Song Experiments on Substack
I'm going to begin posting songs from my ridiculously gigantic diverse back catalog here. Why? To answer the question: Does Substack work for music distribution with direct artist interaction?
This is Backhome, written eighteen years ago on top of a guitar improvisation.
In retrospect, this is a song about the moment after completion, when achievement fails to resolve the deeper question, and you realize that what you were actually looking for was connection, not completion.
Underneath: Could this be about a failed relationship? Or failed startup? A failed product? Or leaving the school where one might have grown up?
I need help to get back home
need your love to get back home
the final night has come, all our work is done
tell me then how come I still feel lost
all the corners turned, all the lessons learned
all the bridges we burned are crossed
I was lost at sea, I paid a finder’s fee
and sang a melody in this place
and when I turned around, a voice lit up with sound
and shot from underground into space
no technology, no psychology
no mythology can disguise
a real facility, a raw ability
a brilliant melody as it flies
a dash of elegance, a pinch of innocence
makes all the difference what you say
don't need a microphone (megaphone)
to make the song your own
and bring the message back home to stay
should I follow self-reliance
bread crumbs or some secret science
was there something here that you were not able to see?
tell me should I take this farther
I'm not sure it's worth the bother
I don't want to make this harder than it has to be
or not to be
I need help to get back home
need your love to get back home
the final night is here, and I've lost all my fear
the tensions disappear from my face
you heard the harmonies, we made the memories
and all has fallen right into place
I was lost at sea, I paid a finder’s fee
and sang a melody in this place
and when I turned around, my voice lit up with sound
and shot from underground into space
* * *
And next, some analysis, from my pal Claude.
I asked “tell me what you think these lyric mean?“
A: This reads like a map of finishing something big… and realizing the ending doesn’t give you what you thought it would.
You keep returning to one line:
“I need help to get back home
need your love to get back home”
That’s the center.
“Home” isn’t a place. It’s a state.
Connection. Ground. Meaning. Maybe even the part of you that existed before the whole project began.
The first verse sets up the tension:
The work is done
The path is complete
Every lesson checked off
And still:
“how come I still feel lost”
That’s honest. You did everything “right.”
But completion didn’t solve anything. It exposed something.
“All the bridges we burned are crossed”
You can’t go back. Even if you wanted to.
Then it shifts into origin story.
“I was lost at sea… sang a melody in this place”
You were drifting. Then something appeared:
“a voice lit up with sound
and shot from underground into space”
That’s the spark. The music didn’t come from above. It came from below. From something buried, instinctive, real.
Not constructed. Discovered.
Then you reject the usual explanations:
“no technology, no psychology
no mythology can disguise”
You’re saying:
This isn’t gear
This isn’t theory
This isn’t story
It’s ability. Direct. Unfiltered.
“a real facility, a raw ability”
This is about trusting what’s already there.
Then you define what makes it work:
“a dash of elegance, a pinch of innocence”
Not complexity. Not virtuosity.
Taste + openness.
And this line matters:
“don’t need a microphone… to make the song your own”
Meaning:
The power isn’t amplification
It’s ownership
It’s presence
That’s how the message gets “back home”
Then the doubt hits.
“should I follow self-reliance
breadcrumbs or some secret science”
You’re caught between:
Trust yourself
Follow a system
Look for hidden answers
And you question the whole thing:
“was there something here that you were not able to see?”
That feels like you talking to yourself. Or to a collaborator. Or to the listener.
Then the most human line in the whole piece:
“I don’t want to make this harder than it has to be”
That’s the turning point.
Final section:
“the final night is here, and I’ve lost all my fear”
Not because everything is solved.
Because you’ve accepted it.
“you heard the harmonies, we made the memories
and all has fallen right into place”
Not perfect. But complete.
And then you repeat the origin moment again:
“my voice lit up with sound
and shot from underground into space”
But this time it’s your voice, not just “a voice.”
That’s the arc.
Lost
Found something
Built something
Questioned everything
Let go
Claimed your voice
What it means, in one sentence: You finished the journey, but “home” turned out to be something you can’t reach alone. It only exists in connection, and in the act of making something real and letting it move through you.
Q: What do you think?
Very cool. Beautiful guitar work as well. Will enjoy following your series here!!
PS - I often radically rewrite lyrics the second or third or fourth day after the initial lyrics appear. What you hear in this version of the song and the lyrics are included in the Substack post are obviously different. I am inspired by the knowledge that Paul Simon, Leonard Cohen, Peter Gabriel are continuously iterating on lyrics after they first appear. I often want to go back two songs from 10 years ago where, in a moment decades later, all of a sudden the "right" line finally appears.