Touche Amore – Home Away From Here

A couple of years ago, I took a job that puts me on the road quite frequently. Not that business travel was or is all that appealing to me. Travel on its own terms has always had its appeals, though, and to the extent that my job sends me to Tel Aviv to work for a week, well, I can just take it from there when I’m on my own watch and my own dime.  Rarely have I had to work in the same city twice and it’s always in international locations.  I’ve stumbled into quite a unique gig, but it’s also unlocked or otherwise created a fatal form of non-commitment that is not constructive to my local life.  Whenever I come home, it’s never long before I want to get back out on the road for a few weeks, when I can land in a new city with fresh anonymity and independence.

This song from Touché Amoré’s second album Parting the Sea Between Brightness and Me has become a sort of conflicted road anthem for me.  I know that practically needing to be away from home is nothing more than a crutch, a way to avoid confronting whatever insecurities or inadequacies exist inherently in my own life when the smoke and mirrors allure of international travel is disregarded.  Lead singer Jeremy Bolm sums this feeling up for me way more poetically than I ever could.

It’s just that I have this problem
Where I want to be everywhere I’m not
I’m thankful for what I’ve got
A room in a house where my bed may stay
But the feel of another’s sheets help keep my demons away

I’ve missed weddings, birthdays, concerts I’d have loved to go to…there are a lot of meaningful moments which I’ve given up.  And for what?  I struggle with the net value of this gig, the debits and credits that underlie this supposed achievement of being well-traveled.  I think moving back to Rhode Island at 27 got me a bit insecure.  I always thought I’d end up back here permanently much later in life; there’s a “so this is it, huh?” feeling that I can’t shake.  The road becomes a distraction from this fear that I’ve arrived prematurely at the rest of my life.  Those lost moments are collateral damage.

It’s become clear that what keeps me here
Is the sense of failure and other nightmares
I’ve become jaded and I can’t escape it
The thought of settling when I know it’s what I’ve hated
It’s just I have this problem
Where I want to be everywhere I’m not
It’s just I know myself and I’ll sacrifice everything I’ve got

Being well-traveled may have some value, but I’m starting to think there’s nothing less attractive than lack of commitment.  It’s never long before my next flight taking me away to another continent for two or three weeks.  Friendships and relationships pretty much get put on ice for the duration.  People start to feel more distant, and in kind it’s easy to start feeling dispensable.  Commitment’s like anything else: you get what you give.

This place looks better from a passenger window
Or stared at from above
But when you’re chasing brightness
You lose concern with the damage done
It’s not my fault
I’ll try to call

Well put, Bolm.  I guess I’m chasing brightness, whatever that is.  He’s obviously writing from the perspective of being on the road touring with his band.  My own experience as an artless business traveler is of course wildly different.  Touché Amoré’s basically made it at this point, having been signed to Deathwish and getting a decent amount of visibility on their most recent album Is Survived By (which dropped last week).  But I’m sure earlier in their career they rolled into some cities without even knowing if they’ll be spending the night (never mind the specifics of where) or riding through it to the next gig.  My own experiences on the road is nowhere close to being something as peripatetic as that, but I can certainly relate to the insecurities that inspired this song.  That said, I’m not yet as jaded. I don’t want to get to a point where I find myself relating to his last defiant, delusional scream – No ties, no roots, I’m fine.

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