1. |
muscle of the soul
04:08
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Before we put berries in a woven bowl
Before we scribbled symbols on a parchment scroll
Before there was reason before there was rhyme
Before there was money, before there was time
There was a song, there was a song
I love a good recording in my ear buds
But the singing that you hear lives in all of us
I can sit stand behind this microphone and sell it in a store
But your voice is inside just open the door
With your voice, with your voice
They told me that I could't sing
That my teenage pipes just wouldn't ring
Doctors of soul had to show me the way
So I slowly reclaim my birthright
To sing to sing to sing
Sometimes I gotta cry like a lonely wold
Sometimes I gotta giggle till the room is full
An earthy old grunt lifts a heavy load
And a soft love whisper is pure as gold
I said, every single sound is making me whole
'Cuz the voice is the muscle muscle of the soul
So when you say that you cannot sing
Your ancestors are still listening
They came this far with a song in their heart
So its time for us to start our birthright
Every voice, every voice, every voice, every voice can sing
First they told me that they thought I sounded great
Stardom on the bleachers of the 4th grade
Then they told I was just the drummer
I learned to keep a beat and I learned to keep it shut up
They say that those who sang survived
And if I look with open eyes
I see my people have lost some of our ways
So I'm here to remember our birthright
To sing to sing to sing
To sing to sing to sing
I said, every single sound is making me whole
'Cuz the voice is the muscle muscle of the soul
(commence random sound making…)
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2. |
little light box
03:50
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Little light box I see you doing your thing
Grabbing my attention but you're helping us sing
I know we made you for a purpose
Microchips in boxes sailing over in ships
Little light box helping us learn these songs
A beautiful endeavor where the kids teach grandma
With the screen, the screen
My phone comes from the stone
And I’m here to make it known
Yea
Little light box help us know our own way
We might choose to set you down as we wobble and stay
With the screen, the screen
Help me know how I am doing with the screen, the screen
Little light box I see you sell my attention
Who are you selling me to? Nobody mentions
I know we made you for a purpose
Microchips in boxes sailing over in ships.
My phone comes from the stone
And I'm here to make it known
That the minerals in the screen
Came from somewhere green
Yea
You need a 30 pounds of rock – just to make my phone
Now a whole mountaintop – baby hold the phone
It’s a cobalt crisis, in the Congo
Now they mining asteroids, they mining oh
My phone comes from the stone
And I'm here to make it known
That the minerals in the screen
Came from somewhere green
Yea
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3. |
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It’s tracking the splash of my zeros and ones
In the monopoly pool of information
It knows I like a folksy groove
It knows the shape of the sound of my Spotify tunes
It remembers the topping on my pizza
Pesto artichokes and cheese are enough
It made me watch all those tiny desk shows
if it doesn’t know who I am it sure knows where I go
Can you feel the algorithm?
It knows I want to buy a van
In case a fire brings down the roof
It knows I wish I did more yoga
It knows I want a pair of boots
It knows I’m a sucker for saving the whales
And I worry ‘bout deforestation
It knows I was looking for a therapist
And I dabble in meditation
Can you feel the algorithm?
I can feel the algorithm
Can you feel the algorithm?
It’s only groovy
If I look away from the way it makes extremists out of my neighbors
It’s only groovy
If cannot see the way it grows addictions in teenagers
So I’m calling on a programmer with heart
To restart the algorithm
Yai dai dai da, yai da
Yai dai dai da, yai da
Can you feel the algorithm, baby
Can you feel it, can you feel it now
What if I could sell my own data
Put a whole in Bezos’ bucket
We could build a million new farms
Instead of his stupid rockets
What if it new I need some help
Closing down the Netflix tab?
You can watch another episode
Cut its helpful to feel sad
Can you feel the algorithm?
I can feel the algorithm
Can you feel the algorithm?
I can feel the algorithm
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4. |
home in my body
03:42
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My stomach smiles
When I take my time
To digest my food
Lungs fill down low
With no where to go
And my shoulders are loose
I’m home in my body, home in my body (x2)
I’m hoooooome
You don’t have to move
Perfect or smooth
To dance until you drop
Heavy tired eyes
And a quiet mind
Are a good internal clock
I’m home in my body, home in my body
I’m hoooooome
Welcome home, welcome home
Sometimes indeed
I want to leave
When grief knocks at my door
Easy to say
I’m here to stay
But they are waging war
I’m home in my body, home in my body (x4)
I’m hoooooome
I’m hoooooome
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5. |
your own core force
04:34
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The fire, the fire's on time
Ponderosa let their needles drop and burn
Standing in flame, resilient by design
See scorched earth nourish the saplings
Like a seed stored a thousand years or more
Help me know who I am for
Blood red salmon swim trapped behind the dam
Fish half my size live only in a photo
Upstream instincts as ancient as the land
When we tear the dams down they go right home
Doesn’t take long
Everybody’s got a place to go
What’s between you and your own core force
Like a seed stored a thousand years or more
Help me know who I am for
Harriet Tubman running hours through the night
For a freedom that still waits off in tomorrow
She was not free from memories in her eyes
So she went back south sayin' no more
Yea she went back south sayin' no more!
And her determination challenges my silence with courage
And the sea in the salmon is nutritious for the eagles and our bodies
And the fire in the forest clears way for the berries and the old growth
We all have a gift, you're gonna find your way, if you give it away
Like a seed stored a thousand years or more
Help me know who I am for
Everybody’s got a place to go
What’s between you and your own core force
Soul, it seems, must give to grow
Soul, it seems, there’s always more
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6. |
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Did you see the news today?
You go chill baby its ok
If I had a dollar for every dime
I bought just to face the day and times
I’d pay for us to drive across the line
Oh Canada, you’re looking fine
I’ll stay for now if we take it slow
I still see neighbors I don’t know.
Right here we’re turning around, standing on stolen ground
Today I’m turning around, tryin’a, tryin’a, tryin’a
Reach my hand for the people around
The English scalped the Irishmen like wild boars
Ghosts of history knock at the door
At the end of a westward fleeing of grief
I’m glad they told me crying can bring relief
Fingers on triggers of municipal guns
Can be echoes of memories that aren’t done.
Some shadows act before I can
My ancestors move in my hands
Right here we’re turning around, standing on stolen ground
Today I’m turning around, tryin’a, tryin’a, tryin’a
Feel the pain of our past unbound
If they’re gonna clear the streets again
Let them hear the thundering
Of our song our hearts are strong
Our hearts are strong, our hearts are strong
All the time I’m learning I
Am blinded by suburban lines
Predictable, safe
Like the whitewashed version of history you gave me
In public school, and if that’s all I knew
I might need to defend my world.
Blame is cheap on the left and the right
Am I willing to listen? Do I need to be right?
The heart, the heart where does it start, with you with me I don’t know
With you with me I don’t know
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Ian Carrick Bend, Oregon
Ian is a community-oriented songwriter, songleader and music teacher based in his hometown of Bend,
OR.
Ian sings on the ancestral lands of the Paiute, Wasco and Warm Springs people and is open to learning what right relationship looks like.
As a light-skinned banjoist, Ian tithes monthly to the Black Banjo Reclamation Project
... more
Ian Carrick recommends:
I bought this record for my sibling for the holydays. I love her lush, spacious harmonies, instrumental work, and the honoring of her legacy. I also love the tender, brave spirituality of the album
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