Singled Out: Matthew Mayfield
Time does not heal all wounds. In fact, time can do quite the opposite when the stars align just right.
When I'm on the road, I spend a lot of time looking out the window. Last fall, I found myself in the back of a van watching the signs pass while singing a simple three note melody; 'miles and miles and miles and miles…' It never stopped. There was an endlessness about it that I knew would be perfect if I could just find the right chords to keep the repetition interesting. The music arrived really quickly in the bowels of a dozen grimy greenrooms across the East coast, leaving me with only the lyric to chase.
I fumbled around with a million different ideas over the next week -- none of which kept my attention and all of which felt cheap and vanilla. One morning I started seeing signs for Asheville, North Carolina (our last stop on the tour) and my stomach began to sink. For me, songs always happen in those moments when the jabs and reminders are fresh on your heart. Why didn't I feel better after all that time away from that relationship/that connection? Why did it still affect me so heavily? It quickly hit me that as the time and the physical distance had increased after losing her, so had the weight and the sting of grief. That's where the chorus came from:
it comes from miles and miles and miles…'
I've got a feeling I'm not the only one who's felt it before. Here's to the a song's ability to build a bridge and connect us when we need it the most.