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The beat crept into the room. Then it vanished.
Before the beat came words.
From Westville to the Hill
West Hills / Newhallville
From Goatville to Upper State
Our neighborhoods make us great …
The words appeared as I awoke from a dream on a weekend morning. I felt rested. The sun was shining. All seemed well in the world. All seemed well in New Haven.
More words came. The beat followed. I imagined a church pianist banging it out. He began with a syncopated I IV-IV‑I chord progression. The bass picked it up.
Then the choir came in. Their voices were soaring when they hit the chorus.
New Haven!
New Haven!
Many voices
One song …
The beat slipped out of the room. I slipped out of bed to chase after it.
I followed it downstairs. There was no piano downstairs. No bass.
Just an old acoustic Gibson Gospel guitar.
I took the guitar out of the case. Started playing what I thought I heard upstairs in bed.
The beat was gone! At least the gospel beat was gone. Instead the music kept coming out of the guitar like a John Prine song. This John Prine song.
Where could the beat have gone?
I put down the guitar. Looked under the stairs. In the kitchen cabinets. Under the sink. No sign of it anywhere.
I spent the rest of the day rearranging the words in my head. Maybe the beat would come back.
Fair Haven to the Heights
Dixwell down to Dwight
Audubon / Edgewood
Mill River / West River / Bishop Woods
West Rock to East Rock
From the Annex to Morris Cove
Beverly & Beaver Hills
City Point / Cedar Hill …
New Haven .…
I had three verses. New Haven has three rivers. Those rivers need bridges. So these verses needed one too. What better place to group together the squares?
Trowbridge Square / Wooster Square / Kimberly Square!
Chatham Square / Ninth Square / Jocelyn Square …
Night fell. I gave up on the beat. Instead I turned on my phone. I pressed play and recorded what I had so far. That way at least the lyrics and tune wouldn’t follow the beat and disappear.
Here’s what it sounded like:
Maybe now I could enlist someone better equipped. Who could sing. And who had a beat.
Luck was on my side. Two days later I happened to have an appointment with a beat doctor.
His name is Joe Ugly. He produces hip-hop artists. He has a studio and a radio show.
We met up at my favorite vegan restaurant in town. We conducted business over jerk tofu to the beat of the restaurant’s never-ending Bob Marley soundtrack.
Back out on Church Street I pulled out my phone. I told Joe I wanted to play him something.
Joe leaned in to the phone. He tuned out the CT Transit buses pulling up and away. His eyes lit up. He smiled. We both knew what was needed. He told me: “Meet me at the studio.” The Ugly Radio studio. Land of beats. Upstairs from the Subway at Chapel and Temple.
I was hoping he’d enlist a real artist to perform the song. I was hoping he’d choose Kaylib. The young man who wrote and and performed and produced this great video with Joe Ugly.
Joe had other plans.
He put Kaylib behind the controls.
Then he ordered me into a recording booth. He told me to start reciting the lyrics. Without a guitar.
Joe enlisted another beatmaster named Kron Zilla (aka Zilla Man). A week later they had a remix.
It sounds like this:
The song had a beat back. Not the original beat. A new beat. A whole different feel.
Now the song needs a singer or a rapper. A voice. Many voices. It needs more beats. Many more beats.
Got a beat that fits this song? Got vocal cords? I invite you to record your own version of this song and .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)! We’ll publish in the Independent and broadcast it on WNHH FM radio.
Who knows? Maybe Kaylib will take the mic.
New Haven!
New Haven!
All our voices
Make us strong
