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MP3 Kate Van Horn - Truce

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MP3 Kate Van Horn - Truc
12 MB PHP File - Platform: MP3

Unpredictable yet accessible piano-centric textures, satiny vocal melodies and intriguing lyrics layered over a rockin' rhythm section.

12 MP3 Songs in this album (48:42) !
Related styles: Pop: with Live-band Production, Rock: Adult Alternative Pop/Rock, Solo Female Artist

People who are interested in Kate Bush Regina Spektor Tori Amos should consider this download.

piano, vocals: kate van horn. drums: vic carberry. accordions, recorder, harp, triangle, shakers: roxanne oliva. upright acoustic, arco, electric & messenger basses, bass pedals, electric 8-string mandolin, 12-string guitar, sitar: jeff martin. percussion on old feeling and truce: scott deal.

songs written by kate van horn. executive producer: mooka rennick. arranger and musical director: jeff martin. produced by matt wright, jeff martin and kate van horn. recorded and mixed by matt wright except truce, better than a dream, and dismal day mixed by jason andrews, jeff martin, and matt wright; additional mixing on giant moon and production by tim gennert. circa 1960âs baldwin sd10 9â concert grand piano technician: robert yambert. recorded and mixed at prairie sun recording in cotati, california. mastered by michael romanowski at 1340 mission in san francisco, california. manufactured by discmakers®.

love and gratitude to fans, friends & family, eleanor collins, howard rovics, john kasiewicz, shimer college, jennifer kasten, beau d., andrea fultz, kudisan kai, kevin marlatt & blue bear school of music, mooka rennick & prairie sun recording, rich tereshinski, jeff martin & everyone at studio e, vic carberry, matt wright, eric leavel, juan cassanova, robert yambert & yambert piano company, roxanne oliva, scott deal, peter viehoever, jason andrews, ron biden, adam weiss, wendy nicholson & krcb, andreina, pieter & andrew, kirsten gee & scrumptious skin, jill meuchel & sonoma county regional parks, rich trager photography, jeff kahn, jessica darrican, liz culley, roberta donnay, claude moens, garret leutbecher, andrew mastroni, marshall fassino, andre de channes & krsh, tim sarter, peter wilson, jack jacobsen, kevin m. nutt, joel line, maria beecraft, alec homb, frank hayhurst & zone music, michael romanowski, bret van horn & workshed interactive, james unick & everyone at discmakers, especially andre calilhanna & the 2008 IMWS folks, cameron wayland, romy olazabal, ric romano, travis elder, tim gennert, and dave paglia. special thanks to chuck van horn and maryanne mcfadden, eileen and brian eisberg, and max.

