Caedmon's Dream

"Straight and True" album dissection, Part 1: CAEDMON'S DREAM
You can buy this song here: http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/straight-and-true/id370407821

Caedmon was an illiterate shepherd who lived in the 7th century AD. Right away, this sounds like perfect fodder for a pop/rock song, doesn't it? But there was more to Caedmon than his 9-5 job. Unlike the other shepherds, content with growing rambunctious off of honey wine and slurring songs around a campfire, Caedmon was perpetually restless. Cursed with a voice like a bullfrog and an inability to remember lyrics, he would go off and sleep with the animals as his co-workers threw their hymns to the sky. It was very vague, this restlessness, but it was persistent and made Caedmon constantly on the lookout for grand revelations and epiphanies. This went on for years. His hair thinned, he grew a paunch from eating inordinate amounts of goat-based dairy products, and he largely stopped caring about the source of this restless feeling. His flock meandered in the same pattern every day, and he would liken his thoughts to these animals: born, wandering, and dying with no particular goal having been reached.
One night, like many others, he went to sleep while the others sang hymns to God by the fire. Crickets were singing. The moon was humming in a register that only a half-asleep human ear can detect. And something began to happen. With this organic symphony ringing in his dozing ears, he opened his eyes and saw letters, then whole sentences, and finally a complete poem being inscribed in the sky. Caedmon cleared his throat. Assuming that whoever was behind this dream-revelation forgot that he was illiterate, he waited for a holy voiceover to fill him in on the poem's contents. Seconds later, roaring into song, a voice began to intone what he assumed was the poem that was emblazoned on the heavens. Over and over, until the sun began to peer up from the hills, this divine melody was sung for Caedmon as he lay sleeping in the grass.
Caedmon awoke with this song stuck in his head. Attempting to rid his mind of the by now obnoxious melody, he went through his daily routines. Morning ablutions. Stale crackers. A large mound of goat cheese. But when he got to his flock, he grew dizzy and short of breath. Unlike other mornings, when the animals were sporadically placed around the pasture, they seemed to be standing in two perpendicular lines. They were all staring at him. Goading them to move, hollering in tones that he figured sheep would understand, he became increasingly creeped out by their fixed gazes. This is when he decided to climb a tree to call for help, despite the fact that his co-workers were most likely nursing intense mead hangovers. This day had positive and negative aspects, for Caedmon. Unfortunately, what he saw when he climbed the tree gave him such a shock that he tumbled from the branches and fractured his arm. Fortunately, though, what he saw also convinced him to ignore his shattered limb and to run and tell the Monks of his dream the night before. For the sheep had formed themselves in the shape of the Cross.
The rest is, quite literally, history. The Monks assured Caedmon, somewhat jealously, that he had recieved numerous signs from God. He took his monastic vows, became the poet laureate of the monastery, and this illiterate shepherd with the bullfrog voice became more like a saint. Furthermore, he ended up creating a song that outlasted all of his co-worker's drunken campfire hymns. He left the world one of the earliest examples of English language poetry. This poem is the very same one he recieved in his dream that night.

In other words, I wrote this song in order to describe the genesis of my own fascination with songwriting. I think of it as something that can wrench me from the tedium of daily life, that can afford me communion with meaning and significance, and that has the potential to inspire other people. These are the underlying principles of my attempt to bring The Flood into the public eye, though eventual riches and superstardom will be welcomed as added bonuses. I figured this was a good song to open up the "Straight and True" album with: to lay my reasons for writing the damn thing on the table from the get-go, and then leave the listener to determine whether or not the album lives up to these aspirations.

Thanks for reading, and be on the lookout for the next installation of the "Straight and True" album dissection: the title track, STRAIGHT AND TRUE.

Our Gift to You

I’m sure that you’re all extremely excited when presented with the opportunity to read our blog and discover our secrets. As you should be. We have lots of them and they are juicy. And how could we deprive you of full access to our souls, you who came to all of our shows, bought our t-shirts and CDs, and danced with us for weekends on end? You have all been so generous with your money and support that, besides furnishing you with many (hopefully) enjoyable evenings, we are going to give you something extra: our wisdom. Sound like a raw deal? Understandable. I, admittedly, suffer from a rare disease called “PBR-itis”. This makes it very hard to form complete sentences when I am onstage. So I understand if you thought this blog was going to be less than eloquent. Let’s see if I can be any more clear.
Think of yourself as my wife. All of you imagine that we have entered into holy matrimony. Tied the knot. Done deal. I could do one of two things. The first option is to rest on my laurels and completely ignore you. The struggle is over, you’re a fan of The Flood and you will be a fan for life because we’re fucking amazing and that’s just how it is. I could never buy you Valentine’s Day presents, never say “I love you”, and neglect you in the bedroom. You’re already my wife and I have you under my spell. Meanwhile, you grow incredibly lonely and begin to dream of the grocery store clerk. Your mind begins to wander. Our holy union begins to dissipate because I am lazy and do not recognize that affection is, by nature, fleeting.
Or, I could try to spice things up. I could cover our bed with rose pedals one night, just to show you that I’m still unpredictable. I could leave you little notes that say “<3” all over the house. In the tupperware. On your vanity mirror. You get it. The only way to make affection stay is to nurture it. To prove that it is warranted, that it will be reciprocated, and that I want to stay in your life forever.
This is why I’m introducing a special series of Flood Blogs. I am going to take apart our “Straight and True” album, song by song, and attempt to explain why it exists, how it came to exist, and the assorted events surrounding its birth. I hope to display the true power of this album with my wizard-like exegetical skills, and this will be my gift for your loyalty and attentiveness. Sound like another raw deal? Understandable. Nevertheless…
The first song will be Caedmon’s Dream, which is also the very first song on “Straight and True”. Stay tuned.