Joanna Newsom Quotes
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I can't play my songs on the smaller harp. I have a Celtic harp. I can't do the key changes.
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I have a deep rooted folk sensibility that I can't get away from completely.
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I have a recording that I did of instrumental songs.
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I killed my dinnerwith karatekicked him in the face,taste the body, shallow work is the work that I do.
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I am always trying to write.
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I played piano for about two years when I was a kid. I didn't play long enough to be really great.
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Water were your limbsAnd the fire was your hairAnd then the moon caught your eye,and you rose through the air.Well if you've seen true light,then this is my prayer:Will you call meWhen you get there?
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It's valid that the Strokes and the Pleased have been influenced by some of the same bands. But it's invalid in the sense that we listen to the Strokes and try to sounds like them. I think that they are a good band.
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I am consciously trying not to make it sound Celtic or African.
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You should listen to a lot of different music.
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People are often afraid for me. They think that I am going to break. I can make it through a set.
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I wasn't interested in writing music that wasn't beautiful for me to listen to.
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Coats of bouclé, jacquard and cashmere;cartouche and tweed, all silver shot -and everything that could remind youof how easy I was not.
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Wolf-spider, crouch in your funnel nest.If I knew you, once,now I know you less.In the sinking sand,where we've come to rest,have I had a hand in your loneliness?
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Well, yeah, I wanted to resist the urge to thicken everything up with instrumentation, because I just felt like I was interested in seeing how the songs did on their own.
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Then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precisionWhile, somewhere, with your pliers and glue, you make your first incisionAnd, in a moment of almost-unbearable vision, doubled over with the hunger of lions'Hold me close', cooed the dove, who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds.
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But inasmuch as that light is loaned, insofar as we’ve borrowed bones, must every debt now be repaid in star-spotted, sickle-winged night raids
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And all that we built, and all that we breathedAnd all that we spilled or pulled up like weeds Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocablyAnd we spoke up in turns 'til the silence crept over me.
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While yonder, wild and blue,the wild blue yonder looms.'Till we are wracked with rheum,by roads, by songs entombed.
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Emily, I saw you last night by the riverI dreamed you were skipping little stones across the surface of the waterFrowning at the angle where they were lost, and slipped under foreverIn a mud cloud, mica-spangled, like the sky'd been breathing on a mirror.
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I started playing harp about fourteen years ago.
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I wanted to write songs which I think is a different thing. I wanted to write music that is informed by folk music. The chord progressions are obvious references.
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In this life, who did you love,beneath the drifting ashes,beneath the sheeting banks of airthat barrenly bore our rations?
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People in San Francisco and the East Bay have shown interest, done interviews, and have come to shows. I guess that the news travels fast out of this island that we are on.