I wrote the vast majority of this song while I was touring last year. I was in Portland, Oregon at the time, staying at my friend David Greco's house. David is a singer-songwriter himself. A very talented one.
I met him in Los Angeles, at a songwriter night when I first moved to LA. He was living in Los Angeles, at that time, but was originally from Portland and moved back there with his wife, shortly after we met.
Him and his wife are incredibly kind and fun and smart and artistic. Both of them read incessantly and their house is just covered in book shelves and literature of all varieties. A television is nowhere to be seen.
I had made a trip to Powell's Book Store a bit earlier that morning (which a marvel of a place in Portland) and came back to their place to take a crack at writing.
As I sat at their kitchen table, writing: either one of them might stop for a second as they passed by to ask how the song was coming along, might stop to listen if invited.
Earlier on we had been talking about books either of us were reading and she keenly noticed that the title from the book she was reading had ended up in my chorus.
"We are remarkable brightness of creature".
I'm a sponge—or maybe that is the wrong way of looking at it. Perhaps I'm like a collage. If one were in mean spirits: perhaps I paint by numbers.
When I showed it to David, he said that it reminded him of Rufus Wainwright. I can see that. I love Rufus and his music. I used to listen to his first two albums a lot, many years ago. He was working with all the music producers I loved: Pierre Marchant for "Poses" and Jon Brion for his self-titled. I hadn't listened to Rufus for probably—15 years or so. Yet, I would say that is a very viable explanation to where I could have listened to much music reminiscent of Judy Garland and all the amazing songwriters of her generation. Beyond compare. Masters of the craft.
Even as the writer, I have no idea where this stuff comes from precisely, in terms of an origin, aside from the most obvious explanation of non-executive functionality to the human psyche.
I don't try to sound like anyone but me. I just write. I hadn't been listening to any music that sounded anything like what I was writing here in the moment. It is like that for every song that I write. My brain tends to do the opposite of whatever I am currently taking in.
It's like magic. It feels like the song comes from somewhere special that is deep, dark, and mysterious. A little dangerous, but also sacred.
The Unconscious. The subconscious. Whichever you prefer. It's not conscious. That's the point.
The older I get, the more I want everything that I make, to come from this place. Perhaps they all do. I'm not certain.
More importantly, I want everyone to make something special, even if it is just special to themselves. I feel the most alive when I am creating, I want everyone to experience that feeling. It feels—incredible. Rare.
We all are incredible and rare. It can be said without a doubt, that we are all part of the same genus. However, it's the subjective nature of our being, that puts the I in that word.
Genius.
It comes from Latin. The Romans believed that there was a guiding spirit that accompanies you from birth to death. They called this spirit Genius. This spirit would help you to be the best version of yourself, to create, and to guide you on your path until the moment you left this mortal coil.
By the 15th century Middle English, it meant traits that define you as a person.
By the 17th century—it meant someone that is exceptional.
I don't mention any of this because I think I'm exceptional.
I saw exceptional last night. They were on stage together, being themselves.
I wish I would have filmed them on camera. It always seems to spoil the moment though, and my enjoyment of it—so I just took it in, instead.
I moved to Los Angeles, to bear witness to that. It is the sort of place that can quickly remind you that there are exceptional people in the world. To remind that there are pinnacles to achieve yet still, far beyond what is currently on hand.
I'm the most interested in the origin of the word genius. I'm interested in the folklore of its origin. This spirit. The Genius the Romans believed in. A mediator between God and Self.
I'm also interested in the notion of Genus and Genius being separated by one small vowel, that also just happens to represent our own inherent uniqueness.
I
Regardless of all this nonsense that I spout about—Rare Bird is a celebration of the unlocking of a door that resides within every human. Behind that door, there is adventure, dragons, a journey, a purpose, and long forgotten events, amongst so much else that is ripe with mystery. Perhaps I visit this space much like I do Portland and my friends there. A constellation, inside and outside of my being.
It's also, just a bunch of words over some music. I listened to 50 seconds of it, and it sounds nice. It's a lot of things to a lot of people. Nothing to no one. Maybe everything between too.
It's time for a walk. Thanks for reading me.
WHO IS MIKE VITALE?
I am a storyteller, songwriter, singer, music producer, traveling musician, Jungian dream analyst, all-around curious fellow (Spiritual, Mathematical Historical, Scientific), Taoist, and much much more, based out of Los Angeles, California. I’m constantly releasing new music, in all sorts of different genres. You can listen to me below, on Spotify:
