Alex Henry to me: “That’s the reason there’s only 4 songs… Simple, right?!”

Hey,

I hope you’re doing well! It’s Easter Sunday morning and I’m sitting at my desk listening to a few things already, waking up to the delicate sounds of my Scottish punk friends The Exploited to then move on toward David Olney’s 1988 album Deeper Well! It’s not chocolate, don’t worry! It’s one of those days where music is simply leading the way, and this is something I truly enjoy! I’m looking out my window thinking about you, hoping you’re having a great time with the ones you love, crafting unforgettable memories around laughter, celebrating where we’re at in this crazy life journey!

I just had an incredible conversation and moment with Alex over the phone as he is still in Virginia taking care of what’s left of his home, since a few guys literally spent the last week destroying parts of it, taking everything with them, memories included. It’s so heavy and cruel on Alex. I’m trying to send as much love, joy, soulful thoughts, and laughter as possible on a daily basis!

So, as I was envisioning this Sunday morning Club Missive writing moment a few days ago, I went through several of your messages, and there was a question that kept on coming back for Alex and it sounded like “Why are there only 4 songs on the upcoming A Nightfall Ritual album,” and secondly, “Why precisely choose those ones?” I thought it could be a cool one to send Alex’s way as I realized even I wasn’t quite sure why in the end...! Great one my friends!!!

Hope you’ll enjoy it, and please, always feel free to send me any questions, comments, songs, playlists, or artists you might have…! Really love reading you!

ALEX’S ANSWER TO WHY THOSE 4 SONGS 

If releasing the whole concert might have been the obvious or logical thing to do — it would have been an easy in, easy out type of straightforward process to wrap it all up — you know by now that I tend to instinctively stay as far away as possible from anything obvious or logical when it comes to my projects. The only thing that truly matters to me is for any element that I'm dwelling on to be intentional and purposeful, and my intent wasn’t to release a traditional kind of live album… I wanted to express the reverence I had in regard to just how significant that moment has been for me by communing where I presently am in my life… And there wasn’t any better way to share that state of heart and soul than by expressing the deepest sensations that inhabited me through those 4 specific songs…

For me, the purest instant when it comes to creation is what I call the inceptive blooming phase, which is to partake in the early embodiment of the incarnation of a living organism. It’s fascinating for me to witness the nature of a life spark I envisioned become its own entity, its own self, bourgeoning through the freedom of its fierce will to be, away from the impotent ambitiousness that could prompt me to deny the formation of its intimate identity, away from my ever-controlling insecurity that could deprive its evolving growth through my fearful shadow… When I keep my role in the likes of a midwife, I know that birth's astonishment will organically lead to further splendors. But that takes time, benevolent care, and a real forbearing self-deprivation to let it flower unrestrained, unhampered, uncorrupted.

That’s why, with every opportunity I have to embark on a new tour or to play a new stretch of festival dates, I will profoundly dig within me to find if only a glimmer of newborn light to follow. I will ask myself, “What do I have to offer? Is there anything people might need to feel or let go of? What do I have to bring to the communal rendezvous I’ve been invited to join?” It’s essential for me to contribute, and I will torture my spirit until I find any sort of directing clues guiding me where I have to go, to look in… And that “tour” was particularly singular in its essence, as I was well aware that it could have been the very last time I would be standing before my dear ones on a stage, that I would have the precious privilege to initiate any potential collective uplift to invite the invisible, to follow its flow and abandon myself to its healing stream… It wasn’t a frivolous affair for me. It has never been. But it was more personally consequential, I would say.

Therefore, I approached the prospect of honoring that transformative ceremony of love with a worshipful type of reverential humility. And as much as I mused about its possible component, the more it brought me back to the idea of letting 4 songs not only testify the evening’s familial jubilance I experienced with everyone that evening, but to let it draw a vivid portrait of every single step coming after the death of my father, my mourning years living in Tangier that ultimately precipitated the inevitable scission of my band Your Favorite Enemies, the eventual rebirth of my faith in the voice I’ve been offered to use, up to the abundantly rich human and emotional adventures that followed, the high exhilarating strides of which were abruptly stopped, leaving me the feet of an upheaval reality caused by my heart surgery, the momentary death it engendered, my medical resuscitation, all the way to my current rebirth...

No need to say that it was an intensely consuming process for me to entirely immerse my spirit in, especially as it was marking a radiantly clear demarcation between my recent past and what I foresee as the unfolding of the upcoming stages of my journey, both personal and creative. The new songs “Up Til Dawn” and “I’m Afraid” are the initial reflection of that resurgent stage, while “The Son of Hannah” represents the first glimpse of conscious awareness I had after the release of my album “Windows in the Sky”, a liberating record whose emancipative voyage began with the bleak reflection that was the song “The Pain That Bonds” before undergoing its emerging hopeful transfiguration.

Some might say that I have assembled the project going backwards, but it couldn’t be more foreign a thought to my vision, as my perspective is neither linear nor subject to any kind of backward revisitation. It is in fact perpetually circular, and even though this may give the impression that I need to return to the starting point again and again to keep on going, my approach is that we redefine each of those markers as we pass through them, creating an ever-increasing distance in time and space every time, like an upward spiral, exponentially evolving, so you never know where the actual starting point is. And by doing so, you lose sight of the temporal notion associated with the illusory comfort of being able to refer yourself to or regress to any originating beginning. In the same measure, you no longer have to worry about determining the propelling soar necessary to reach a potential finish line, as every new cycle is equally made of a transitionary beginning and end. And if we all find similitudes as we go through different life phases, those are the fragments of our former selves, echoes of our past, all being part of who we are, have become, and eventually morphed into. As subtle as the changes might be or look like, it’s never totally the same. It’s a permanent continuity. At least that’s how I see it for my own existence.

Consequently, when the words “A Nightfall Ritual” came to my mind as I originally contemplated the potentiality to immortalize those feelings into a special project, I immediately knew that it was a purposeful venture, that it was legitimately meaningful, that I had to do it — my way. It had to be so that any of those 4 songs would encapsulate every intended piece of life vibrating in my heart and soul, that they would attest to the sentiments I felt eagerly inspired by at the sole idea to commune them with my friends and loved ones. And to be able to do that, I thought that every vinyl side should only feature a single song, laying a meaningful type of canvas for anyone willing to paint their own defining projection. And once reassembled as a whole, it would also stand as a display of colors testifying to everyone’s inner unicity.

That’s the reason there’s only 4 songs… Simple, right?!

PS: Now you understand why my theology teachers were greatly preoccupied every time I would publicly speak in class, and why my philosophy teachers were concerned with every paper I would write. Some needed a tangible truth to hold onto, while others were looking for anything to justify whatever emotional need they might have at any moment. Ain't that interesting?! The joys of university…!

Thank you for reading! Simple, right?! Ha! Always!!!! Love you, Alex! 

Let’s be great to one another! 

Your Host and Chief Operator, 
Jeff