Jaimee Eat World

Let’s Disappear

A couple of months ago, I was driving across Canada, hoping to start fresh in Vancouver, B.C. I know it’s kind of an artist cliché, but for a lot of reasons, I’ve always wanted to move west, and I was beyond ready to make that happen for myself. The odds of it working out were stacked pretty heavily against me, but I decided to run with the idea anyway. In the worst-case scenario, I would end up driving right back home, so there wasn’t a ton to lose here other than gas and hotel money, and maybe a bit of pride, but I’ve never put a ton of stock in that anyway.

Before I left I put together a big playlist – 49 hours worth of music, a bit longer than the drive would take, ensuring that I wouldn’t have a ton of repeat listens throughout.

The streaming platform I was using had other plans. I shelled out a few bucks for the month to get the Premium subscription for the drive even though I’m staunchly against the concept of subscriptions. No matter how much the tech world keeps trying to force it on us, you can’t convince me they are sustainable. Plus, everything that appears relatively cheap always comes at a great cost somewhere down the line – in this case it’s smaller indie artists and the consumer that takes the biggest hit.

Now, what I mean by the platform had other plans is that despite having paid for the premium service which allows you to listen ad-free and is actually supposed to play the songs you ask it to instead of pushing you into it’s own algorithm, it wasn’t really doing that. I had 49 hours of music, but I’d be surprised if this thing played through more than 10 hours of it.

The songs began to repeat on day 1.

Among the tracks that the platform deemed most critical for my attention was Episode IV.

Here’s Jimmy Eat World’s original recording:

Indeed, static does prevail here. After the second helping of Episode IV, I knew it was the song I wanted to record next.

There’s no real logic to the order I’ve been re-recording these songs, I go purely off feeling when there’s a lyric or a sound that speaks something to me in the moment.

I’ve heard Episode IV more than a handful of times, but something was really catching me this time.

I love when the band lets very simple quiet guitar lines just sort of meditate in the background and the stark contrast between Tom and Jim’s vocal ranges has always been a major attraction to me with this band. Without really trying, this dynamic choice always pulls me in and makes me want to sit put until it’s over – and it did every time it squeezed its way back into rotation on my playlist.

I find Static Prevails one of the more sonically interesting albums because of the way they play with quiet space in it; I’d even argue they are one of the bands that understands how to approach this best. Lyrically it’s kind of unintentionally funny while also being completely endearing in its assumed sincerity. Plus, While Tom and Jim sound young and less confident vocally on this record, you can already start to hear that they’re onto something and it wont be long before they really dial it in.

Anyway, the gentle guitars and contrasting vocal play wasn’t really what was gripping my ears this time; It was those funny lyrics.

Like a lot of the bands early songs, Episode IV is a little disjointed and it can be kind of tough to figure out exactly what they’re talking about. Once you’re willing to accept that they were young and still figuring out how to piecemeal verses together in a sensible way, it’s easier to focus on the bigger picture of the story.

“Let’s disappear, we’ll take a trip of no return to outer space,”

I had been planning my trip out west for years only to be met with obstacle after obstacle before deciding I didn’t want to accept the obstacles. In as many ways as I was sure that I was moving towards something rather than running away from something for perhaps the first time, there was still this nagging part of me that felt like I was doing this to disappear from my old life which had gotten increasingly challenging and frankly lonely in recent years. B.C isn’t outer space, but it was far enough away that I felt I’d finally find some peace there. I didn’t intend on ever coming back.

“We’ll dance off time to the songs we’ve never liked
And sing off-key, thinking it sounds all right,”

Thoughts like this have been a driving force of the last few years of my life. Being worried about how I sounded while I was figuring things out or what I looked like was something that I always felt held me back as a kid and this carried well into adulthood. When I started to share this project, that was really a big turning point for me because I had to embrace the ugly parts of this whole process and allow myself be heard before I necessarily wanted to be heard. I would never make any real progress if I kept what I was doing all to myself.

“And you know, I almost lost my will to live”

More times than I am proud of. More times than I could even understand when it was happening.

Sing Off Key

I didn’t want to try and match the tempo or feeling of the original. Instead, I opted to bring it into a bit more of a pop-rock atmosphere that was more excited than melancholic to match the way I felt about starting anew.

I also wanted to to be more conversational, treating verses as different people communicating across a vast distance and with one signal slowly degrading over time. This was a little tricky for me to sort out in the mix stage, but I hope it comes through alright.

My Will To Live

Back in B.C when I made my way into the city of Vancouver after 6 long days of driving, I felt this huge relief. I took Dakota to the beach on the first day we arrived, excited to show him the place that had given me this grand idea and that I was so sure was the right place and time for us to move forward. We walked across the sand to the ocean to feel the water. Chillier of course in October than when I had been in town a few months prior, but refreshing. Even the air smells cleaner in Vancouver; Compared to Toronto, I swear it’s like your lungs are getting real oxygen for the first time and it feels so good.

This feeling was fleeting.

We’d brush off the sand and leave again in just a few days.

It shouldn’t be a sad realization, but as Episode IV found its way back into the playlist rotation on day 1 of the drive home I knew that for whatever reason, I wasn’t quite ready to disappear from the world I’d left in Toronto, but I was ready to get back to the only thing that always seemed to matter more than anything else – music.

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Thanks for reading & listening. This has been Episode 1. Come back next week for Episode 2 and be sure to subscribe to the blog to get it directly to your inbox.

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And as a friendly reminder, while this is a not-for-profit project that I welcome you to enjoy without fear of subscription costs or paid-only content, I am actively running a fundraising campaign in support of CAMH. If you’re interested and able, you can make a donation directly as part of the Crooked Forest team on the official fundraising page here.