Wednesday, April 13, 2022, 7:00 PMTaplin Auditorium, Fine Hall

Andrew Kaneb ’22CompositionAndrew Kaneb | Kaneb Andrews: A SeniorComposition ShowcaseOriginal compositions and songs by Andrew Kaneb, performed byAndrew Kaneb and others.

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SENIOR RECITALS SERIES | SPRING 2022

Featuring:Jonny Salama ’22, Electric GuitarBenjamin Edelson ’23, Electric Bass

Christina Bradley ’23, CelloAlbert Zhou ’24, ViolaSam Hanson ’24, Violin

Scan this QR code with your smartphone to access an expandedprogram with bios, notes, and more.

Admiral Jones Andrew Kaneb ’22, Vocals and Acoustic Guitar Jonny Salama ’22, Electric Guitar Benjamin Edelson ’23, Electric BassDuration: 6 minutes

Sundance Andrew Kaneb ’22, Vocals and Acoustic Guitar Jonny Salama ’22, Electric Guitar Benjamin Edelson ’23, Electric BassDuration: 4 minutes

This Empty Pain Andrew Kaneb ’22, Vocals and Acoustic Guitar Jonny Salama ’22, Electric Guitar Benjamin Edelson ’23, Electric BassDuration: 5 minutes

Beneath Your Balcony Andrew Kaneb ’22, Vocals and Acoustic Guitar Jonny Salama ’22, Electric Guitar Benjamin Edelson ’22, Electric BassDuration: 5 minutes

Gas In My Car Andrew Kaneb ’22, Vocals and Acoustic Guitar Jonny Salama ’22, Electric Guitar Benjamin Edelson ’23, Electric BassDuration: 4 minutes

Sundance Andrew Kaneb ’22, Violin Sam Hanson ’24, ViolinDuration: 4 minutes

Admiral Jones Andrew Kaneb ’22, Violin Sam Hanson ’24, ViolinDuration: 6 minutes

PROGRAM

ANDREW KANEB ’22Arranged for String Quartet

by Andrew Kaneb

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ANDREW KANEB ’22Arranged for String Quartet

by Andrew Kaneb

ANDREW KANEB ’22

ANDREW KANEB ’22

ANDREW KANEB ’22

Albert Zhou ’24, ViolaChristina Bradley ’23, Cello

Albert Zhou ’24, ViolaChristina Bradley ’23, Cello

ANDREW KANEB ’22

ANDREW KANEB ’22

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Admiral Jones I actually wrote this song while I was in Sundance, Wyoming, which I talk abouta bit below. It was fun for me because the world in the song is so drasticallydifferent from the one I was living in at the time. I like the role that scales play inthe melody lines. I once had a violin teacher look at me and say quite seriously,“You know, scales are beautiful.” I think people tend to forget that. We think ofscales as drills and not melodies or pieces of music in their own right. But in thissong most of the melodic lines in the vocals are just going up and back downthe scale. I arranged this song for string quartet this past winter.

Sundance In the summer of 2019, I lived in Sundance, Wyoming, for two months. It’s a tinytown of about 1,000 people in the Black Hills near the South Dakota border. Iwrote this song about a month after I left Sundance. In 2021, I recorded it formy debut album. When I brought the song to my producer, he had the strangeidea to cut out a measure of each phrase in the verses. It ended up giving theverses a relentless feel, with the words tumbling out uncontrollably, which Ireally like. This past winter, I arranged the song for string quartet. The recordedversion of the song has electric guitar, brass, and drums, among otherinstruments, so it was exciting for me to explore a new sonic space whilearranging the song for a string quartet. I really leaned into the syncopatedtiming, which you can hear throughout the piece but especially in the two violinparts in the opening measures.

This Empty PainI wrote this song in August or September of 2020 and recorded it in March of2021. The recorded version of it is one full live take. It’s special for that reason.There’s a delicacy and vulnerability to it that can only come from having peoplesit in a room together and play a song. Hopefully we can replicate some of thatonstage tonight. The imperfections and extraneous noises—sounds ofbreathing, creaking chairs—that come from playing something live are whatgive songs a human quality. Everyone seems to think this song is a bit of a

PROGRAM NOTESBy Andrew Kaneb ’22

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downer and I guess I can see why, but I actually think it's quite sweet. It makesme feel secure.