old feeling been waiting for the leaves to turn brown but it doesnât do that here you look funny at the grass and it burns down that time of year that permanent blue sky lights up at dawn so I know I saw a sun I thought I saw one new feeling but I was wrong itâs an old feeling nobody is hearing what Iâm hearing feeling what Iâm feeling way out here the ordinariness of this all nothing fishy in the air way out here in California and all the places where I thought I shared one new feeling but I was wrong itâs an old feeling nobody is seeing what Iâm seeing feeling what Iâm feeling way out here nothingâs made to last or hold forever so go last or donât go every blade of grass has burned one time so pass or let go itâs the same old feeling whereâs a new feeling somebody is hearing somebody is seeing feeling what Iâm feeling way out here dismal day not the kind of rain you can take with shoes off the peace of mind that came yeah you can now write that off you said youâd given up on everything said you were only coming for odds and ends and that was a dismal day how âbout we say our days donât go down that way any more had looked up then would have seen the next thing come tumbling in but no it was all so distracting I want to know the way to muscle through but hey sometimes I just donât like to thatâs some castle some fairytale I know it well gone straight to hell maybe or straight to my head not the kind of snow you can see white and wonder got places to go and itâs how youâre buried under the only open roadâs off of one thatâs closed I knew I couldnât trust those clouds our days donât go down that way any more quiet evening falls through the walls Iâll hear a train hear it and Iâll strain to listen only into the quiet the night silent and as it went thereâs nothing like the stars from up on this mountain fit everything into the quiet not full yet better than a dream what will you have when Iâm gone a picture of me a memory a messy room to clean up and you wonât know where to start what would I do would I ever leave you to shuffle the streets staring at my feet let people ask how come you never laugh and Iâll say I did once better than a dream come true life could never be complete without you and I wouldnât trade all of the hard times weâve been through every night strange disturbings however believed itâs skeptically but one thing I know as I know roses grow as near weâre on two feet there will be planted seeds of doubt and you will harvest one or two but in the end youâll know you came out better than any dream come true giant moon you really help me down off the giant moon balloon cruising over towns where is the abandoned next one will it come are we done way too soon or way too far gone something cold is it the sun some more warmth taken from you want to go and be buried under open skies the sizes youâve carried then burn the beams of all sunlight turn your back just like a giant moon in the room you really help me try everests and other mothers see in new light how Iâve never been seen above covers in the dark you hear your heart know your blood know where you end and you start and what is is what is no big thing living with this everests and I and every other one a lying down in dogs again donât believe these cries donât believe even what you see with your eyes feast them on your finest feed seems tens of times more than anymore needs for all the famine that is coming believe me so hold the standard up and drink it in will this fill enough of the cup when itâs empty shouldnât be chasing balloon strings for so long so dark to see just like a giant moon in the room truce. good riddance going so far into lairs of foe thereâs nothing I want any more to do good riddance what must go donât sit around in woe youâve still a pile plenty more to lose can choose for something not to be see the parties all agree and then proceed to run each other down another truce is uneasy really why should I believe there is still a reason to believe as penance made to know of all the sticks and stones so rigid against where the rage is fueled good riddance my soul be grateful you can go away from where absurdityâs the rule youâll be better off not to keep agreeing to disagree keep a healthy fissure down at heart reasons come and go like seasons you know always ready to send reinforcements go what must go be what may whatâs gotten out of it just might outweigh in the belly of the beast itâs better than in the teeth at least you know thereâs who wins and thereâs you bruise a bit too easily over-accommodating honey thereâs where all the great rebellions start another truce is uneasy whatever the reason to believe songs for a saturday night branch of me cut off my arm to spite the job of my hand then you see the line better that itâs a pencil line and do you want none of me that you canât have so starts up the cunning that running youâll find your own way back to me a touch of breeze sound the alarm I canât quiet this mob of demands so Iâm a tree much tethered to a pencil mine even when time tips us over pillow wish hold on tomorrow I know youâre ready to be begun wait just a minute even a minute makes a difference when I love it itâs an escape but itâs a waste too much at stake to be saying this itâs gotten too late oh no what youâre thinking Iâve seen this a million times donât believe me well God strike me down if Iâm lying sure is something this future weâre paving day and night under these pillows all the while wishing for one more bright so yet another morning and where are we what have we done so if itâs going to be like this always coming unhinged no grip on the time that still is watching us slip away when we get off this ride wiser by quite a few things we look in hindsight back in time always some hitches so take a wish say what if since thereâs no stopping this better get on with it easy pushed for the last time fading victories in their own ways make good stories in a past life details memories I canât even stand any more even rubber can break too long holding a bend been back flipping back to the same breaks again we have been chosen it seems weâve been sent to leave loose ends but itâs easy to be happy when youâre here so many troubles do disappear traded for new troubles yes my dear but itâs easy oh well hard to find heroes not fold your cards give up at zero but you canât tell itâs dive with a here goes hiding a deep well I fear those pretty nice words worth living up to when circumstance works instead of it working you hopeful beyond hope the ending conceived we live and breathe itâs easy to miss opportunities do too few good things take and give nothing breaking slowly along the way donât even need that kind of danger anyway or anymore I should say what were the times when were the days isnât there an easy way havenât found an easy way even when itâs easy afraid to fly a few runways lay between is that all you think of it afraid to rise afraid youâre free might sink so donât begin is the big deal all about some old dream old drink old doubt itâs relative now Iâve seen how to live without dreams to have given in in vain to have tried to run away so just close your eyes sing your last lullaby do you feel youâre getting light the time is right to say youâre not afraid to fly and say it while you try once a pattern we have flown becomes ingrained information I feel a draft Iâm slipping fast itâs all flying past the whole world trading in with the power of clipping wings you can make yourself feel nothing feathers out for a full view even on your way down they have to have a good look at you now splattered flat on your face splendid in your disarray so sweet just to stay on the sand stand both your feet on dry land itâs easier to believe your dreams are too grand a few runways lay between in front behind all around me afraid of flying afraid of seeing you have to rise above everything or else lucky I am something like seventeen miles I couldnât run even if I tried what kind of terror decides two to one when the moment flashes by you let a thing inside you let it let you cry so come on now maybe itâs crazy to believe this lucky I am before Iâve seen that rain go everything is a gift I could bring so you let me know if there is anything youâre afraid of wanting because it leads right to taking which as we well know just leads back to wanting to keep you in place Iâve got to turn away from Grace washing sometimes it all goes washing sure wish it wasnât just washing for seventeen miles the flowers grow wild but what does it matter one wish at a time where everyoneâs is tied hey could we be going nowhere everyone said if that is your basket baby donât put your eggs there everyone said itâs crazy come on now they said itâs crazy to believe love and war we may be marching right into our doom but our motto is march win or lose arms out fingers brushing I know Iâm human I know I have the strength how between all this love and war are we still standing we may be fancying a thing insane hey what can we fix of all these knots and frays in the final hour not even stitches stay yeah the whole thing does seem a little strange how between all this love and war are we still standing making believe that forevermore nothing bad will happen keep marching even though we might not even make it past the first offense keep marching


