Questions at Thirty
Lyrics & Credits
The first live album
by Chase Tremaine
Released November 18, 2022
Independent, in partnership with Post Emo Records
Experience the album in its intended format, live performance videos, on YouTube:
1. “I’m sorry, how do I know you?”
Memory is fleeting
Or is it self-defeating?
Conjuring up meaning
In the scenes that I am stealing
Took twenty years to get any good
At matching faces to names
So it might take another twenty more
To match persons to a place
I know we’re in Nashville
But did I meet you in Dallas?
It doesn’t make much sense
But it’s my most common guess
Grand Canyon? Gottingen?
Zero bells are ringing
So why do people have to remember me
Why do people have to remember me?
Memory is fleeting
Or is it self-defeating?
Conjuring up meaning
In the scenes that I am stealing
Memory is fleeting
Or is it self-defeating?
Conjuring up meaning
In the scenes that I am stealing
So how do I know you?
Well, it’s probably Starbucks
But are you a barista or a regular?
And was it Nipper’s Corner
Or one of the dozen stores that I would frequent before?
Well, it’s probably Starbucks
But are you a barista or a regular?
And was it Nipper’s Corner
Or one of the dozen stores that I would frequent before?
2. “How’s married life?”
“How’s married life?” Bruce asked us
But I just wanted to talk about him
How the hospital was, how the treatment’s going
And if he’s actively still feeling sick
“What’s the biggest surprise you’ve learned so far?”
He inquired with sincere curiosity
As he’s facing down the biggest challenge of his life
I’m amazed that he still cares so much about me
And while I look up to him as a master of life
He looks up to me as I stand next to my wife
And says, “Don’t be a fool like me, don’t take so long to see
“That loving her is the greatest work
That could ever be accomplished by your heart or your hands
Your soul must never be deterred
No music, dream, or job can claim a greater demand
And train your heart to be content
You’ll cripple yourself if you’re always aiming for more
And at the end I’ll hope you spent
Your life, above all other things, pursuing the Lord”
“Do you see my wife?” Bruce asked
“God has been good to me. Now look at your wife,” Bruce said
“God has been good to you”
3. “Is this what they call young love?”
My very first girlfriend, she was meant to make Sarah jealous
But she never knew it, and Sarah saw straight through it
Still we carried forward, kept it up for four whole months
I thought it could be real, but she said we were through
As it turns out, she loved someone else too
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call?
When I started college, I began to date a high schooler
We worked at the tavern and pretended we had passion to burn
We tried to write love songs, and we snuck around our parents’ houses
Got caught and were scolded, acted like we weren’t old yet
And later, I’d rewrite those songs so I didn’t have to give her credit
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call?
Does the word “young” refer to the people or to the love?
Because if it’s the love, then anyone can have the kind that’s young
Love’s easy to lose when it’s easy to find
But the day-in-day-out, the hustle and grind
Is what makes the young love turn to fine wine
And we’ll be old enough to drink it in time
‘Cause I don’t want to grow old and still have a young love
But you cannot be young and have an old love
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call young love?
Is this what they call?
4. “Am I stuck?”
My number one irrational fear
It captivates my mind
And I believe that I’m there
Is crawling through a tunnel
Whether dirty or shrouded
It shrinks in size too tight
For me to continue down it
And there’s no way I can go
Back up the way that I came
I’m left down here to die of thirst
Or drown in the rain
Even now, describing it
I tremble and shake
It swallows me in dread
So vast, I think I’m insane
Am I stuck
Am I stuck
Am I stuck
Am I stuck?
There’s a hole in our home
Sometimes I find you down there
Sitting in the mud
Hints of blood in the air
Red beneath your fingernails
From scratching your hair
Your fear is not the hole
You’re scared that no one would care
Your shrinking tunnel
Is the thought you could disappear
That everyone you loved
Would be better off without you here
From deep within that hole
The answer seems crystal clear
With eyes too fogged from tears
To see a hand drawing near
“Am I stuck
Am I stuck
Am I stuck
Am I stuck?”
So I’ll jump into that hole
Because I know that you would crawl
Into the tunnel to save me
We all need saving
So I’ll jump into that hole
Because I know that you would crawl
Into the tunnel to save me
We all need saving
So I’ll help you fight your fear
Because I want and need you here
We can cry and pray and shout
Until you’re ready to climb out
So I’ll help you fight your fear
Because I want and need you here
We can cry and pray and shout
Until you’re ready to climb out
You’re not stuck
We’re not stuck
You’re not stuck
We’re not stuck
5. “What do I like now?”
Funko Pops
Line the top two shelves of my two bookcases
Which have far fewer books on display these days
So many were unread that I grew ashamed
Anyway
Most of them are Star Wars Pops
Episode 8 to be exact
But we’ve also got Fall Out Boy, Mega Man, and Mad Men
But now they’re running out of space
The galaxy might be far away, but it’s too small
For whether they go by foot or flying lightspeed
They’ll only find one bedroom at the end of the hall
Next to those
Is my record player with a box of LPs
That started with just a few Thrice albums
But my mom thought it’d be nice to have a table for them
So here I am
With my own vinyl collection
Bought more often than I listen
‘Cause Spotify makes it way too easy
Plus my apartment living room is a mess
So I never even set my speakers up
Surrounded by boxes that I need to unpack
Which are filled with the books that I’ve never read
But I’m holding onto the promise
That Luke will not be the last Jedi
Yeah, I’m holding onto the promise
That Luke will not be the last Jedi
Yet of all my toys and all my CDs
Or the movie collection that stands by the screen
My favorite thing most recently
Is every morning when we wake up early
Forgoing an extra hour of sleep
We sit on the couch to pray and to read
Holding each other and hot cups of coffee
Reading aloud letters to Timothy
Or the one Paul wrote to Colossae
As we soak in the words, as we’re trying to seek
What these ancient scrolls first written in Greek
Mean today for my job, for my soul when it’s weak
For my thoughts, for my heart, when I can’t keep a streak
Up of anything good, I fail on repeat
But these mornings are here to keep reminding me
That there’s always more space at the Lord’s mercy seat
And I’m holding onto the promise
That God will finish what he started
Yeah, I’m holding onto the promise
That God will finish what he started
6. “What am I like now?”
Organized
I’m slowly becoming organized
But it takes so much effort to organize my work
That I’m too burnt out to organize my shirts
(Or books or cups or mail)
Healthier
I’m rarely becoming healthier
‘Cause it takes too much effort to shop then cook then clean
And when I grocery shop, I always sneak in sweets
(M&M cookies)
The ups and downs of growth
Befuddling my senses
The ups and downs of growing older
Trajectory of hits and misses
Empathy
I think I’m developing empathy
‘Cause it is worth the effort to cry when you’re empty
And to praise and not be jealous in your plenty
Self-control
I keep on re-learning self-control
The never-ending effort to put the first things first
And to maintain habits when life’s at its worst
The ups and downs of growth
Befuddling my senses
The ups and downs of growing older
The ups and downs of growth
Befuddling my senses
The ups and downs of growing older
Trajectory of hits and misses
I fail every time I try to write a book
But I can rant for hours when I’m left off of the hook
And I peaked at age 20 as for being a cook
As for drawing, peaked at 7, look at what the years took
I am gentle when I’m not angry
And that’s not too often, thankfully
I give sound advice when it’s needed
But might act bitter if my counsel goes unheeded
I’m still growing up and a year from now
I hope to tell you of more ups than downs
7. “Will you hold my hand?”
One minute in, it’s fine, ‘cause we’re both tired, we’re both cold
Two minutes in, the car’s warmed up, we’re headed for the road
My blinker on, I tap my thumb, impatient for the turn
Then we’re off, three minutes in, still haven’t said a word
Minute four, head racing, should I ask what’s on your mind?
I know you’ll answer, “Nothing,” and be right back to the quiet
Five, but the answer’s never nothing
Six, I wish this all were nothing
Now seven minutes in, have we ever been this silent before?
A marriage built on laughs and songs now crashing to the floor
Watching while it falls, wondering, will it shatter, will it crack?
Or just a chip, a blip on the radar, before it swings right back?
Eight, our bodies are tired
Nine, our souls are so tired
Ten, I catch a glance, your eyes stare dead ahead, no flinch
The car is moving miles but we haven’t moved an inch
I look again, eleven, waiting for a sign of pain
You turn to me, we crack half-smiles as I swerve out in the lane
Twelve, quickly correcting, I make straight the path again
Reach over, thirteen, open your palm and grasp your hand
It’s warm as I remember, yet the warmth is also gone
Continue down the highway, unsure if I should hold on
Fourteen, another minute of silence
Like we’re trying to set a record for something
Fifteen, another minute of silence
Am I over- or under-thinking something?
