Rosie Thomas - Bhi Bhiman

Rosie Thomas

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It's been four years since I made a record. In the music industry every year is like dog years, so I guess it's been more like 28 years, and a lot has happened in that time.

First off, my thyroid broke. I didn't even know what a thyroid was, nor that I had one, until it totally freaked out on me. I honestly thought I was having a nervous breakdown, but thankfully there was finally an explanation to the extreme anxiety I was suffering. It wasn't a quick fix-it took two years, dropping two pant sizes, cancelling shows, being bed ridden, feeling like a shell of my former self and shedding a lot of tears down those "rosie" cheeks. Once I got it working right, I slowly became myself again.

It was like a great awakening: I arose one morning and I was back! I think I may have even pinched myself that morning to make sure I wasn't dreaming. For the first time I started appreciating the small things. The smell of lilac trees, fresh flowers in the house, a good cup of coffee, spending time with friends, crafting, relaxing (had I turned 80?); I literally took time to stop and smell the roses. Just when I thought I couldn't possibly be more compassionate or more empathetic, I became a pile of mush around those that suffer in any way, shape or form. I always felt that I had the emotional sensitivity for others down (thanks to my loving mother), but now I had some idea of what it was to suffer physically, too. It was all very humbling, but character building as well, and so I'm thankful for how it changed me.

In the midst of feeling like I had lost myself, someone found me and asked me to marry him. We got married on my grandpa's farm. We had a parade, a carnival and fireworks. I wore my mother's wedding dress. It was all terribly charming. Now there was love in my heart! So much love: love for music, love for the small things, love for others, love from my husband, love from my family, love from my friends, love for them, and love for life-again.

I began writing in different cities-first to LA, then on to Nashville and back to that small town in Kansas where we got married.

The songs were bigger, the melodies moved quicker and I even sang of love gained-not just of love lost this time. Whew! New for me! I listened to tunes I grew up loving, dissected them, asked myself what made them great and tried to push my songs to a greater level.

The songs just poured out of me. It was as if they had already been there, patiently waiting for me to give them permission to come out once I told them I was ready.

So off to Austin to Sam Beam's house to do some pre-production, friend hang, kid hang and see where we could take these new songs of mine, merely for the fun of it. What we did together inspired the direction for this record. He pushed me to stretch beyond what I normally do and told me, "It's important to make a record that makes you uncomfortable." To this point I had stayed pretty safe, pretty shy. I am forever grateful for the confidence he helped encourage me to find in myself.

I had always wanted to make a record in Nashville, so my brother Brian and I went off to begin work in the studio. Lets just say kindly and without pointing fingers that it went pretty bad pretty quick. I think my brother summed it up best one day in the studio when he said, "that's a wrap!"

So I headed back to Seattle without a record and without a plan. Dave Bazan reached out. He, like Sam, had a vision for me to make a record that showed more dimensions of my personality. He encouraged me to list every record I had ever loved, whether or not it was "cool," and the homework began. Bette Midler was first on the list. She has always been one of my favorites, but somehow she got lost in between the cracks of my favorite folk artists like Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins, or my love for Stevie Wonder. Forgive me, Bette! How could I forget that in seventh grade I tried to look up your home address so that I could send you a letter? (Don't worry about it, it's cool.) Or when I sang "Wind Beneath my Wings" in a thoroughly dramatic dedication to all the parents of my eighth grade graduating class. How could I forget how much you've made me laugh and cry? And then the light bulb went off: I have a big personality too! I love making people laugh and cry! That's me! Ol' Giggle Sobs!

Both Dave and Sam encouraged me to do three things this go around. "Belt it out Rosie, and bring in more of your personality, and more soul." I had finally written the songs to do it! Time to start singing out; not to worry-the slow sad songs are still there and always will be. Remember, I love to make people cry!

I sang my heart out; I forgot how loud I could get. I guess I did get cast as Miss Hannigan in my high school's junior year production of Annie for a reason. It was refreshing. After going through two long years of suffering I sang bigger than ever, my heart crying out; I was free! I was myself again and I was enjoying it. I was singing out of celebration. It was marvelous. I wasn't taking it for granted. I was back, a better me, a more confident me, a stronger girl with more to sing about. My heart was lighter too, and that bubbly personality of mine made a cameo or two.

Over the last year, we relocated from one coast to the other, from Seattle to New York. Since then I've learned how to get lost on the subway all by myself, that you should get all the way into the cab before you say "goin' to Brooklyn," and no matter how much you think you hear gunshots at night, always tell yourself it's fireworks. I toured with Iron and Wine, singing with Sam, and loving every minute of it. I love singing, but even more I love entertaining people-not just making them laugh and cry, but making them feel understood and comforted.

I feel like we all live in a time in which the heart is being forgotten. It is my great joy to comfort you and remind you that you are not alone. Life is about giving, that's where true joy is found, and this is my way of doing just that. I'm just trying to live the fullest life possible, so that means you get all of me: the songs, the voice, the comedy, a tugged heartstring or two and a good bit of laughter. Most important of all, you get my heart. It sure makes for one heck of a show!

In the last four years I have learned that with love, you can endure, prevail, transcend, fall apart, and rise again a stronger person. With love, I made a record that I hope will knock your socks off!

Rosie's music typically exists in the intangible realm of memory where childhood idylls meet adult expectations, and this album is largely no different. But These Friends of Mine finds Rosie more often channeling the concrete – the actual concrete, the streets and sidewalks of New York City.