Ekstasis published a chapter of my narrative poem, Evening Song!

To see it formatted correctly (the line breaks are meaningful!) flip your phone on its side, or read on a computer.

I’m wildly proud of this chapter and of the larger poem. After finishing the work, I set it to music (i.e., made songs out of it). In this specific chapter, Maggie explains how she turned out to be a religious person in a time and place where that is a fairly strange thing.

For people who love poetry: yes, this is in blank verse. For those partial to prose: you can read this like any other piece of writing—one of the appealing aspects of narrative poetry. The lines are there, though, should they catch your eye.

I read some excellent books this year. I thought I’d share thoughts on just a few of them.

Aeschylus’ Oresteia, translated by Robert Fagles

There’s an interview with Fagles where he talks about studying Pope’s Iliad, being taught it was more than just an ad hoc translation; it was its own great, lasting work.

Fagles translation of the Oresteia easily fits that description. He was an incredible poet.

The Goodbye-Love Generation / Kori Frazier Morgan

I knew my friend Kori’s book would be good. It’s the best novel I read this year.

It follows the people of Kent, Ohio, from just before the era-defining KSU shooting to the present. There are many brilliant aspects of the book, one of which is that the shooting is not its focus. The people of Kent (those alive at the time and those born since) are the focus, and this elucidates the shooting in a way a history of the event itself could not.

Kill 'Em and Leave: Searching for James Brown and the American Soul / James McBride

Part bio of the greatest entertainer and creator of funk, part history of the poor southern communities that raised him, and part biography of its author (McBride agreed to write the book, pitched by a huckster, after his wife left him and took their money with her. McBride needed the cash.)--this book should not work. And yet.

Finally, I’m reading some Ted Hughes and came across his poem “Childbirth”. There are interesting parallels between birth, as it’s described by Hughes, and the moment of Jesus’ death in Matthew’s gospel.

When, on the bearing mother, death's

Door opened its furious inch,

Instant of struggling and blood,

The commonplace became so strange

There was not looking at table or chair:

Miracle struck out the brain

Of order and ordinary: bare

Onto the heart the earth dropped then

With whirling quarters, the axle cracked,

Through that miracle-breached bed

All the dead could have got back;

...

Highlighting our song "Margaret" today, which tells the story of a very cool and unflappable single mom-to-be who throws her own baby shower.

To explain my compositional process, I wanted my guitar and harpsichord parts to be reminiscent of the classical era. That is to say, I wanted elegant, graceful voice leading for this elegant, graceful Margaret character I stumbled on. The lines my bandmates added, which I love (some of my favorite playing by Will, Dan and Mike), reminded me of 50s ballads, and that, in turn, prompted me to write the antiphonal backing vocals that Ashley sings so well. (For you lovers of Greek lit, the backing vocals are supposed to act as the chorus) My bandmates' parts also prompted me to switch to electric guitar, which enabled me to dial in the early rock n' roll tremolo. Previously, I played this one on a cheap classical acoustic guitar.

Alone at Waverly

We're pleased to share "Alone at Waverly", a track from our upcoming album, Small Comforts.

Like John Prine’s “Hello In There”, our “Alone at Waverly” tells the story of older people. It’s somewhat of an homage to friends of mine, including a retired teacher. Lyrics are below.

Alone at Waverly / Eric Krewson

I live alone at Waverly. Have my own house with a big TV. Haven’t watched TV since the kids were young.

Lucinda passed three years ago. She was seventy. That sounds old, but it isn’t. Not really.

We had just moved here. Becky flew in from Arizona. Jenny drove from Tacoma. Brought the grandkids, brought the husbands. We bounced the babies on our knees, on our shoulders.

I still work, occasionally. Keeps me busy. Keeps me happy. And it’s something to do, anyway.

Oh, I miss Lucinda, miss teaching. Otherwise, I do just fine.

Say, John, could you hold a minute? Someone’s on the other line. Probably, Becky. She calls me every day.

Cover art for the band The Chairman Dances' single "Alone at Waverly"

Art by Heather Swenson

A Year Spent Floating

We're pleased to share "A Year Spent Floating", a track from our upcoming album, Small Comforts.

The setting for this song, written before the pandemic, is Zoom Evening Prayer. I've described it to friends as "The Mountain Goats meets Sleater-Kinney". I'm told it's one of our best. Lyrics are below.

A Year Spent Floating / Eric Krewson

I log on, see everyone in the group video chat. They can’t see me. “You see the camera with the line through it? Click that.” I click that, appear.

Seven of us in squares. Six squares in a row. One large square. Kendra explains, “Whoever’s talking moves to the large square.” She is, in fact, in the large square as she tells us this.

We begin. “Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” During intercessions, Jason raises his hand, lets us know he’d like to speak. He exhales deeply. He says since his brother passed—“Gosh, was that a year ago, now?”—he’s felt as if he’s been floating, just above himself, as if one of the two strings that tether the soul to the body has been cut. He’s holding onto his conscious self as a child holds onto a balloon. He’s exhausted from the effort. He says he’s scared, if he lets go, he’ll lose himself, be carried away.

We say it’s OK to let go. He’s reluctant, shakes his head, then says, “Aw hell. I’ll give it a shot.”

We sit in silence for one, two, three minutes. Jason opens his eyes. He’s surprised he’s still with us, surprised he’s still in the large square. He says he was scared for his family, scared his daughters would grow up like their cousins, fatherless.

Jason rubs his eyes with his fingers. Lets out a “Woo.” We tell him we love him. We promise to check in again next week.

We finish the prayers, sit in silence, and, one by one, log off.

Artwork for the band The Chairman Dances' song "A Year Spent Floating"

Art by Heather Swenson

New Music


Dear friends,

I’m happy to announce a new single. Hear it via the linked buttons below.

“Small Comforts” is the title track from our album of the same name, out 1/27. The record is a 32-minute suite.


The single was inspired by William Carlos Williams’ “To a Poor Old Woman”, a brief poem about the pleasures of eating plums. Using its own language, the song reimagines Williams’ work, expanding its scope to include both the beauty and elusiveness of comfort.


Below are lyrics in verse and wonderful cover artwork, for this single specifically, from Heather Swenson.

Do enjoy these small comforts.

-Eric

Happy to announce 2 upcoming, free outdoor shows. 9/3, we'll perform as part of Philly's Parks on Tap at Penn Treaty Park. We go on at 7. This is the sunset chairman gig of your dreams: orange sky, flowing river, flowing beer, beneficent breeze.

9/17, we'll be in West Reading for their annual, excellent Fall Fest. We perform on the main stage (6th Ave.) at 1:20. The city streets are cordoned off to cars for this event; the people (pedestrians) reign, as they ought.

Poster announcing a concert series, featuring The Chairman Dances, at Penn Treaty Park in Philadelphia
Poster of musical acts performing at West Reading's Fall Fest