“Bliss” happened a couple years ago, in Portland Oregon. It’s one of those songs that tells the future. I mean, it told the future, but I still didn’t see the future coming; I hardly ever do. One of the pitfalls of being more concerned about a guitar part or a production technique than what a song is attempting to spell out in big, fat English: “you will walk willingly into a trap.” Something we all do from time to time, so I coulda sworn it was talking about the past or maybe even the present, or, best of all: somebody else. Big, fat English’ll only get you so far.
Warm and cool and hot and cold and you’re shaking, trapped, but golly, it seemed like such a good idea at the time! It happens to everybody. Whole groups of people sometimes, but usually just two. So at least you can turn to the guy next to you and shrug helplessly, “I guess we did it again…”
In the studio, I told Rizzo that I wanted to sound like a sweet, sixties rhythm section: hardly any melody, just keeping time. That I’d play a full kit, then knock off one drum at a time until I had the bare minimum that the song needed, which turned out to be kick and shaker. And maybe an adorable, little tambourine. The guitar had to be percussive yet gentle and the bass needed to sound acoustic: just sweet, to frown sympathetically and pat your arm if this unfortunate fortune rings true for you, too.
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