Sixteen, another quick glance, another half smile
Another mile, then I take back my hand
Two minutes go by, I can tell you’re about to cry
I shouldn’t have to wonder why
Both hands on the wheel, focused on the drive
But still, never would’ve guessed
You and I could create such a long silence
At that very moment
You broke it with a whisper I couldn’t comprehend
Twenty, and I asked if you could say it louder than before
You said, “Do you not like holding my hands anymore?”
You barely made out the consonants
But I heard it loud and clear
As I bore the weight and the consequence
Of my actions that’d led us here
It was my coldness that made you ask
And I let the distance grow
Instead of standing, taking up the task
Of loving you wherever you go
In the car or on the couch at home
In the body or in the soul
Wherever it is that you’re cold*
To not let my shame take the wheel and drive us
To a place where there’s no hope
*Note: In the live taping, I mistakenly sang “wherever it is that you go” instead of “wherever it is that you’re cold”
8. “When are you gonna have kids?”
When Paige and I set the date
Two months from when we got engaged
Some of our friends thought that we were pregnant
When we released our first duet
Titled “The Things We Can’t Plan”
Mom called me up to ask if we were pregnant
Then when we closed on our house
And teased of big news to announce
Both our families thought that we were pregnant
And I’m not mad
I can’t wait to be a dad
We’re in no rush, but even so
Every time the answer’s “no”
We get a little sad
For years, I’ve wanted a son named Jet
But at this point, I hope we get
Daughters to be friends with our nieces
My brother’s such a great girl-dad
And I think that I can be like that
For now, I get to practice with my nieces
And every month, we take the test
It’s bittersweet when it’s not “yes”
We’ll give our love and time to our nieces
And we won’t let our hearts crumble to pieces
No, I’m not mad
I can’t wait to be a dad
We’re in no rush, but even so
Every time the answer’s “no”
We get a little sad
No, I’m not mad
I can’t wait to be a dad
We’re in no rush, but even so
Every time the answer’s “no”
We get a little sad
Trusting in God’s timing, trusting in God’s timing, trusting in God’s timing
Trusting in God’s timing, trusting in God’s timing, trusting
Trusting in God’s timing, trusting in God’s timing, trusting in God’s timing
Trusting in God’s timing, trusting in God’s timing, trusting
9. “How long have you worked there?”
Four years working as servers, while I went off to college
And my brother and I swore to never work in an office
Took one week with my degree for me to break that promise
The salary and benefits were temporary solace
(Too bad they let me go after I signed for an apartment)
When people first find out I’m a producer for two podcasts
They think it’s full-time while I’m putting the “free” in freelance
And sometimes when they learn that I’ve professionally made two albums
They’ll wonder if I’m big league when both albums made me bankrupt
I’m working to live, trying not to live for my work
And like Chandler Bing, no one can remember what I actually do
But I’m proud of my job, I’m holding on to what it’s worth
More than making ends meet, more than living for the weekend
Next month marks five, five and a half years
That’s more of my life than just about anything I’ve ever done
Except simply to survive
If we do some math, that’s nearly ten thousand hours
I could’ve become an expert in any one thing in the world
But I accept my path
I’m working to live, trying not to live for my work
And like Chandler Bing, no one can remember what I actually do
But I’m proud of my job, I’m holding on to what it’s worth
More than making ends meet, more than living for the weekend
I’m working to live, trying not to live for my work
And like Chandler Bing, no one can remember what I actually do
But I’m proud of my job, I’m holding on to what it’s worth
More than making ends meet, more than living for the weekend
10. “What’s next?”
I’m moving into my first house
Empty rooms of possibilities
For making music, making family
I’m moving to a small town
I’m hoping it’ll ease my pace
To quit living like everything is a race
So I sit here, a few boxes in
Surrounded by piles of books
And a quarter-filled kitchen
As I’m writing my tenth song today
But I had to take days off from work
To have time to create
I’m moving into my first house
Empty rooms of possibilities
For making music, making family
I’m moving to a small town
I’m hoping it’ll ease my pace
To quit living like everything is a race
So I wonder if this quaint abode
Will remain suitable if our numbers begin to grow
And I daydream, if I write a hit song
Will the comforts of home transform
Into thorns that don’t belong?
