Faux Jean is a singer-songwriter from Duluth, Minn. Each week he adds a new song to an evolving record series over on Bandcamp and writes about it here. “From the Mixed Up Files of Mr. Matthew T. Schindler” is somewhere between a fake newsletter and a faux press release for the eponymous wabi-sabi private label album series that continues to evolve over there. Thanks for checking it out.
My Dear Fauxs,
I have added a new song to the “Mixed Up Files” album and you can listen to it right here:
I recorded this idea in my bedroom in the year 2000 and have sat on it for 23 years.1
hmmm.
This song is about the suicide of someone I knew from Duluth.
I remember my Dad explaining that she had been rather stoic in her approach.
Hence the lyric “kowtowing to the party line of Cicero.”
Here are the lyrics:
She died not knowing
that her life it was going
to live forever in my mind
I'm alright knowing
she's kowtowing
to the party line of Cicero
away
Well she lived in a jail
and one of her own fashioning
with walls of reason
despair for a ceiling
though her logic seemed so fuzzy
I reckon I get it now
for she never pulled a trigger
without thinking about it first
No she never pulled a trigger
Without at least thinking it was kowtowing
she's kowtowing
she's kowtowing
she's kowtowing
to the party line of Cicero (or was it Cato and Zeno)
la la la
she'll live forever in my mind I suppose
Though the urge dear, was too great,
to bring it all full circle
and I know the feather trigger
had life left in her way
but she never picked it up without
at least first thinking
No she never pulled a trigger
Without at least saying "oh wait, I'm kowtowing
I'm kowtowing
I'm kowtowing
I'm kowtowing"
I’ve nearly gone deaf listening to this one.
For the record, I don’t even like the word ideate.
I remain your humble servant,
OX&C,
Faux Jean
P.S. Big ups to the folks who have gone over to the Faux Jean Bandcamp page and purchased some music. That’s pretty darned cool.
P.P.S. Die Leiden des jungen Faux Jeans is a reference to “The Sorrows of Young Werther” by Goethe in case you were wondering.
That could be because I am uncomfortable with the concept of suicide, or because the tempo is all over the place. Or both. Or because I stole some of the lyrics for this song and used them in another song.
Times like this, Substack needs a great big hug button.