It's Always Been About Water

An essay, a song, and the record of the week

I once heard that success in life is more about positioning than anything else. More than talent or luck, you need to position yourself for success. I’ve mostly ignored that and relied on pure tenacity. Keep swimming. Keep swimming. The waves will let up eventually. But they don’t, and by the time you’re out of breath, you realize you’ve done nothing but drift a half mile down the shoreline, no closer to getting past the breaks.

I grew up swimming in rip tides, as the Atlantic Ocean is a sea of extremes. It’s either a glassy bay or a tropical storm. In Los Angeles, you don’t even check the surf report because, much like the weather, you know what to expect. But the Atlantic does not do gentle rolling breaks; it deals in the fierce and unexpected. Those were the waters that raised me. That’s my default. My baseline.

I still remember its rhythm. The waves came in sets of three or four every five to seven minutes. If you rode the first wave, you had to be careful, as you’d then be in prime position to be pummeled by the other two in the set. Then you’d have to paddle back out, fighting the breaks as they did their best to push you back to shore.

Now I just let them wash over me. Do my best to maintain my breathing. It’s not easy, but accepting that you’re caught in a rip tide is better than swimming against one. There are others out there with me. That guy to the left of me with the back muscles bulging out of the water like a buoy. He’s making better progress than me. And the woman to my right, 30 yards ahead, bobbing calmly on her board as the waves seem to roll under her like she’s riding a horse with the slowest gallop. A big wave rolls under her like wind sweeping a meadow, and by the time it reaches me it’s a skyscraper cresting with whitewater. I do my best to dive below its pressure, avoiding its force. I break the surface on the other side and turn to the shore, witnessing the drop and thankful it didn’t take me with it. I’m tired, and I’m out of breath, but I’m okay.

My new single, “waves keep crashing,” will be released on all platforms this Friday. You can pre-save it here. Paid subscribers can listen to it right now by scrolling down to the bottom of this here newsletter.

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THE RECORD CLUB

Last week’s selection was Bruce Springsteen - Born in the U.S.A. (1984)

You can find our conversation on last week’s record in the comment section below.

This week’s selection is…

Week #2
Rancid - Life Won't Wait (1998)

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“waves keep crashing”

I wrote and recorded this song in my living room on my late father in-law’s nylon guitar. I would share the demo, but it’s not much different than the final version. I tried to re-record the guitar and vocal many times, but I couldn’t beat the demo. I never even wrote the words down, as they just came out of me. I’m not Jay-Z. That’s not the norm for me. I eventually added some other layers, but the final recording of this song is nearly identical to what I put down on that dark night of the soul. It was actually morning, but it was dark, nonetheless.

Listen here: