What would become the jangly, densely layered Sorry Vampire (Vagrant, 10/2), the second full-length from John Ralston, began as just a few basic elements and eventually snowballed into over 50 songs with almost twice as many individual tracks on each song.
The record was built to give the listener the experience of hearing something new with each repeated listen – you’ll likely never hear this record the same way twice. The final dozen tracks also speak to the ‘luxury’ Ralston experienced by not having time constraints and being able to home record.
The Florida-based musician began work on Sorry Vampire almost immediately after self-releasing his debut, Needle Bed, in 2005, which was picked up by Vagrant and re-released in 2006. When he arrived in Knoxville to record the album and Needle Bed’s producer Michael Seaman, he’d formed his plan: “To make the record sound beautiful, but in a different way than you’ve heard before.” This is when he began experimenting with his songs, tossing out leftovers and writing new parts.
The first song, “Fragile”, was one of the first Ralston began crafting with onetime Wilco keyboardist/engineer Jay Bennett and Ralston’s then-bandmate David Vandervelde. Even though they recorded “Fragile”’s basic elements three years ago he didn’t finish the song until 2007, over the course of three or four sessions. “Oh man, it was something! There are so many tracks and so many songs and so many takes on so many songs,” says Seaman, erupting in laughter. Seaman estimates they took a cumulative six months across their sessions in Tennessee and Florida.
The original version of the deceptively bouncy “Beautiful Disarmed” contained about 20 vocal layers and piano, but it wasn’t until after he added two separate drum takes, a Stylophone, and an ARP Solina String Ensemble to the mix that it sounded “done.” The otherworldly feel of “A Small Clearing,” which began with a loop of field recordings (street noises, doors slamming), was only completed during the very last recording session when the band stopped in Knoxville for 10 days after a tour and their collective experimenting gave the song its signature arpeggiated figure complete with steel drum, tongue drum, and even more sampled noise.
With “Ghetto Tested,” which was tracked a mere two times, Ralston’s orchestra shifts from electric guitar to symphonic strings to mellotron brass. “I can’t tell you how I arrived at it or what it means,” says Ralston of the track. “But I can tell you it was the most challenging for everyone to figure out.” The depth of sounds he used, including instruments like a PortaSound (a $10 Yamaha keyboard that creeps up everywhere on the album), helped make the record sound unique. For as many instruments as he employed, he invited just as many guests.
In addition to his regular band, and whoever else stopped through Knoxville during recording, Miami friends the Postmarks stopped by. Vocalist Tim Yehezkely lent her voice to “I Guess I Wanted My Summer Now” and drummer Jon Wilkins performed on all but two of Sorry Vampire’s songs. “Last time I think I played about 80 percent of the instruments and I’m not qualified to play even half of those,” says Ralston, “so it was nice to have some professionals in there with me.” Wilkins and Ralston got on so well that the drummer took on a co-producer’s credit as he helped finish up the sessions.
To mix the record, Ralston teamed with Grammy-winning mixer Charles Dye (Lauryn Hill, Ricky Martin, Aerosmith), as he had done with the comparatively sparse Needle Bed. The pair whittled down Vampire’s hundreds of layers per song. “He just said, ‘I want it to have depth,’” Dye recalls. “I want it to feel three-dimensional.” The engineer began ignoring his first instincts, making “unconventional choices” to give it the desired 3-D sound. When they were done, Dye decided that this was the best record he’d ever worked on.
Reflecting, Dye says, “It’s an intensely beautiful epic, an amazing collection of songs, brilliant melodies and lyrics, very different sounds and texture. He’s really one of the best lyricists I’ve ever worked with – especially his sense of humor and the way that he plays with phrases. It’s not overt. It’s sort of this wry sense of humor.”
Sorry Vampire and all of its component parts became a monolith of sound. The back of the CD bears a note saying that the record was intentionally mixed quieter than other albums to preserve the original performances’ contrast between loud and soft, leaving it up to the listener to crank it. With so many pieces and nuances working together, this album more than deserves the distinction.
