man down
how do you get out of a house that caves in?
These are the good days.
I try to think some version of that every day. A foul mood is admittedly most likely to bring it to mind - sometimes I’m just willing it to be so - but each day I look for something that reminds me to have gratitude for living.
I guess that means I often think about dying too. I sometimes wonder… do I think about the end more than the average person?
It’s our mightiest unknown, so I figure we are all occasionally going there, but how often do you consider not being here? For at least one moment in my life, I was sure I was a goner. Now that it’s a memory, or a place I’ve been, do I think of it more often?
I want you to know that the darker side of thinking about death occurs so rarely for me, and only in isolation, or if I’m intentionally excavating it for a song.
The opposite is usually true. Being close to the finish line once has helped me keep positive ever since. When I think about death, it reminds me to think about life.
Maybe it’s because when the hematologist said those hard things, he only took a breath or two before explaining I’d be fine. All I know is that it was in that little space in between that I turned a corner forever.
Some real struggle did follow right after, but it was all made easier by a new resolve to keep breathing and gratitude for the ability to breathe in the first place.
These are the good days.
I wrote a lot of more direct songs about being sick a decade ago. I played them sometimes at revue shows with Bruce but I never wanted to sing or hear them, so they’ve all fallen away now. I probably won’t go back to listen and so you won’t hear those now either.
man down is about that moment too, but the idea was to step off of the nerve, zoom out a little and think around it.
What parts of it were inevitable and what parts are universal? What parts of the woe and grief are self-inflected? What’s next, standing there in the ashes?
I brought Leon a million arpeggios and we sorted through them and built a song that climbs a mountain. Mika’s string parts came in the mail fully formed and eerie - almost as though she had been thinking about her place on earth too - and I spent time in dim light at the old upright at Candle, staring at a picture of Laura Palmer and singing about the jaws of life.
I’m relieved to put man down out into the world today. I’m grateful to be able to tell you about it, and for you to hear it. Thank you for listening. These are the good days.
morale got low at the firehall ~ lingering overtones ~ suddenly it hits ~ we don’t mean nothin’ ~ couldn’t get out ~ sucked under ~ couldn’t get out of the house ~ in the mouth of a tiger you and me mean nothing ~ how do you get out? ~ how do you get out? ~ man down ~ man down ~ came across on the wire just now ~ man down ~ man down ~ they’ll get it back at the firehall ~ put the tail in a trap and go looking for more ~ you won’t get out of a house that caves in ~ no, you won’t get out ~ gather all the dust that blows ~ the fireball missed ~ a diligent optimist scavenges ~ suddenly there it is ~ and that must mean something ~ how do you get out? ~ how do you get out? ~ man down
Written & performed by Neil Haverty
Strings by Mika Posen
Produced & mixed by Leon Taheny
Mastered by Phil Demetro