Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
Change is in the air, all over Liza Day's songs. They are portraits of what it means to be incomplete and to know a bunch of people who feel the same way. They are references to those many miscellaneous moments when you couldn't feel any more disjointed and lost than you're feeling right then. Everything's been transformed, flipped on its head and it feels as if someone's got a bonfire started. It could very well take off and turn out of control and it's the same way the nerves are, facing the time, facing these people you don't have to be stuck with if you don't want to be stuck with them.
The people that the Wisconsin native Day writes into her songs sound like sweet people, the kind who wish for the best for everyone, who never forget a birthday and who you'd consider indispensable. They are the kinds of people you choose to be in your life - for odd reasons or for reasons that everyone chooses such friends and lovers. They are normal and they're fun to spend time with, but rarely do these people move with us straight through to the ends of our lives. Things happen and they go away, or are cut out. Over time, they're all sad partings, but when they've just become immediate, they can seem like the most necessary of releases.
Day writes about the falling of leaves briefly in this session, but she mostly writes about falling people, those tumbling differently than they had been. She sings, "Do you know when the wind's gonna blow/Lie to me if you can," on the song "Summer Seeds," and it's a hopeful exchange, a desire for a cold front to sweep into the area, shift the air and wrap a body up. It's a want for a new day, for something to alter. "Don't Miss Me" is next and it's a charming story about a recent breakup that needed to happen, but it was one of those tough ones, where the people still love one another. They didn't want this split to happen, but there's no going back now and there shouldn't be. It feels like it was needed and still, the sentiments linger and are deep-set. Day sings, "Promise me you'll write me on the day that you fall apart." She might make a call on that day, but she's not going to stay. Everything's shifted, with the thought that this makes everything better. These people are secretly broken, but they're going to get by.