“Little things like that take a while,” Ralston says, referring to the art of creating such a sonically loaded album. “You can’t force them. You just have to wait for them to come to you.”
"Needle Bed" Bio
Accidents do happen. Just ask Florida-based singer-songwriter John Ralston. Or better yet, listen to Needle Bed, his debut album for Vagrant Records, and a stark collection of 11 honest, deeply personal songs, that—to hear Ralston tell it—came about almost entirely by accident. The unlikely story begins with a chance meeting between the artist and Needle Bed collaborator Michael Seaman in Ralston’s hometown of Lake Worth, Florida. “I met him completely randomly,” remembers Ralston. “I don’t think I have ever met such a good friend just out of the blue.” Over the next few weeks, the two would record some rough demos together.
The coming months would find Ralston increasingly stifled musically and emotionally, so when Seaman, who had since moved to Knoxville, Tennessee, suggested another impromptu recording session, Ralston jumped at the offer, enlisting the help of drummer and friend, Jeff Snow. As the sessions began, Ralston could sense that something was different. “As soon as Jeff and I drove up there and started recording, we knew we weren’t just doing demos. We knew that we were making an album.” Over the next five days, the trio would do exactly that, forgoing sleep in favor of all-night recording sessions, running back and forth between two Knoxville studios, frantically tracking pianos, drums, horns and anything else that seemed appropriate. “We probably slept for two hours a day,” recalls Ralston. “We never got stuck. Things happened really naturally.”
When asked how he arrived at the title, Ralston says, “I was listening to the album on the drive back home from the studio and thought that the music sounded so inviting and easy, like the comfort of your own bed, but a lot of the lyrical content is sharp and at times painful. That combination, for me sums up Needle Bed.” The album opens with “No Catcher in the Rye,” which Ralston purposely wrote as an intro. “It really just sets the tone for the rest of the album. It’s the setting before the dialogue begins in a play.” And that dialogue begins in earnest on “It’s Not Your Fault” with Ralston singing "Dear whoever finds this note first/it's not like it's a blessing or a curse/It's just life and it's spinning around/ it's just life and spins you around/but it's not your fault.” The steady acoustic strum of “When We Are Cats” again brings Ralston’s lyrics to the forefront. "Well that's our love: stronger than blood" he sings on the bridge, words which to him beg the ultimate question, “What happens to those we love when they die? Is there anything after the grave?” The proven crowd favorite on Needle Bed is “Gone Gone Gone.” “This song is so strange to me,” says Ralston. “At the last couple of shows there were just hundreds of people singing along. It's a great opportunity to say fuck you to an ex I guess. Maybe like John Lennon and primal scream therapy combined?” Ralston has a couple favorites of his own on the record, including the more uptempo “I Believe in Ghosts,” on which he played everything but the drums, and the orchestrated moodiness of “Avalanche.” Just as with the album’s intro, Needle Bed closes with a song specifically written for that purpose. “’Our Favorite Records Skips’ begins with a glockenspiel recorded and then tweaked by Michael. This is the song I wrote to close the record - it's a lullaby for the needle bed.”
The foundation for Needle Bed was laid many years ago, with a teenaged Ralston poring over records by the Beatles, the Beach Boys, The Band, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan, and in turn, penning songs of his own. “My mom was a folksinger, and she taught me to play guitar,” says Ralston about his early years. Even then, he was prolific. “From the first time I learned 3 chords I wrote a song. I’m sure it was a really horrible song, but I always kept writing and writing.” Ralston pays homage to one of his earliest influences on the song “No One Said It Was Easy.” I wrote this song after hearing an old Townes van Zandt interview where he says ‘I never got along with life.’ It was one of the most moving interviews with one of the songwriters who influenced me the most.”
