracting, to say the least. Then the song loses patience with me , thinking I’m never gonna get it right, and starts playing louder [Read more…] about Milan

The band I started when I was fourteen, Throwing Muses, never broke up. We never suffered “creative differences,” we didn’t get complacent and sucky; we’ve always adored each other and were driven to play good music together. But touring and recording both cost money and don’t always make enough to pay the bills, so eventually, we could no longer afford to work. Happily or sadly, we were at the top of our game when we made the decision to stop.

Songs don’t care how much studio time you can afford, though; they just keep singing themselves at you. And I know a Muses song when I hear it: intricate and dynamic, they’re easy to spot. When one came to me, I would learn it and then put it away. The Muses songs I’ve collected over the years had nowhere to go, so they just sat–on demos, in notebooks, in my head. There are dozens of them. Sometimes, I’d play them solo, but I knew better…they needed to be in the Muses’ hands. I just didn’t believe that was an option.

Now with the help of CASH and my Strange Angels, it looks like the Muses may work again. We’re certainly willing — breathless with anticipation, actually — and the songs are just as vital as I remember them. If this band that never belonged in the music industry could finally make music without the industry, it’d be a real coup. Bernie and Dave are hearing these songs for the first time here, when they’re posted and will be working out their parts long distance, Bernie in Seattle and Dave in Rhode Island. I’m in New Orleans, of course, so we definitely have some details to iron out, but for now, we’re just thrilled to be thrilled again. There’s nothing we love more than working.

This song, “Sunray Venus,” is the first in a series of demos that the band will be hearing, playing along with, tearing apart, etc. We can’t wait to throw it up in the air and let it come crashing back down again, falling into place as the dust settles. We love that.

Even at fourteen, we knew that striving for success in music was inherently tragic, as success in the music industry was, for the most part, ugly and devoid of substance. We still wanted to play for people, though, so we did. Our shows were crazy, magic parties where the listeners played as big a role as the musicians. Music happens between people. We never forgot that.

So here we are again, amazed by the power of listeners, making music happen between us. Thank you.

Love,

Kristin

P.S. — As usual, please share this music — keeping in mind that theses ARE only demos. Repost these songs, use ’em in podcasts or torrent them. Help us tell the story of what’s happening here. This is going to be a more comprehensive project and we need all the help we can get to spread the word. Strange Angel subscriptions will help ensure that the Muses project is brought to fruition.

Find this song and all my recent work, in multiple formats – including lossless, free for download on my CASH Music pages. Information on how you can support the creation and distribution of this music by becoming a subscriber is here.