Pete Yorn - Day I Forgot

Pete Yorn has pretty good taste in the ladies.  I say that because two of my exes back in the day told me, separately, he tried to pick them up.  That having been said, I could have told him he was better off getting shot down by those two. 

Funny anecdotes aside, this record meant a lot to me at the time it came out, but I think it’s aged much better than I thought it would.  I was such a big fan of musicforthemorningafter and between those albums I started hanging out with Waz, an incredible singer-songwriter who also happened to have been Pete’s guitar player.  The fact he was Pete’s guitar player was why I went to see him the first time, but I loved his music, we hit it off as friends and we hung out for several years.  That having been said, Pete’s shadow loomed large over all of us in the Hollywood singer-songwriter scene built around The Hotel Café. 

When it came out, I have to admit, I was a little underwhelmed.  I really liked “Come Back Home” and “All at Once” but I was lukewarm about the rest of the record.  I guess, listening now, my best guess why is that it feels like it lacks the sense of urgency that musicforthemorningafter had.  Part of that is Pete’s subtle vocal delivery and the other part is the fuller production of Day I Forgot.  The first record was done mostly by Pete and R. Walt Vincent (Walt) with Brad Wood, Ken Andrews and Don Fleming also listed as producers.  Day I Forgot was done with Scott Litt, though Walt was still all over the record instrumentally and Ken and Brad make appearances as well. 

This record, like the first one, is also heavy on the melancholy.  In 2003, having been in Los Angeles for two years at that point and hanging out with Waz, Minibar and a few more famous folks that occasionally orbited around our haunts like Hotel Café, the bar at the Troubadour, etc., I saw these guys who were better than me and well-connected struggling to make it and while it should have made me work harder, it made me a little depressed instead.  Personally, this album is the sound of me giving up on my dreams.  As good as it is, it’s still hard to listen to.  I’m trying to separate myself from that to judge this objectively, but I just can’t.  That’s the thing about music, if it’s good, you can’t help but make it personal and does that record align with good times in your life, or hard times?  Either way, there’s a permanent connection made that can rarely be severed.

My personal issues aside, this is a well-written, well-recorded and well-executed record.  There really isn’t a bad song on the record.  I still think “Come Back Home” and “All at Once” are highlights, the latter is really an incredible song.  “Carlos” and “Committed” both sound great today, twenty years later. 

After this record came Nightcrawler, a very good record featuring my drinking buddy Sid Jordan of Minibar. However, Back & Fourth, for my money, is his masterpiece.  “Social Development Dance” is such an incredible song.  Haunting. 

Sorry, I don’t believe in mid-life crises but I sort of feel like I’m having a mini-one now listening to this record.  Like it’s transporting me back in time to Los Angeles 2003.  To me at twenty-three.  A young man trying to figure out who he is and how to be that guy.  A young man emotionally wandering the desert and Los Angeles is not the place to find yourself. 

Thankfully, this is just a blog post, because when I sat down to write this and listen to this record, I wasn’t prepared on where it would take me. 

But isn’t that great?  Isn’t it amazing how recorded sound can completely transport you to another time and place?  In this case, one I lived, but it doesn’t have to be that way.  Music is such a higher form of communication than the spoken word.  I’m amazed by it every day and I’m more grateful everyday for the gift of it.