Speakin' The Queens... Pt. 5

As the release date for my new album, "Queens English", approaches, I thought it might be a fun idea (if only for me) to try and maybe dissect the record here at the old Blog space. A bit of a behind the scenes look under the hood so to speak. Since I've always dug reading about some of my favorite albums track-by-track, I thought that might be an interesting way to approach. Eleven tracks in eleven installments? Can I pull it off without boring even myself? Got me. Stay tuned, find out and get yer furry, red boots on...

Track 5: "Camp Elmo" -

Becoming a parent for the first time is a pretty awesome experience. That said, I'm not gonna lie, as some of you undoubtedly know it's also a pretty terrifying exercise and probably one of the hardest things to wrap your head around. I mean the enormity of the event is fairly staggering. At least it was/is for me. From the beautiful nothing comes a beautiful something, and suddenly you're someones Mom or Dad with all the accompanying joy, privilege and heartache those titles carry. Pretty heavy weather indeed, but in addition to the existential connotations, the gig also brings with it some of the most intensive physical and mental punishment you'll ever experience short of a stint on a chain gang. As you stagger those seemingly thousands of miles of late-night floorboard, babe in cramping arms, your sleep-deprived mind also inevitably finds itself with far too many sadistic opportunities of the self-interrogating variety - What happened to me? How did I get here? Why is there poop on my sock?..

Safe to say "Camp Elmo" was born from the monotony and exhaustion of many a pre-dawn, soul searching moment.

Camp Elmo

Living here in Camp Elmo
And how we got here I don’t know
We’re building jungle gyms
And cleaning diaper bins
Living here in Camp Elmo…

Living here in Camp Elmo
The melancholy red Day-Glo
We used to drink all night
Now we’re up at dawn’s first light
Living here in Camp Elmo…

Don’t get me wrong,
It’s not Guantanamo
No heavy metal, late night drills,
Just one song
That plays on and on
And breaks my will…

Living here in Camp Elmo
Where hanging on means letting go
So trade in all your dreams
And sign up for the team
It’s easier in Camp Elmo

Living here in Camp Elmo…

Next time on "Speakin' The Queens...", no sleep 'till Brooklyn, yo; Track 6, "Angeline & the Bensonhurst Boy".