Beneath Your BalconyI wrote this song while I was in a songwriting class in the Fall 2021 semester,and it has a few features that reflect that. First, I’m singing pretty low in myregister for most of the song. I was sick when I first recorded the song, so I sangan octave down. A few classmates liked my voice in the lower register, so Idecided to keep it there for most of the song. Second, the long “I” at thebeginning of the second verse was a bit of an accident. When I first recordedthe song, I had to scroll to read the rest of the lyrics on my phone, and Icouldn’t play while I was scrolling, so instead I held out the “I” so there wouldn’tbe an abrupt silence on the recording. But when I showed my classmates, oneof them really liked the break and the stretching of the “I.” It’s jarring. It gives thelistener time to process the lyrical content of the previous two lines. And thelong “I” sounds a bit like a scream in response to the dark content of the firstchorus. So I leaned into it. It keeps the listener from feeling too settled or secure.

Gas In My Car This is one of the very first songs I ever wrote. I was nineteen, I had just boughtmy first guitar, and I was learning to play. This was the first song I wrote with it. Ishunned this song for a few years after writing it. People would say they wantedto hear it, but I didn’t understand why, because I felt like it didn't really reflectmy writing and playing style. Recently I started playing it again, partiallybecause it was exciting to see how strongly people responded to it, andpartially because I got over myself and realized that no song I write (and nosong in general) will ever be beneath me. And this past January I recorded it,more than three years after I wrote it. It’s been sweet and nostalgic to revisit it.

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LYRICS

Admiral JonesThe Admiral’s one-way tripBegins on the runway stripHe chews on his lip as he fastens his seatbelt clipThe expiring human raceIs sending a prayer to spaceAnd he sits there and waits while sweat rolls down the side of his face

Oh Admiral JonesIs not coming homeSo lay your bouquetsDown at his tombstoneWith letters that say“We thank Admiral Jones, oh Admiral Jones, for not coming home”

His ship starts to leave the groundThe engines make screaming soundsTakes his final look down as his vision gets lost in the cloudsFifty days later onAll of his fuel is goneHe’s just coasting along wondering how he could go so wrong

Oh no Admiral JonesIs not coming homeSo lay your bouquetsDown at his tombstoneWith letters that say“We thank Admiral Jones, oh Admiral Jones, for not coming home”

He glides with no trace through the silence of space and he closes his eyesWhen a light hits his face and he slowly wakes to the star-studded skiesThrough the glass to his right, there’s something in sight just a bit farther onAnd it’s blue and it’s green, like he’s seen in his dreams, in the light of theintergalactic dawn

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And Admiral Jones grabs his satellite phoneAnd with uneven breath in a desperate toneScreams into his headset“My name’s Admiral Jones, oh Admiral Jones, and I’ve found your new home.”

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Sundance I write you letters I don’t sendSpend my nights with a ballpoint penMy yard has fences I don’t mendIt’s filled with gardens I don’t tendI don’t see women don’t see menDon’t see myself speaking againYou left I can’t remember whenOh I was so much younger then You cut your hair and moved to FranceAnd I grew mine long for the winter’s strong in Sundance The wind kept bringing in the stormThe rain was cold the air was warmYou left your house key in the doorYou did not need it anymoreAnd my hands were shaking as I pouredI just kept spilling on the floor You stuffed a bag with what was yoursTaxi came for you at four And I was too far gone to standSo you wrote your goodbye on my handCut your hair and moved to FranceAnd I grew mine long as I went wrong in Sundance I think of you most nights and daysYou drift in mist around my placeYour dress is black and made of laceAnd there’s some dark shade upon your faceEach day I follow you in chaseTrying to reach for your embraceBut my drunken footsteps lose your traceAnd I just fall through empty space

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I’m always too far gone to standSo you write your goodbye on my handCut your hair and moved to FranceAnd I stayed behind and lost my mind in Sundance

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This Empty PainDirty sheets I only eat so that my stomach won’t groanI feel beat too tired to meet so I call you on the phoneBut when I speak I feel so weak inside the cellular droneTorn between coming clean and telling you to leave me alone

For I can’t explain this empty pain it just existsLike my last name or a picture frame around things I miss

If I could defy it I swear I’d try it with all of my human mightI’d close my eyes and brace my spine and hold on til my knucklesturned whiteBut it’s undefined it eludes my mind as it drifts in and out of my sightIt shifts in size and it tells me lies but it always refuses to fight

No I can’t explain this empty pain it just existsAnd it won’t be solved by firm resolve or hands in fists

But when you appear and draw me near I no longer feel like a hostTo some severely unloved fearful lonely forgotten ghostIt’s still unclear what brings it here and I guess that I’ll never knowBut if you never hear me shed a tear I promise you I get close

No I can’t explain this empty pain it just existsBut sometimes it flees like memories and happiness