separate yet interconnected
tangibles of human existence and the symbolism thereof
thinking, will, action, power

coming to a balance, to a truce
opposites meeting in a common place
the terrors of living
the choices we make and how we enact them
finality, permanence

the crossroads
infinity, consonance, harmony
a cutting-edge epic
blood spilled
loyalties decided
no looking back

Kate Van Horn BIO
Singer-songwriter Kate Van Horn exerts a patent but subtle power in her performance and songwriting. She entices listeners into her inner space with clear and expressive melodies, intriguing lyrics, and vibe-heavy, piano-centric textures. Van Horn was born in San Francisco, grew up in southwestern Connecticut and now lives in the heart of California wine country. She began playing piano at age six, and singing and playing at twelve, when Tori Amosâ 1992 album, Little Earthquakes, worked its transformative magic. âLooking back, it was a critical point for me,â Van Horn says. âIt freed me within the pop form; Tori made me realize you donât have to be literal.â

Amosâ influence seeped into her style, evident in the way Van Horn creates dark piano spaces for her satiny voice to draw around, and in the way she revisits phrases like âway out hereâ in the song old feeling, changing it each time she sings it, so you never know if sheâs headed up or down. Thereâs an insistence to that particular song â the first track on her just-released independent album Truce â a steady pulse from the bass and drums, the piano clamoring as her voice rises, hesitant-to-strong: âI thought I shared one new feeling / but I was wrong / itâs an old feeling / nobody is feeling what Iâm feeling.â Her voice, at times delicate and at others full of attitude and awareness, mirrors our own emotional vacillation as we weather the array of complexities life presents.

Her songwriting is at once refreshingly original and yet also instantly classic, with lyrics like âitâs easy to be happy when youâre here / so many troubles do disappear / traded for new troubles, yes, my dearâ on the song easy. âMy songs are more experience-based,â Van Horn says. âIâm inspired to write based on what I feel intensely in a given moment, and then experiences filter through language and music and a patchwork of themes emerges.â Those themes include that of the faithful warrior on love and war, as her transcendent voice climbs, singing, âmaking believe that forevermore nothing bad will happenâ¦we keep marching.â The song pillow wish is an urgent waltz-gone-pop containing stark observations such as âyet another morning / and where are we / what have we done?â After that particular lyric, Kateâs sure soprano and sweet piano suddenly vanish in a moment of silence, readily illustrating the level of attention to detail she pays when writing and performing her songs.

She attributes her high standards to her âGreat Booksâ education at Shimer College and her singing skills to the âtwenty or soâ opera and voice lessons she took in 2006 at Blue Bear School of Music in San Francisco. Kate is comfortable in the upper registers, where she is really able to let her raw emotions loose. During the song lucky i am, we feel as if we are eavesdropping as she sings, poignantly, to herself, âyouâre afraid of wanting / âcause it leads right to taking / whichâ¦just leads back to wanting.â The piano notes here fall weightily like fat drops down a windowpane. Van Horn sometimes wraps other sad topics in an upbeat package thatâs part Joni Mitchell and part show-tune, like in the song dismal day, where Kate sings resignedly, âI knew I couldnât trust those clouds.â

Van Horn says she was fortunate to find such âamazing musical coloristsâ â fellow California musicians Vic Carberry on drums, Jeff Martin on bass and strings, and Roxanne Oliva on accordion and harp â to accompany her on her debut album, Truce, which Kate says has been âlong in coming.â Here, finally, is a collection that captures Van Hornâs dynamic range, her shifting, allegorical perspectives and her subtle power.

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