Tractor

I feel as though I've traveled around the globe in a tractor since my last letter. It has been that long and my skin feels tougher with a young finish, like I've gone back in time to see my life through a softer lens. There was time spent learning how to do nothing, some reconnecting with my family, and some learning how to accept all that I asked for when it finally came to me. The reward seemed ready and anxious when I surrendered to the fight and gave up on faith. Don't judge, we all have a breaking point, or many as far as I'm concerned.

Just over a year ago I released Black + Blue Pearl. I was working three jobs and sleeping very little for about a year before the recording to save up funds for it. I canned a producer after spending a chunk of money on him and musicians when I realized it wasn't sounding how I wanted it to. I refused to work so hard only to end up with an album I wasn't happy with. I had been there before and was not turning back. So, I picked up where we left off, kept what I felt good about and proceeded to record on my own with a good sound engineer, Joachim Horsley instrument by instrument, mixing each sound as I heard it in my head; essentially going with my instincts which have always been stronger than my musical ear.

During the final mixing stages I ran out of money and was "on my last rope". I was working double shifts and mixing through the nights because it was the only time the engineer got free studio time. I couldn't afford to pay for both. I remember falling to the floor at work with my first migraine headache in the girl's change room at the end of a shift. I traveled to Boston for the mastering session having had no sleep for almost a week. Redbull really works, coffe doesn't. By the end of the session I just sat there and cried. I couldn't hear anything clearly and was so afraid, knowing that I had given it all I had. If the record was a failure, I had nothing more in me so in effect, I was too. I felt so bad for the mixing engineer wanting to reassure him that it wasn't his fault while he sat dumbfounded, not knowing what to do with me. My friend Jordan (the encouraging voice through the whole recording process) came to save me. He was in good spirits jumping around the whole studio and making good conversation with Matt. Back at his place, he had the first listen to the record and told me how amazing it was-thank God! I'll never forget that.

So a year later, the album has generated a lot of fans and a few small successes. You can't help but feel good when you are hanging out somewhere and people just randomly start singing your songs. The funny thing is, people listen to your album and if they like it, think wow, this girl has her shit together. I've heard so many times, "congrats clara! You are doing so well." or at times, "I am so jealous." What they don't realize (and don't have to) is that I was the same person before the album that I am now (putting the whole growing and changing thing aside). I had completed something that I can say I am proud of to this day. However, my career and life up until that point had emptied me. I was like, "This is it. Take it or leave it. I don't really care what you say or do anymore." I had surrendered.

I like to think of this year as my restoration time. I have been restored by the many people who either listen to the album for the first time, latch onto a live performance, or have watched my hard head knock into things and keep going one too many times. They tell me directly or by whispered affect that I have to keep pushing not only for myself but for them; that I have no choice but to make music so I had better not stop. Some things I begged for every day upon the release of BB Pearl were: for a dependable manager, to leave my serving jobs for good, for a committed band, and a solid team of players who would help ComeTrue Records move above ground and become a launching pad for my career.

Life so has it that I have been coaching Tom Selementi for the past year on the ins and outs of the music industry as I have experienced it. We meet great people in strange places. He was the kitchen manager at Red Lobster who looked me dead in the eye while emptying a tray in dish, (a task he had done one too many times and really didn't need to use his eyes for anyway) and asked in a confident tone to be my manager. To which I replied, "for my music?" and he said, "yah." and walked away. I had had offers before, some that I pursued for a while but they all felt flaky to me. A year later, Tom has proven to be a strong and sturdy asset to ComeTrue Records and to my career. He has followed through with all he says which is the kind of character I am interested in working with. After a year of "testing him out" I believe whole-heartedly in my manager, Tom Selementi. With his help and business plan we both managed to leave our jobs in June to pursue the label full time.

After years and it seems thousands of musicians and endless chart-writing, I have found a good band of musicians who challenge me and make me feel good. It is not a lonely journey anymore AND I am not the only girl in the band!!! The two ladies that join me on stage, Kiri Jewell and Stef Bassett have become those important players in the ComeTrue team behind the scenes and at times, creating the scene. We have weekly meetings to chart our progress and keep working forward. We have had a successful music festival to raise money for ComeTrue Records, and are planning another one for the end of summer. Stef has created a podcast for the band which can be viewed on my home page: www.claralofaro.com
I also FINALLY received my artist visa after three years of an excruciating visa process, being trapped in the States and not able to see my family much because of it. The band traveled back to T.O. with me for our Canadian CD Release last month, the only Canadian follow-up show since the release of my first album, Night Light.

As I write this letter that has taken so long for me to compose (and so long for you to read!!) I realize that I have received all that I asked for. In light of my other letters to you, I conclude with a song poem. One I wrote when I realized I hadn't seen my mother in so long that she didn't know I had long hair...And one I wrote when I stopped believing and began my trip at tractor speed around the world. Wow, look what I've found.

tractor

Ma, my hair is longer than it's ever been
I've done it all backwards as I work at this machine
This machine called living that is just getting by
This broken down tractor that keeps me alive

The drain sifts my efforts,
I forget how to breathe
I forget this is worth it,
There is nothing that I need
Never known an easy battle
Never walked a straight line
And it takes too much out of me,
just to survive

You caught me on my last rope,
Waiting for the crane to blow me away
Handed me your last hope,
Waiting 'til I tried
And I don't know why

All that was so precious is nothing to me now
There's no more room for bullshit
The bittersweet gone sour
Catch up all the birdies and crush 'em in a cage
I'm not going to hold my waist,
I know that I can't save them

You caught me on my last rope
Waiting for the crane to blow me away
Handed me your last hope
Waiting 'til I tried
And I don't know why

Waited my whole life for one who'd understand my needs
One who'd look me in the eye,
and kiss me while I bleed
Your fragrance warms my soft spot,
It lives in my hair
There to give me one more chance
We both know life's not fair as you

Catch me on my last hope
Waiting for the crane to blow me away
Handing me your last rope,
Waiting 'til I try
And I don't know why


-clara lofaro '06