In the months following the recording of Needle Bed, Ralston put together a band and after only one rehearsal, ventured northward to open a string of shows for another longtime musical cohort, Chris Carrabba of Dashboard Confessional. “I think the first night we sold close to 300 CDs,” remembers Ralston about the initial reaction to the early, limited pressing of Needle Bed. This prompted Ralston to look into giving Needle Bed a proper release, and again, Ralston needed look no further than his friends, in this case Vagrant Records, with whom Ralston had fostered something of an informal relationship. “That’s the way I’d always like to do business,” says Ralston of his old fashioned approach to the music business. ”First you work with somebody and develop a relationship and then you enter into the agreement. You feel each other out and if you know it’s going work, then you work together.”
John Ralston is as surprised as anybody by his accidental success story. But he by no means plans to rest on his laurels. Even while rehearsing with his live band to take Needle Bed on the road, Ralston is nevertheless hard at work on his next round of songs. “I write all the time,” says Ralston admitting to having written “probably over 200 songs” in the time since the Needle Bed sessions. ”I thought it was commonplace to just write all the time, but I’m realizing that a lot of artists don’t. But that’s the only thing that I can do. I’m not suited for anything else.”
Gone Gone Gone
John Ralston Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Of the girl who taught me there was so much in this world worth living.
The part that you've been playing has me dazed and missing you.
But now you're gone, gone, gone.
The promise never harvested in fallow fields shall lie.
In a shallow grave of stubble field and half-remembered lies.
A burning heart deceived me and you really put me on,
The memories are bittersweet;
The taste you leave is still stuck in my mouth.
I want to touch you, want to breathe you,
Say, "Fuck you I don't need you - get out...right now."
We were strangers when we met
And we were strangers when you left
Into a shadow world of painted girls and marionettes.
Used to pride myself on living a life without any regrets,
But now that's gone, gone, gone.
How can such sweet kisses come from such a poison tongue?
How can a bed of roses hurt so much to lie upon?
It was the thorn beneath the flower that I wasn't counting on.
And now you're gone, gone, gone.
The memories are bittersweet;
The taste you leave is still stuck in my mouth.
I want to touch you, want to breathe you,
Say, "Fuck you I don't need you - get out...right now."
The city's not the same,
But all the streets they know your name.
They ask me all about you, but my answers pull up lame.
I'm staggering in last night's clothes and it's starting to rain.
And you are gone, gone, gone.
If parted by a river that was running deep and wide,
I'd build a boat to get to you or else I'd drink it dry.
Could fill it back up right now as the tears fall from my eyes.
And you are gone, gone, gone.
The memories are bittersweet;
The taste you leave is still stuck in my mouth.
I want to touch you, want to breathe you,
Say, "Fuck you I don't need you - get out...right now."
Babe if we should meet again way on down the road.
Do me this one favor and pretend we never knowed.
I'll say that you remind me of a girl I knew so long ago,
But now she's gone, gone, gone.
In John Ralston's song "Gone Gone Gone," the singer reflects on a failed relationship and the aftermath of heartbreak. He sings about how his former lover has changed, portraying herself as someone she is not. The lyrics suggest that the woman he loved was once very special to him, but now he is missing her immensely. The line, "The promise never harvested in fallow fields shall lie / In a shallow grave of stubble field and half-remembered lies,” symbolizes the broken promises that were made between them which were never realized or fulfilled. The phrase “shallow grave” creates a vivid image of a death or an end to something that was once alive. The singer recognizes that he was deceived and put on by his lover, further fueling his heartache.
The chorus of "Gone, Gone, Gone" speaks to the confusion and heartbreak that often accompanies a breakup. Though he misses her presence, he cannot bear to be with her, opting to say “Fuck you, I don't need you - get out... right now.” He acknowledges that he was a stranger when he met her and has become one again since she left. The city they shared together reminds him constantly of their time together and how inadequate he feels without her.
