Mark Twain | A New Single August 18th 2023

in , , , , , ,

Samuel Langhorne Clemens

My next single is being released on August 18th on this year of our Lord, 2023. It is probably the most convoluted story I have ever told—perhaps beside The Incredible Shrinking Brain—but we will save the later for a different day.

Mark Twain. It’s a brilliant pen name for Samuel Langhorne Clemens. It’s riverboat slang. It was also the pen name of another riverboat pilot who wrote for a Riverboat Almanac. Samuel Clemens stole the idea from him. He admits to this notion in his book entitled “Life on the Mississippi.”

Regardless, it is a brilliant pen name if you examine it for what it is and what it represents. Mark Twain is a measurement of depth. Sounding boats and sounding poles were used by those navigating the murky waters of a muddy river that we are all familiar with as American Citizens: the Mississippi River. It has no rocky foundation to its deepest depths. It is a muddy river. It constantly changes in depths and sizes naturally due to this proclivity endowed to rivers of such quality. However, because of this—it is dangerous. A riverboat can easily run ashore, or find the unwelcome sand of a shoal, if not constantly checking the depth of the river using sounding boats and sounding poles. This is where the notion of marks and numbers come from. These depths would be shouted by those using the sounding poles, to measure depth, to those listening for their instruction as they piloted the vessel.

The Mississippi River in Hannibal, Missouri

Mark Twain means two fathoms deep. It is the cut-off between dangerous and safe passage. Mark Twain is the shallowest depth in which a riverboat may pass without peril or hazard. Mark Twain is the convergence of safe and dangerous; it is the point in which these two opposing outcomes meet.

Moving forward with this as a title—I found a curious story regarding Samuel Langhorne Clemens and Halley’s Comet:

Halley's Comet appeared in the sky when Mark Twain was born in 1835. The comet moves in a seventy-five or seventy-six-year orbit, and, as it neared Earth once again in the year 1909, Twain said,

I came in with Halley's Comet... It is coming again ... and I expect to go out with it... The Almighty has said, no doubt: 'Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.'

Hannibal, Missouri. Samuel Langhorne Clemen’s Childhood Home

Sure enough, he died on April 21, 1910, just as the comet made its next pass within sight of Earth.

I was born on April 21st 1979. That has no relevance to this story, and I’m sure it is quite coincidental.

This song, that I am releasing August 18th, tells the story of Halley’s Comet and our Sun. It also, can stand for something completely different. It can be representative. Metaphor. Hyperbolic. Whatever the case may be: I am proud of its words and music and to be releasing it as I hear it in my head. It is a tip of my hat to someone I admire and a love letter of sorts to a romantic idea. I can’t help but be carried away by the trade winds of whimsy. I prefer it, as I can’t imagine life without my creativity to put wind in my sails in the first place.

For you.

May we all be friends and find the beauty in one another, no matter how difficult or easy that proves to be, ultimately. Perhaps—perhaps there are intrinsic links that bind us all to one another, if not just within the matter which makes everything, the gravitational forces caused by mass and its manipulation of spacetime, and the loosely understood physics of such.

You can pre-save the song at this link:

PRE-SAVE LINK

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS

UPCOMING TOUR DATES

"Coyote" | New Single on Streaming Services May 26th 2023

in ,

Hey everyone,

I will be releasing my first single for the new year on Friday May 26th 2023. It is by far, one of my favorite cuts from the new album. It's a song called "Coyote."

While I do come from a generation more accustomed to the idea of releasing an album all at once—perhaps this is no longer a wise decision as an artist in 2023. Doing my due diligence, I am confident that the model of releasing one single at a time may be—better.

So, that is what I will be doing. 

I am uploading this single to be digitally distributed, today, for an official release date on Friday May 26th 2023. You may pre-save my single on your favorite streaming service; I was told that it helps to secure a place on popular Spotify playlists. I would be honored to have you do that if you feel inclined. Do whatever feels good for you though. I’m not even sure that it doesn't anything meaningful aside from just reminding you when it comes out (which would be lovely). Here is a link pre-save:

https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/mikevitale/coyote

I am very proud of all the hard work that I put into this album and this song. I would like to do it justice by releasing it with as much authenticity and sincerity as possible. I create my music in this way—I plan to release it with an equal amount and measure of heart and sincerity.

My compass is the chills I get up and down my spine when I work on art. Losing track of time. Accidentally being late to things because I was having so much fun making something with all my being and soul. It's my inside poking out like the tag on the back collar of a T-shirt.

This song's inspiration came from touring the United States in 2021 after a long pandemic filled with isolation, self-reflection, and rumination. It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, having the opportunity to see the Rocky Mountains. To drive through the beautiful national park between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Who knew that was there? Not me—that is, until I was balling my eyes out because of its beauty and depth. The endless stretches of desert between Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, Texas...

We live in such a gorgeous and diverse country filled with beautiful people. I am grateful and on my hands and knees every day for the privilege of getting to do what I do. It's also incredibly difficult, exhausting, contentious, dynamic, emotional, introspective, risky—and the most rewarding thing I can think of doing with my life—yet still, a privilege. Without a doubt. May I strive to continuously stay within the good graces of Fortuna, Hotei, Ganesha, Jesus, Muhammad, The Way, Yahweh, My Inner Voice, and every other personification and archetype of human experience, story, and history that pertains to the spreading of positive creation in this world. I am a student. I have much to learn until the day I breathe my last breath.

I am a 44 year old man who is trying his best to leave this place a little better than how he found it. Even if all my efforts are akin to just vacuuming the floor, dusting and tidying the place up a bit before the next tenant stays the night in this AirBnB we call Mother Earth, I am confident I will never regret how hard I work. Ever. I will not be an old man sitting on the porch thinking, "what would my life had been like, had I actually applied myself where my heart and soul pointed?"

Instead, I am endlessly strolling. An old desert dog. Amongst sage brush, and bunch grass, and cactus and fog. Slender and gangling my bush tail sags, as I trot through the desert: the cliff face and crags.

You might here my faint howl, when the wind carries my song just right.