“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."
CARBON
Son Little Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Hit you with, this inverterbrate.
Raise your full, glasses celebrate.
I'll have a laugh no matter what you say.
Too gone, carbon.
Each one has its weight, only.
Used to drive you home, put the parking brake on.
We used to get it on, mom and dad was never home.
I'll sing the song, momma won't you sing along?
All night long, carbon.
Each one has its weight,
Only Mister Theodore, Lord of Astor.
Hey, you holding court
since the day you're born.
Well we might be richer,
but if your soul is poor,
get every wish and still you want more.
Oh my God, carbon.
Each one has its weight, only. Only
The lyrics to Son Little's song "Carbon" are a combination of compelling imagery and mysterious allusions. The song opens with the line "Chemistry won't let me wait," which seems to imply that the singer is impatient and has some urgent desire that must be fulfilled. He then sings about hitting someone with an invertebrate, although it's not clear if this is meant to be taken literally or metaphorically. The next lines, "Raise your full glasses celebrate, I'll have a laugh no matter what you say," suggest that whatever it is that the singer is waiting for, he intends to enjoy himself in the meantime.
The chorus of the song is "Too gone, carbon. Each one has its weight, only." This line is somewhat enigmatic, with multiple possible meanings. "Carbon" is a reference to the element, which has a specific atomic weight. This could be taken to mean that everything in life has its own specific weight, including emotions, actions, and consequences. It could also suggest that each person has their own unique burden to bear, which makes them who they are. The line "too gone" is harder to decipher, but it could be interpreted as a lament for something that has been lost or an expression of frustration with the way things are.
The second verse of the song is more personal, with the singer talking about his love life. He talks about how he used to drive his lover home and get intimate with her when her parents were away. He says he will sing a song and asks his mother to join in. The verse adds a touch of vulnerability to the song, as the singer reveals that he is looking for connection and companionship.
Line by Line Meaning
Chemistry, won't let me wait.
I can't wait because the chemistry between us is too strong.
Hit you with, this invertebrate.
I'll surprise you with something unexpected and powerful.
Raise your full, glasses celebrate.
Let's celebrate and enjoy life to the fullest.
I'll have a laugh no matter what you say.
I won't take anything too seriously and will always find a reason to laugh.
Too gone, carbon.
We've passed the point of no return, like carbon being converted to its most stable form.
Each one has its weight, only
Everything has its own unique value and importance.
My love is born, on the telephone
Our love has grown through phone conversations.
Used to drive you home, put the parking brake on.
I used to pick you up and bring you home.
We used to get it on, mom and dad was never home.
We used to have sex when your parents weren't around.
I'll sing the song, momma won't you sing along?
I'll sing a song and want you to join in.
All night long, carbon.
We'll be together all night long.
Each one has its weight, only Mister Theodore, Lord of Astor.
Everyone is unique and valuable, including Mister Theodore, a well-known figure.
Hey, you holding court since the day you're born.
You've always been a leader and had influence.
Well we might be richer, but if your soul is poor,
Money doesn't make you happy if you feel empty inside.
Get every wish and still you want more.
Even when you get everything you want, you still crave more.
Oh my God, carbon.
Expressions of awe and amazement, like the transformation of carbon into diamonds.
Each one has its weight, only.
Everything has its unique value and importance.
Contributed by Blake B. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
Daniel Koch
That smooth sound going directli into my brain <3
Mayra
chemistry! yass! love the blues-y/rock-y guitar, so nice!
upstart47
Superb stuff x
Kris Trznadel
This is great artist, brand new in this boring reality