“I was always a writer," says the man formerly known as Aaron Livingston. "Before I really learned music, I was serious about writing. Didn’t matter what it was. Just playing with words.”
Considering how long he's been making music, that's saying something. Born in Los Angeles to a preacher and a teacher, as a kid he absorbed songs from dusty family records and learned saxophone and piano, though he felt more at home inventing his own language on those instruments rather than following the lesson plan. Adapt or die, as they say.
Cycling through jazz, rock and R&B history, the hungry young son was beginning his true education. A few years later, the Livingstons moved to Queens, introducing Aaron to the active arts of hip-hop, basketball and city life. High school in suburban Jersey left him wanting more, so he headed to Manhattan and Columbia University, where he discovered art, recreational substances, and girls, girls, girls. He dropped out, got a job, got sad, kept journals. He moved to Philly, enrolled at Temple University, met the legendary Roots crew, even played music with them; they put his voice on an album, undun. He had a daughter, then a son. He was happy, still writing all the while.
Then, slowly, the music stalled. Faded. He got another dead end job. He checked out of days. He got sad again. He forgot how to adapt.
But, as it has the ability to do, the songwriting saved him. It was in his blood, he remembered. Coltrane. Hendrix. Santana. Tribe. And this time he vowed to never let it go. That's not to say he's always happy; he's human, after all. But making music helps keep things in perspective.
"I feel the weight of life as I always did, as everyone does," he says. "But I feel the weight lifted, because I love doing this. And the more I do it, the more I love it."
Son Little writes everywhere, every day, finding inspiration on the train, in a car, on the street, in the supermarket, with his children. Sometimes the ideas are fresh. Sometimes a tune comes from his past, a single spark. Nothing is off limits.
"It could be just a thought, and everything else comes from that," he says. "In one of my books could be a phrase that later is a song, and then the song becomes a whole catalog. It’s gotta germinate from somewhere."
Inspiration firmly struck, the song begins to bloom. There are many channels to Son Little's broadcast, varied stops on the dial, from blues to soul to funk to folk, and jook-joint jazz and chamber pop and back again. His voice—raw, weary yet alert, grave and gravelly, Marvin and Otis and Stevie all at once—soars and creeps, cracks and moans. His songs haunt, thrill, yearn and stomp like all the best work of his heroes.
And the learning never stops. Little has collaborated with highly respected artists like The Roots and the producer/DJ RJD2, mentoring under the former and creating a duo with the latter called Icebird, which allowed him to flex his considerable vocal chops and song arrangement skills.
"I've always loved the studio, but RJ helped me see how I can use it more effectively and find ways to challenge myself, and be inventive with sound. And The Roots, it’s hard to quantify what I’ve learned from them. Everything from how to rehearse to how to occupy the stage and command it…two things that are very fundamental in this business, and they are masters."
This fall sees the release of the first recorded output from Son Little for Anti- Records, an EP called, wouldn't you know it, Things I Forgot. Six songs: three babies (released first as videos), two twins, and an RJD2 remix. It's all there, all those misremembered things: Triumph and trophies, hardship and heartache, soft sentences, loud chapters, facts and birthdays, faces and places and scrapes and scales, nights and weeks and years all lost, gone into the ether, slipped away, out-sizing our normal human bandwidth.
"The singles, 'Cross My Heart' and 'Your Love Will Blow Me Away When My Heart Aches' and 'The River,' were more or less written consecutively," he says. "And so I think they were sort of internal responses to one other, complements. It's harder to place but I’ve been tinkering with the other two, 'Joy' and 'Alice,' for a long time. They’re sort of akin to one another in terms of mood. This is a small collection and maybe it's not as much a singular vision...it's more of a handful.”
A grip of memories; Things He Forgot. Son Little writes to remember, matching the disparate vibes of his full, full life with a patchwork blanket of sound, experience and inspiration. Inventing, observing, adapting. And still, it grows.
"I don’t see any end to the learning," he says. "And to understanding more of something that you immerse yourself in. Could be anything, again. Right now I’m immersed in this music and I feel that my understanding appreciates and changes scope and perspective. It's really rewarding in its own way."
Belladonna
Son Little Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Lemme see what I can prescribe
Wanna come and get right?
