Wednesday, June 11th. It’s day two of my residency. I am on a mission to write a second song
I start with mucking around on the piano (in Dutch we call this ‘pingelen’), until I have a four chord progression that I like and that inspires something. ..
I start with the concept of a woman who is lying awake at night thinking about calling her folks on the other side of the world. In verse two the protagonist is getting ready for work, followed by a chorus with some geographic sentimentality…
Back at my residence at the end of the day, I decide that the storyline doesn’t hold, which is unusual for me. I’m usually quite solid on what I’m trying to say. In this case, I like the visual imagery, but I’m just not convinced by the plot.
On day three (Thursday June 12th) I recommence with fresh enthusiasm and creative boldness: I completely scrap the second verse and chorus that I had written the day before. There’s a problem with the first verse too, I decide:
“She’s lying awake once again
Staring at the ceiling
An early bird outside
In the distance the hum of a car
Would it be five am yet?”
It feels like it's set in the Netherlands: it’s a Dutch bird, not an Aussie Kookaburra or a New Zealand Kea, and it's Dutch traffic.
That’s when I decide to tell the story from the point of view of the Dutch mother who is lying awake at night, thinking about calling her adult child, who lives elsewhere in the world…
It’s her son, I decide, and he lives in New York, which works for the story, given the six hours time difference between the east coast of the U.S. and the Netherlands.
The story then unfolds: in verse two she gets up and makes herself a coffee, deciding to call in the morning, his morning, which will be evening for her. She realises that his mornings are really busy and she might still not be able to get a hold of him.
The chorus is her calling and leaving him a message:
“Honey, it’s your mum.
I’m just calling to let you know that I love you.
I’m heading to the markets later.
Would you like some cod?
I’ll buy Kibbeling for you”.
‘Kibbeling’ is a Dutch snack of deep-fried fish, usually cod, which you can get made to order at the markets. Served with mayo or aioli, it is the absolute best. My parents are partial to it, as am I, which is why it has ended up in the song.
The mother’s suggestion in the chorus to buy her New York-based son cod at the markets is inspired by my own video calls with my parents, who, yes, live on the other side of the world. Often they’ll be having coffee and offer to make me a cup, or they’ll be eating Dutch apple cake (made by my dad) and offer me a slice. We laugh. It’s a way of both acknowledging and bridging the distance.
It doesn't need more. No bridge this time. No third verse. Just this simple set-up and the poignancy of the message the mother leaves for her son.
I feel like this song recognises what it’s like for mothers who have adult children living overseas. It shows that maintaining contact and connection, despite the benefits of technology, is not as straightforward as it seems - especially across timezones. The song also highlights the significance of shared (food) culture, and associated physical rituals, such as going to the markets to buy fresh produce.
My new song Kibbeling is an intimate look at the parent/adult child connection across geographic distance.
Renaté
June 14th, 2025
Arts Tasmania supported Residency
Poatina, Tasmania
© 2025 R.B. Pluym
