Dangerous Speculations.

As an Intro to Creative Writing college student back in ‘00/‘01, influenced by certain assigned readings, I developed a thing for writing dramatic monologues. Even before that, as a little school kid, I’d occasionally try writing from the point of view of people I found frustratingly inscrutable. I’ve always felt a bit smarmy doing it when it involves speculations about real individuals, but I never felt guilty enough to quit. It’s an irresistible way to explore human motivations. These days I just probably won’t tell you who the speaker is supposed to be!

(I also stand ever ready to admit that my assessments of people could always be terribly off-base. Though, at the same time, I think I’ve become a fairly perceptive person over the years.)

My last substantial BandCamp release of the year is going to be just that: a motherlode of dramatic monologues. A collection of short experimental vignettes voicing a combination of real figures and fictional characters. I’ve been collecting ideas for this thing for over two years and thought it was high time I got to it. The tracks got demoed to various degrees over the long weekend I just had, and I am aiming for a mid-late December release date.

Speaking of potentially controversial depictions of real people, I recently saw Sofia Coppola’s movie about Priscilla and Elvis. Those who have gathered that it does nothing but heavy-handedly besmirch Elvis are wrong. He looks pretty yikes, sure, but complexly so. It wasn’t on my bingo card that I’d ever look to a movie about the Presleys for insights about, well, anything relatable – but here we are. His madonna/whore complex. His commanding a cacophonous entourage who were always around, sometimes lovable and buffer-like but also dangerous and enabling. His ironic susceptibility to other influencers. His glorification of the spiritual and impatience with the quotidian. His disdain for the carnal even as he prowled around seeking it (outside of the one deemed “pure”, of course). His expectation that she would serve a certain practical purpose in his design to the annihilation of her selfhood. I could go on, but… good stuff.

After seeing the film, I re-listened to my Lisa Marie Presley cover from earlier this year and was taken aback by how, luckily, many of the lyrics – including certain revisions and insertions I took the liberty of making – seemed like they could easily apply to the relationship between her parents. I counted it as a win.

Another thing the film did well was depict Graceland as a desaturated, cavernous, plush prison of sorts, emphasizing the loneliness of existing in limbo solely for another person. And while we’re on plush prisons: here’s a little Damien Rice cover that rails against being hemmed in, and could even be directed at, oh, I dunno – the job that provides one’s golden handcuffs! I worked it up just for fun in between demoing the big monologue project.

The Box

Don’t give me love with a notebook of rules
That kind of love’s just for fools 
And I’m over it

My reasons for walking away
My reasons for wanting to change 
My reasons for everything 
Are lost on you

Well I have tried but I don’t fit 
Into this box I’m living in
I could go wild 
But you might lock me up

I have tried but I don’t fit
Into this box you call a gift
I could be wild and free 
But god forbid then you might envy me