now to receive all the new
Tyler Lyle creates,
5 back-catalog releases,
delivered instantly to you via the Bandcamp app for iOS and Android.
You'll also get access to
This morning (it's still technically morning for another five minutes), I rode my bike with my girlfriend to her office near the beach- I returned some library books in downtown Santa Monica- I stopped at Urth Cafe for a poached egg and couple chapters of Bob Spitz' Beatles biography. I rode down the beach, I stopped at a coffee shop for tea where I responded to e-mails. Today is my day off. On the days that I don't have to work, I see the world like it's a fish bowl, and I'm the proud owner of it. I ponder the fish, the cleanliness of the water, the reason for there being fish in the first place. On the other days- the days when I am banging my head against a studio wall trying to make smart words fit to catchy melody (or sometimes- any words fit a passable melody)- I'm exhausting the mental self while ignoring the physical. Those days I am a fish in someone else's fish bowl.
While at the coffee shop, I heard a man screaming full volume into his cell phone about an unfair business deal. Then, I saw a car honking for no reason at a bike rider safely in the bike lane. Both times, I traded indignant glances with others in the coffee shop (other fish bowl watchers).
On days that I am the fish however, when stalled traffic on the 405 paints a patchwork mosaic of death ten lanes wide and ten miles long, when the line in the supermarket can't get any longer and no one is opening new lanes, when the restaurant accidentally charged your card twice for dinner- I am the screaming man. I am the honking driver. I am the loaded gun.
I think that the best we can do is decide to remind the fish self what the fish bowl watcher self knows- time is short, how you treat people matters, that every moment and every situation is an opportunity for transcendence (even on the 405), and that I am, and that you are lucky, profoundly, mind bogglingly so. Our lungs need oxygen (which just so happens to be floating in the air for us to breathe), our bodies need water (oh look- it comes from the sky and collects on the ground), our eyes need light (I think you know where I'm going with this). Motion, intertia, time, consciousness, memory- all gifts- from whom and for what reason remains to be seen, but I'm thankful for days off so that I can remember how rich this world is and how freely it gives.
All this to say, thank you. I get to do what I love most as my job, and It's directly because of your love and support and money.
The only way music can continue is if people support it. This is my thank you gift to those who have enjoyed it and championed it. It is free (Simply put $0 in the "Name Your Price" section). If anyone feels like giving, it will help fund the release of my upcoming 7 song EP, and is appreciated, but is not expected or needed.
If you like these songs, they are all available on other albums on this website for purchase.
released June 28, 2012
Zach Williams- the album cover image was cropped from the show poster (zachthedesigner.com)
Thomas Lockwood- All around bad-assery (violin, mandolin, resonator, back up vocals)
Shalom Aberle (Jan) and Jim Hedden (May) for being behind the board at Eddie's Attic and making my fumblings sound like music.
I've included some photos- mostly used without permission Kevin Ihle, Peach Benitez, Micah Williams, Peter Murry, Jonathan Waters, Emily Butler- thank you. If this is a problem, I'll send a formal apology with lots of money attached.
Eddie Owen from Eddie's Attic gave me a career, and a stage to call home. Now he's at Red Clay Theatre. See you there in the fall?