Potential: Hurricane Relief Benefit

Cardinals at the Window, a 136-song benefit comp, is out today

Hello, my friends.

It has been a week, has it not?

Because I am an anxious person, I love to plan ahead, and boy, I had a lovely plan in place to deliver to you all one of my most favorite unreleased tracks from the If You See Me, Say Yes era. It was all ready to go, I had the essay typed up and everything, I was feeling good. And then—Hurricane Helene happened.

When the storm initially made its way through Western NC and Southern Appalachia, I was out of town, celebrating the wedding of an old friend. Because of this I was distracted and didn’t fully grasp the severity of the situation until I made it back home. First of all, I should say—I live several hours east of Asheville, so I was not in the path of this storm. But so, so many people I love have lost so much. It’s absolutely beyond comprehension.

So, with that said—I have made the decision to re-route my monthly Patreon submission to a benefit complication that has been hastily assembled to support those in need. I hope you all will understand and be as generous as you are able to be in support of this cause. Of course, I realize you are already being generous in your support of yours truly, so I’m working on coming up with something else fun and special for Patreon subscribers later this month. But, in this moment, time is of the essence, and supporting our friends in need has to be the priority right now.

A little information about the track, for context: It’s called “Potential” and was recorded during the sessions for If You See Me, Say Yes. It was recorded by Mickey and Chris Freeland, Mixed by Mickey Freeland, and features marimba by Rod Hamilton and pedal steel guitar by the legendary Susan Alcorn. I should say—it was never properly finished, and cut from the record before receiving a final mix, so this would have been considered a rough mix. It also features my very first, quite clumsy, attempt at playing the drums on one of my recordings (which is quite possibly why it didn’t ultimately make the final cut, ha.)

Listening back now, I can’t remember the logic that led me to choose to shelve it, although I’m sure I had my reasons. Or, at least, I really believed I did.

The lyrics are as follows:

tears before the window

and I could not believe my eyes

a single eyeful splitting

into a thousand rays of light

before my knees were bloody

from jumping free from points on high

standing three feet, seven inches

I did believe that I could fly

and if this is my true home

and even if it’s not

I should return to find you standing

with the key inside the lock

to me, that is potential

ashamed of being fearful

although the world has shown you how

but fear could never keep you then

and it will not hold you now

little baby brother

behind the corner waits to scare

I cannot calm my quaking body

even though I know he’s there

and if this is your answer

and even if it’s not

remember energy can travel from

a single forceful spot

to me, that is potential

Reading through these lyrics, it’s clear to me that the song has always been about the interplay between hope and fear, and the power of belief. It wasn’t the first song I’d write with those ideas in mind, and I imagine it won’t be the last. In the past decade-plus I’ve only become more fearful, more aware of the terrible ways in which life can surprise you, and allow the things you thought were solid and steady to crumble before your eyes.

It is chilling to witness the effects of climate change in real time, and to understand that these sorts of destructive, unprecedented events will continue. (Note—I wrote this two days ago and already there’s another unprecedented storm on the way in Florida. My heart is with those folks, as well.) We all know the culprit—the blame rests almost entirely with the fossil fuel industry, the unchecked greed of those in power, and all of the systems that are built to make sure it’s nearly impossible to live in greater harmony with our planet and each other. Watching one catastrophe after another unfold, I have to wonder—how much more suffering will it take for our fear of change to be overcome by the fear of what will happen to us if we do not?

Still, as ever, I see the stories of the people on the ground—my friends, my community members—showing up for each other. Bringing trucks full of water and supplies. Hosting folks who have been displaced. Putting their work on hold to focus on how to bring as many eyes and ears as possible to those who need our help. All we have is each other, as it turns out. And I hope, for all of the people whose lives hang in the balance right now, that that turns out to be enough.

The future has not been written, and we don’t know yet how all of this is going to play out. My binary brain often looks at the big picture and wants to go into “fuck it” mode—but the truth is that these things are not black and white. Our two choices are not “apocalypse” or “utopia.”  It’s all incremental. Putting too much pressure on yourself can be counter-productive—don’t overwhelm yourself with the expectation that you should be able to fix everything. You have one human life, and you can only contribute so much—but a little bit of progress makes our collective future a little bit better. You can’t save the world all by yourself, but you can show up for your community, for those in your immediate vicinity. And for those people, those lives you do touch, it can be the difference between life and death. 

At this moment, listening to this little baby version of myself, I’m trying to draw from whatever reserves of hopefulness were there, to shore up the ones that I still have left.

JW

PS. In addition to my contribution as Flock of Dimes, there is also an unreleased Wye Oak song on this comp, dating back (I believe) to the post-Tween, pre-Louder I Call era, if that’s your sort of thing. Honestly, the full list of participating artists on this thing is bonkers. Don't miss it.