Well, the pleasure's all mine
Hey, beautiful lady
Got me pulling down the nightshades
So heavily sedated
She is coming
Suddenly everything ambrosia
Color it green for the memories (yeah, yeah)
Gimme your loving Belladonna
Can′t help myself, I need some sugar, please
In the jungle it grows (jungle it grows)
Find the time to examine my injuries
Into the jungle we go (jungle we go)
Settle my nerves and rattle my enemies
She's coming ('cause it goes still a burning)
Suddenly everything ambrosia
Color it green for the memories (yeah, yeah)
Gimme your loving Belladonna
Can′t help myself, I need some sugar
You′re a flower
And a rose is still a rose
I know (I know) (I know)
Now, I'm out on the curb
Tryna think of the right words
Got some help I don′t need
Only came for the dopamine (came for the dopamine)
Hey, beautiful lady
Got me pulling down the nightshade
So, heavily sedated
As the night fades to day
She's coming
Suddenly everything ambrosia
Color me green for the memories
What are you smoking, Belladonna?
Can′t help myself, I need some sugar, please, yeah
Suddenly everything ambrosia
Color me green for the memories
Gimme your loving Belladonna
I can't help myself, I need some sugar, please
The lyrics to Son Little's song "Belladonna" depict a narrator who is in pain and seeking a remedy for their suffering. The opening lines suggest that the singer is offering a solution to the person in pain, perhaps offering their love as a source of healing. The phrase "Wanna come and get right?" implies that the singer believes their presence and affection can provide comfort and relief. They express that it would be their pleasure to help this person.
The chorus introduces the character of Belladonna, who is described as a beautiful lady. The use of nightshades and sedation imagery implies that she possesses a mysterious and intoxicating allure. The singer is heavily drawn to her, becoming infatuated and intoxicated by her presence as the night turns into day. The phrase "Suddenly everything ambrosia" suggests that Belladonna's presence transforms the world around the singer into something heavenly and divine. "Color it green for the memories" could be interpreted as a reference to the intoxicating effects of Belladonna, altering the singer's perception or memory of their experiences with her.
The second verse continues to evoke a sense of enchantment and danger. The jungle symbolism represents a wild and untamed aspect of life. The singer suggests that in this jungle, they are examining their injuries, possibly referring to the emotional or psychological wounds they carry. The mention of settling nerves and rattling enemies implies that Belladonna provides both comfort and strength in facing personal struggles. The repetition of the phrase "She's coming" reaffirms the singer's anticipation and desire for Belladonna's presence.
Overall, "Belladonna" explores the themes of pain, desire, and the allure of a charismatic figure who offers relief and excitement amidst the chaos of life.
Line by Line Meaning
You're in pain all the time
Your anguish is a constant companion
Lemme see what I can prescribe
Allow me to suggest a remedy
Wanna come and get right?
Do you desire to find solace?
Well, the pleasure's all mine
I would be delighted to assist
Hey, beautiful lady
Oh, magnificent woman
Got me pulling down the nightshades
You have me lowering the dark veil
So heavily sedated
Intensely tranquilized
As the night fades to day
While darkness transforms into light
She is coming
She is approaching
Suddenly everything ambrosia
In an instant, all becomes exquisite
Color it green for the memories (yeah, yeah)
Tinge it with green to recall the past
Gimme your loving Belladonna
Grant me your affection, Belladonna
Can't help myself, I need some sugar, please
I am unable to resist, I crave sweetness
In the jungle it grows (jungle it grows)
Within the wilderness it thrives
Find the time to examine my injuries
Make space to assess my wounds
Into the jungle we go (jungle we go)
We venture into the untamed realm
Settle my nerves and rattle my enemies
Calm my anxiety and unsettle my foes
She's coming ('cause it goes still a burning)
She approaches (for the fire still persists)
You're a flower
You are a delicate blossom
And a rose is still a rose
And a rose remains true
I know (I know) (I know)
I understand
Now, I'm out on the curb
Now, I find myself on the street corner
Tryna think of the right words
Attempting to find the perfect words
Got some help I don't need
Received assistance that I do not require
Only came for the dopamine (came for the dopamine)
Came solely for the pleasure-inducing neurotransmitter
Suddenly everything ambrosia
Abruptly everything becomes heavenly
Color me green for the memories
Tint me with green to evoke nostalgic recollections
What are you smoking, Belladonna?
What substance are you inhaling, Belladonna?
Can't help myself, I need some sugar, please, yeah
I cannot resist, I long for sweetness, please
Suddenly everything ambrosia
Unexpectedly everything becomes divine
Color me green for the memories
Dye me with green to remember
Gimme your loving Belladonna
Give me your affection, Belladonna
I can't help myself, I need some sugar, please
I am unable to resist, I crave sweetness, please
Writer(s): Aaron Earl Livingston
Contributed by Joshua N. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
12crows1
Absolutely love this song!
One More Rep
Awesome song