Steven LaFollette

Steven LaFollette is a musician and lyricist who is ultimately looking to connect people through story in his work. Part poetry, part fable, his work weaves a thread of resolve, spirituality and earnest hope through a mix of narrative and vivid poetry imagery that is honest, melancholic and accessible. You can read your own meaning into the stories without sacrificing depth. His work in an invitation to collaborate as fellow storytellers.


#7 Suchergebnisse

This is the story of a brother and sister running for a new life in a new place and leaving behind them a broken home. The story swings back and forth between the reality of their getaway as an almost fairytale, and the reality of the two of them leaving on a train. A song of hope and the human experience through a Mark Twain-type narrative.
This is a love song, but with with monsters. The world looks different, darker even after you have your first child. This song is a conversation between a mother and father in the form of an epic as they make plans to face a world where the push and pull of fight or flight is a part of a journey toward the hope of stability and home. I wrote this song after a friend of mine first introduced me to the idea of there being a "Wildfire Season" in the western US. A time when people readied themselves and planned in case they needed to evacuate, not certain if they would lose everything. I hope you can see yourself in here somewhere. The song is optimistic but avoids drawing any final conclusions.
When I was in my early 20s, a friend of mine had this weird inclination to build a fort in our apartment. So, as grown men, we grabbed everything we could find and propped this thing up in the majority of our living room. When we weren't destroying the apartment, we would spend every night we could in the city. We had our spots like every does. We didn't know it, but in a matter of years some of us would be out of state, and none of our lives would look at all similar to that moment. Something about what we built together in our living room, and the network of places we enjoyed has always stuck with me. The places don't feel the same when I drive by them, but there's that sense of joy and longing that sit with me in that moment. This song is a farewell to a life stage I know better than to try to relive, a promise to be there for those who were with me at that time. This is personal of course, but I think we've all got a version of this. My best friend had me sing this for him and his wife on their wedding day and it's never meant more than it did in that moment.
A bank-robber tune, originally written as a waltz in 3/4. The song is a fun mix of familiar Bonnie-and-Clyde type imagery and morality tale, with the Biblical parable of the man who builds his house on the sand. The story is mostly for fun but packages the cinematic theme with a proverb of sorts.
In college my friend was dating this girl the somehow fit into our group as though she’d always been there. She’d cut his hair, patch clothing and be the first person to laugh if one of us fell on the ice. When she moved across the country and ended the relationship we all lost something. It was the first step in the exodus of friends that happens after college. I watched my friend quietly process his hurt. She buried hers in a positive exterior. I was too ignorant to see that at the time so I created my own internal narrative of her not caring as much. This song was processing. The metaphor was less veiled than I’d hoped and when I played it once I could see it wasn’t lost on her. We kept in touch but we’ve never spoken about the song. I’ve learned a great deal since then.