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Beneath Your Balcony In rows they march beneath the archTo lay you down to restA bright bouquet your mother madeSits softly on your chestBut from afar out in the yardI can’t hear what they sayAnd when I try to close my eyesAnd bow my head to pray I stare with guiltUpon the hiltBy which your precious blood was spiltAnd wonder whyI too don’t lieIn a tomb so prematurely built I spend my nights beneath street lightsWhich drift above my headAnd ask of me so worriedlyWhy don’t you just go to bedBut their lazy glow so soft and lowJust leads me to your stepsWhich I would climb time after timeTo watch you as you slept Now your balconyHangs over meAsks why I felt so easilyEntitled toAbandon youTo that long dark eternity I could not bear your fatal dareAnd so I wait alone

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But no one’s there and I don’t careTo throw another stone So is this how I must live nowYour gentle breath is goneJust sitting here with useless tearsThat won’t stave off the dawnI need to go that much I knowBut still I am afraidThat if I leave or cease to grieveYou will have been betrayed But JulietI will not letOur tragedy become my debtTo you or meOr your memoryWhose dying words fell down unmet

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Gas In My CarIt’s something between a past life and a dreamThat I should’ve gave up on when I turned eighteenIt comes and it goes and it sounds like a songI hear it sometimes and it strings me alongSo I spend all my money on songs and guitars’Til my parents ask why there’s no gas in my carBut gas money’s cheaper than music to meRather sound like Bruce Springsteen than ride like James Dean I’m young and I’m dumb and I’m scared of the darkAnd I only sing when I’m alone in my carAnd I know that I probably won’t make it so farExcuse me and my childish heartI’m boring as hell and my voice isn’t greatBut I like playing music and staying up lateI lie in my bed with this song in my head and it tells meTo hold on, to hold on Well people grow up and forget all that stuffAnd they lie and they say that they didn’t give upOn the dreams of their youth in the fight against timeYou can’t stop once it starts and you can’t hit rewindSo here I am laying in the dead of the nightWishing I could still hold you while dark turns to lightAnd that’s dead and gone, that’s the point of this songBut sometimes I still picture you singing along I’m young and I’m dumb and I’m scared of the darkAnd I only sing when I’m alone in my carAnd I know that I probably won’t make it so farExcuse me and my childish heartI’m boring as hell and my voice isn’t greatBut I like playing music and staying up lateI lie in my bed with your voice in my head and you’re telling meTo move on, to move on

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I’m young and I’m dumb I’m still scared of the darkAnd I promised I’d always keep you in my heartAnd maybe that’s wrong, but my memory’s strongSo I won’t have to work too hard I’m boring as hell and my voice isn’t greatBut I like playing music and staying up lateI lie in my bed with this song in my head and it tells meTo hold on, to hold on

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One More Trip Around The SunPrinted papers white and grayJust exhaust meAll attention that I payOnly costs meSo I ignored the news todayBut should I ratherHang on every word you sayAs if it matters

In one more yearI’d still be waiting here Politics is lots of funIf you care toPick a fight with anyoneWhose features scare youIt’s not hard to say you’ve wonIn a landslideHalf the nation when you runHas its hands tied And it feels too lateTo join in your debateBut still I fearI’m wasting my time here I feel as though I have been framedAnd you don’t even seem ashamedMy whole future’s just your gameAnd you don’t even know my name But in one more trip around the sunWould it kill youTo examine what you’ve done

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Or find the willTo look ahead at what’s to comeWhat lies before youOn behalf of everyoneWho can’t afford to I’m far too tiredTo act like I’m inspiredBy words I hearIn answers so unclearIs it so hardTo extend your regardTo those who fearYou’d watch them disappear

ABOUT

Andrew Kaneb ’22Andrew Kaneb is a senior from Cambridge, Massachusetts. He began studyingmusic at the age of seven when he started taking classical violin lessons. Heplayed in orchestras, in chamber groups, and solo at the New EnglandConservatory through high school. During high school, he also began playingcontemporary rock and pop music as a fiddler in a friend’s band. He beganplaying acoustic guitar, singing, and writing songs seriously after his freshmanyear at Princeton. In 2020, he traveled to Austin, Texas in order to record a full-length album of original songs, which he released in July 2021 under the nameKaneb Andrews. He returned to Austin in January 2021 and recorded six moresongs, which he will release as an EP, entitled Beneath The Paintings On TheWall, on April 15. He has played at a variety of venues in the Princeton area andin New York City. Some of his largest musical influences include Bob Dylan,Bruce Springsteen, Joni Mitchell, and The Beatles.

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