Line by Line Meaning
Lately you've been acting in a role that's unbecoming
You've recently been displaying behavior that isn't true to who you used to be.
Of the girl who taught me there was so much in this world worth living.
You were once the person who showed me how much the world had to offer and how beautiful life can be.
The part that you've been playing has me dazed and missing you.
Your current behavior has left me confused and longing for the person you once were.
But now you're gone, gone, gone.
You are no longer a part of my life.
The promise never harvested in fallow fields shall lie.
The potential that we had will never be fulfilled and will remain unfulfilled.
In a shallow grave of stubble field and half-remembered lies.
Our past is full of false promises and unfulfilled expectations.
A burning heart deceived me and you really put me on,
I was tricked by my feelings for you, and you betrayed my trust.
But now you're gone, gone, gone.
You've left me alone.
The memories are bittersweet;
My memories of you are both pleasant and painful.
The taste you leave is still stuck in my mouth.
I still feel the effects of my experiences with you.
I want to touch you, want to breathe you,
I long for physical and emotional closeness with you.
Say, "Fuck you I don't need you - get out...right now."
I want to let out my feelings of betrayal and hurt, and demand that you leave.
We were strangers when we met
We didn't know each other prior to our relationship.
And we were strangers when you left
Our relationship deteriorated to the point where we didn't truly know each other anymore.
Into a shadow world of painted girls and marionettes.
Our relationship became artificial and lacked true emotions or feelings.
Used to pride myself on living a life without any regrets,
I used to think that I didn't have any regrets about my past.
But now that's gone, gone, gone.
My life is now filled with regrets due to my experiences with you.
How can such sweet kisses come from such a poison tongue?
Your loving actions were contradicted by your hurtful words and behaviors.
How can a bed of roses hurt so much to lie upon?
Even though our relationship seemed perfect, it ultimately caused me a lot of pain.
It was the thorn beneath the flower that I wasn't counting on.
There was a hidden negative aspect to our relationship that I didn't anticipate.
The city's not the same,
The absence of you has changed my perception of the city we once shared.
But all the streets they know your name.
You left a lasting impression on the city and its people.
They ask me all about you, but my answers pull up lame.
People ask me about you, but I struggle to respond adequately.
I'm staggering in last night's clothes and it's starting to rain.
I am in a state of disarray and the world around me feels like it's falling apart.
And you are gone, gone, gone.
You're no longer a part of my life.
If parted by a river that was running deep and wide,
If we were separated by a great obstacle,
I'd build a boat to get to you or else I'd drink it dry.
I would do whatever it took to be with you again, even if it's impossible.
Could fill it back up right now as the tears fall from my eyes.
The sadness I feel is overwhelming and I cry uncontrollably.
Babe if we should meet again way on down the road.
If we ever cross paths again someday.
Do me this one favor and pretend we never knowed.
Act like we've never met to avoid any further pain or conflict.
I'll say that you remind me of a girl I knew so long ago,
I will pretend that you are a stranger from my past, with whom I had no emotional attachment.
But now she's gone, gone, gone.
Even though I pretend to forget, the memory of you still haunts me.
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Written by: JOHN RALSTON
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@robertc2562
2020 still here. This song should had got more credit than it did...
@babydolly9112
Who's listening 2019?
@clockrock6204
The last time I heard this song was in 2008 after my first break up. This song took me back 14 years.
@movieguruxx
great song!! i remember he was the opening act at a dasboard concert I went to a really long time ago and i instantly fell in love with this song
@lynh3557
alexia celebs me too! I really felt it too. Like deep in my bones
@annalisevolken7830
Whoa what a throw back!! I was there to, Seattle early 2000s. Great concert!
@weezie1982
Yes! That’s where I saw him too. But at Michigan State University
@meagenmay182
This is exactly how I fell in love with this song too.
@dancpa6798
I was there too
@davidcook5274
he came with city and colour, dashboard confessional, and himself. How could I ask for a beter line up? Winnipeg 2006