God, don’t let me outgrow
Contentment in the home
No matter how loud life becomes
Live quietly in accord with everyone
God, don’t let me outgrow
Contentment in the home
Grant us your joy and peace
That we may be satisfied in these
I’m moving into my first house
Empty rooms of possibilities
For making music, making family
I’m moving to a small town
I’m hoping it’ll ease my pace
To quit living like everything is a race
That I must win
Full Album Credits
Written on January 21, 2022 by Chase Tremaine
Performed on October 3 & 4, 2022 by Chase Tremaine
Engineered, filmed, edited, mixed, and mastered by Sean Power at the Hilson Studio
Artworked created by Chase Tremaine (“Live at the Hilson Studio” official logo used with permission)
Special Essay
[This essay reproduced from the album’s Bandcamp page, where it was originally published on November 18, 2022.]
I run the risk of being wildly hypocritical and confusing with the release of this album, Questions at Thirty.
Why confusing? Well, I’m currently rolling out my “third” “official” “studio” album, Accidental Days, which is due in early 2023 and from which I’ve recently released three songs. Questions at Thirty contains none of those songs and is, in a sense, unrelated to the release of Accidental Days.
Why hypocritical? For one, this album contains a handful of traits that I normally don’t care for in the music I listen to — traits that I might openly use to critique other albums, such as lyrics that are overly-detailed to the point of awkwardness. Secondly, I am 100% a music-first, lyrics-second type of listener, yet I’m releasing an album that is intended to be lyrics-first, music-second. Another reason is that I usually hate it when artists self-describe their music as “honest” or “heartbreaking” or “beautiful” or whatever else — the types of subjective descriptions that are usually better left for listeners to discern for themselves.
Yet here I am, releasing Questions at Thirty, a stripped down set of ten brand new songs containing the most honest, self-aware, detailed, and autobiographical lyrics of my musical career thus far. The main two words I’ve been using to describe these songs (since writing them this past January) are “raw” and “personal.” So it made sense to present these songs to you in the most raw and personal form possible: live performance. And they’re basically “raw” in every sense possible: the songs remain unchanged and unedited from the day I wrote them, and the performances are unedited, unfixed, untuned, and undressed by any studio wizardry or musical padding besides me, my acoustic guitar, a microphone, and a touch of reverb.
The title of the album fittingly describes the assignment: these are questions that I found myself being asked by others or asking myself as I looked a major milestone straight in the eyes: turning 30 years old. I wrote these songs in a single day, the weekend before that big-deal birthday, reflecting back on things that had happened in the preceding weeks, months, and years, ranging from the lows of aging and memory loss and health issues to the highs of getting married, buying our first house, and hoping to have kids.
As 2022 barreled forward, those “high”s would turn on their heads. Within weeks of writing this album and moving into our new house, a series of unpredictable events ensued, including: a tree falling on our house, wrecking our back deck; one close family member receiving a cancer diagnosis; another close family member getting a divorce; and the loss of my wife’s first pregnancy.
In some ways, these ten-month-old songs already feel hilariously outdated, with the amount of capital-L life that has happened over the course of 2022. And yet in other ways, these songs have only become more special to me in the time since writing them. And it’s been important to me that, if I was ever going to show these songs to people, I wanted to do it before I turn 31, to properly memorialize the time period these songs were largely written about.
I cannot guarantee that these songs will be suitable for fans of Unfall or Development & Compromise; in fact, I’m unsure whether these songs are suited for anyone besides people who know me and are interested in knowing me better as a person. If these songs aren’t for you, that’s absolutely fine — check back in when Accidental Days releases next year. But if you do choose to give the album a chance, I ask only one thing: that you pay attention to the lyrics. My guitar work is straightforward and my vocal performances do not measure up to my normal studio-album standards, but the lyrics are the beating heart of this album. These words are the reason I wanted to record this album and why I am still choosing to release this collection, despite some flaws and mistakes in my performances which bring me deep embarrassment. Being proud outweighs being embarrassed, and being honest outweighs being impressive. I hope you will find value in the things I have to say.
And like my other albums, Questions at Thirty is being offered for free, because you giving me your time is far more valuable than you giving me your dollars.