“Richmond” - a song about lassitude
las·si·tude
/ˈlasəˌto͞od/
noun
a state of physical or mental weariness; lack of energy.
Story Pairing
Just want to be up front and say that Richmond is a fine enough place and by no means does this wilting tune reflect on the place. A song like this lives more in a state of mind rather than a physical place. It’s just interesting how feelings latch on to a pin drop and make you feel an echo of that when you pass by. It’s like looking out the window at snow and ice. You are in a warm house or car, but you can feel a whisper of that cold sting. It’s just a memory, but it has a shard of its original power as long as it exists.
This is a song that sprouts from the word “Forget”. I was pondering how to work that into a song as I sat at a hotel in Greensboro, NC and nothing was coming to me. I had gotten in to town a day early for a show, and all my friends were busy, so I had an afternoon and evening just sulking around being antsy and thinking deeply. You find that happens quite a bit when traveling solo. Even on a great day, and maybe even more so, when things start to settle in the evening and you see the crowds disperse into groups, and then pairings, you notice the space around you differently. Often in these moments when the space around me is vacant, I grab my notebook and try and go somewhere to watch a place close.
What I mean by that is I try and find a business, often a restaurant or common ground, that will be closing in an hour or so. It’s an interesting, dare I say fun, thing to watch. It’s best to just give an example.
The night this song was written, I walked over to a mall. There was one that shared the parking lot with the hotel that I was staying at, and it was only going to be open for another hour and a half. The shared parking lot was pretty empty, but I walked the perimeter to get a better visualization of the different vehicles and play the game in my head where I try to picture the person who drives each. Once in the mall I went straight to the food court. I hadn’t had dinner, and a guilty pleasure is just about any of the asian kiosks. Tonight is was the Thai spot, and mainly because she roped me in with a piece of chicken on a toothpick. If I was a fish, it would catch me every time (that is with the hopes it’s a catch and release situation). I ordered, sat down at a table within a cluster of emtpy’s, with my back against one of the support beams, and I breathed it in. My cheap Thai food, but more so the sounds and sights of a place closing. There were people rushing to grab that last item, teens soaking up the final minutes of freedom with their friends, stores pulling down their metal coverings, a janitor pushing one of those giant brooms that make me think of a muppet, workers leaving that must have dodge the “closer” bullet, announcements with ever dwindling time left statements, background music being turned off with relieved sighs, sounds of new sneakers on old tiles, last minute shouts for free samples, trash cans being emptied and reset, chairs dragging out and up to rest.
Every place has its own unique fingerprint when it comes to closing, but they all close the same in the end. That final light-switch and turn of a key. The lights and switches and locks all look a bit different, but they all mingle in some way in those final breaths.
It was in a closing food court in a mall in Greensboro, NC that I wrote these words. I finished it just before the loudspeakers said “The mall is now closed, please make your way to the nearest exit”. I took the lyrics back to my hotel, ordered a gin and tonic at the bar, then went up to my room and introduced them to my guitar.
Song Structure
capo 6
Verse: C / G / F / C / C / Cadd9 / F / C / G / C
Chorus: Am / F / C / G / C / G / F / C
*Originally it was capo 5, but the key of F always feels a touch harsh.
Voice Memos
Notebook Page
Nov 2024
Lyrics
Just another hotel, this time in Richmond, VA
Just another night spent sipping on gin all alone
Gray bartender says, slow down son that will kill you
Mind your business old man, at this I'm a seasoned pro
He just chuckles and says, I got some medals to show you
You ain't the only one who ever made a run at this game
You think slinging sad drinks to suckers like you was the end goal
You think I never wanted someone to know my name
I said tapster, I'm not here for your story
I'm here to forget one, pour me something strong
and in silence, he hands me a wet glass
I add him to the list of people I've done wrong
The empties stack up so there's finally company
They don't say too much, and that's fine by me
That's when she walks in to a bar that sits barren
Saunters over to where I was resting my feet
Her perfume is one far from subtle
It's needy and clawing at my mind
She whispers, you can buy me a drink now
and for a minute, we can have us a time
I said lady, I'm not here for your story
I'm here to forget one, you can move along
and in silence, she heads for the exit
I add her to the list of people I've done wrong
I pay my tab, leave a tip as a sorry
Stumble past a crying woman just outside the door
Search my pockets for keys and a distraction
I hang my head up to the 4th floor
On an unmade bed, there sits my guitar
It scolds me by shifting out of tune
Says in these strings, I have something to tell them
If you listen I can save at least you
I said Gibson, I'm not here for your story
I'm here to forget one, not to sing a song
and in silence, I close down the last latch
I add me to the list of people I've done wrong