For the second time, my Moxie Starpark archive journey unearthed a forgotten song. Joe Napoli stumbled on the first, “Unbroken Spirit”, collecting dust on a cassette tape in his studio. The second song was captured onto video tape by Bobby Heckman at a live show in 2000.
I received Bobby’s flash drive of video footage almost two weeks ago, the day before I left for a Cherry Grove family vacation. A beach gal to the core, I was in heaven, jogging and strolling through nature, lounging on the beach, or sipping coffee from the deck of the Ice Palace staring blankly at the Long Island Sound. My nights were filled with leisurely dinners, drag queen shows, catching up with my friend Linda who owns the ice cream shop.
The last thing I wanted to do was look at my computer. Yet this flash drive of unknown footage lured me to my laptop, late at night in that sliver of time between decompression and slumber. For starters, I posted each of five files to YouTube under the “private” setting so only Wendy could view.
I received a text from Wendy soon afterward. “What the fucking fuck is happening on the last one at The Downtown? At 19:50 and 37:40 we play songs I don’t recall, not even slightly familiar to me”…. The second one I remembered, “When You Were Alive”. It probably escaped Wendy’s recall because it lent itself better to country-folk arrangements. I played it more with my other bands, The Clam and The Pollynoses. But the first song? I had NO recollection. Wendy had no recollection. None of our fans ever mentioned it. For 20 years trading mix tapes, not a single person asked me if I had copies of that song.
The strange part was that I sang it. Which indicated that I wrote it. I’ve come across songs before and thought, “oh yeah! I forgot about that one.” But I never truly forget those songs. They just kind of fall out of my repertoire. They’re the ones I never practice or play, even to my dolls. Still, glancing at the mere title always jostles my memory. But YouTube reel 5 at timestamp 19:46? Absolutely no recollection.
Even stranger, at the risk of sounding conceited, was how good it was. Wendy and I really dug it. This was no side B “throw away”. I’m my own worst critic. Half the stuff I write because I’m propelled by some unknown force and I reach the point where I don’t know if I like it or not. I just need to create it. Yet here I was, a rare opportunity to experience a song as if it were someone else’s. To paraphrase Wendy, “it’s the best song I’ve ever heard!” To deflect taking 100% credit, a song is only as good as the band, and damn if Moxie Starpark didn’t crush it!
I revisited once or twice a night on the hotel bed. It took two nights, but aspects did come back. I remembered the song title was “Centerpiece”. I remember it was about wanting to be valued in a relationship for more than just appearance As in “I don’t want to be your centerpiece”. I remember the lyrics explored one day getting old, less attractive, with droopy tits. It was important that my partner (I believe in this instance, fictitious) appreciate my mind, heart and soul. And for some strange reason, I remember copyrighting it. Well, I can’t say foreseeing “getting old” is clairvoyant. Unless we die, we all age. But it’s so odd, as if my young self wrote a letter to my old self and I just came across the forgotten browning paper in a safe.