The idea spawned from reading a pair of classics – “East of Eden” by Steinbeck and “100 Years of Solitude” by Garcia Marquez. I read them around the same time and I adored them both. Watching people's actions and family traits play out over multiple generations was fascinating to me. I thought about them for months afterwards. And then an idea struck me. 

What would it be like to create a family saga in the medium of records?

This was back in 2008. The original plan was to create three short releases, maybe 7 or 8 songs a piece, that each represented a generation of a family. I assumed I’d spend about three years on the project. My estimation wasn’t even close. Once I started writing, it spiraled into an 8-year, 44-song behemoth.

I began by looking up genealogy charts, dating back about 200 years, and using the gaps in information to invent stories of who these people might have been. Since you’re often left with only birth and death records -- perhaps an obituary, if you are lucky -- there's plenty of space to speculate. I also wanted to incorporate magical realism, akin to what was woven throughout “100 Years of Solitude.” I’ve always loved small bits of fantasy or surrealism in stories.

I collected all my ideas into an assemblage of a family tree, borrowing from the visual diagrams I saw in those genealogy charts. Then the visuals gave me another idea. What if there were chord charts and harmonic choices related to the various branches? What if I treated components of music like genetics, letting them evolve a bit with each new family member? This concept was really exciting to me, and it gave the project a stronger sense of cohesion.

My last piece of organization was to show time passing via production choices. To implement this, I wrote a set of rules for each album. The Roots had five main songwriting tools: voices, piano, acoustic guitar, strings and small percussion. I wanted to focus on instruments that might have been in use around the time. The Branches introduced drums sets, electric guitars, and lots of metal sounds into the mix, hinting at the industrial revolution. And The Leaves allowed for synthesizers, drum machines and samples as a nod toward the modern age.

Between 2008 and 2010, I wrote over 60 songs for the project, sans lyrics. That felt overwhelming, so I whittled it down to about 40. I divided those tracks into the three main albums, and each record had a few songs that were written during the time of recording.

The Bastards is the exception. That record became a holding pen for the songs that were eventually removed from the main three albums. But not because I was unhappy with the results. I just couldn’t find a good spot for them in the track order and I like albums to have a certain flow.

The only major change that occurred over those eight years was during the recording of The Leaves. I’d been weaving personal stories into the series from the get-go, but never directly. I’ve historically written about my life in half-truths, or by removing all personal details so that the song is reduced to a general human experience. But events surrounding my family in 2015 were so overwhelming that I didn’t know what else to talk about and I started writing about where I personally come from. I had reserved most of the lyric writing until I was in the midst of recording each album, so the music on The Leaves had largely been sketched out, but the words had not.

So the saga came to a close in a very personal way, far smaller than intended. And instead of closure, I found myself just beginning to make sense of my own family tree. A road I only recently stopped wandering down so much, over a decade later.

Stone lives alone at this point in his life, largely avoiding relationships. He passes the time through hard labor, choosing to exhaust himself physically when he can't control his mind, or the brother he now shares it with.

When Stone witnessed Severus's death during the song "Severus and Stone", it was during a liminal state. He unknowingly interrupted Severus in his passing and, through the link they shared as twins, Severus became trapped in Stone's mind instead. Two minds sharing one body.

Stone, thirty years later, still suffers from survivor's guilt. He believes that Severus should have carried on, not him. Severus was the smarter one, he'd tell anyone who'd listen. He would have known what to do with his life.

But this unrelenting guilt was precisely what was keeping Severus trapped, unable to pass on.
 

(The music video displays how Severus is helping his brother let go. By forcing Stone to sleepwalk, he uses their shared body to remove all reminders of him from their home. This is how Severus's diary gets buried behind the house, only to be discovered decades later by a new inhabitant see "Old Gemini" on The Leaves to continue this story)

To follow Stone's story ... See "We're On Our Way" from the album The Bastards

Tom, despite his ever-present feelings for Victoria, eventually married another woman. He liked her well enough, but it was more of a practical choice than an impassioned one. A year after the wedding, she finally became pregnant. The pregnancy was a difficult one, nearly killing her in the end, so they never tried again.

The son, Phillip, was an easy child. He was self-content and rarely cried. In fact, he barely made any noise at all. At first, it felt like a blessing. But by the time he was a toddler, still silent as ever, they became concerned.

Phillip was mute, they learned. The doctors could find no reason for it. "The boy is obviously intelligent," they'd say. "Might be he just doesn't want to talk." 

Tom was a guilty man, by nature. He often felt his son's muteness was a punishment for his loving another woman. Tom did right by his son in terms of keeping him fed and healthy, but he didn't know how to handle him otherwise. Adding to the situation was the wife's postpartum depression, which never really left her. The result was a functional but distant household, everyone performing their roles perfunctorily, largely avoiding each other.

Phillip, The Mute, inherited his father's penchant for guilt. To his young mind, his parents would be happy if only he weren't around. So he decides to run away, believing everyone would be happier if he weren't around.

(Note on the video: Tom is depicted as far more neglectful for dramatic tension, and the scenery is obviously modern and doesn't reflect the time period  -- with budgets of a couple hundred dollars and a crew of volunteers, you have to make do)

To follow Tom's story ... See "We All Go The Same" from this same album

Judah was always afraid to invest in relationships. He did meet a woman in his early thirties that he would have happily settled down with. He tried for a short stint, but in the end his anxiety pushed him back to a life on the road.

From that point on he relied on the services of prostitutes to take care of any carnal needs. By chance one of the women - one he could barely remember, even if you pressed him on it - got pregnant. She named her son Abel.

Abel grew up in a very unstable home. His mother did everything she could to raise him well, finding work as a waitress and claiming that Abel's father had died in an accident. But once her past as a prostitute was discovered they'd inevitably have to move. Abel took all the relocating hard. By the time he was a young man, he found himself saddled with trust issues similar to a father he'd never even met.

"Reminders" follows Abel walking away from the first person he'd ever dared to love.

To follow Abel's story ... See "From the Mouth of an Injured Head" from this same album

This song is narrated by Jim, son of Timothy, from the song "Mountains".

Jim loved his childhood. He was raised in the same house as his father, not far from the lake that Abigail danced on the surface of years before. The lake that everyone swore was haunted. Timothy was a good father. He was attentive and kind, and he genuinely enjoyed his children. Outside of small, typical family disputes, they were happy.

In this song, Jim reminisces about a day near the lake, spent doing all the things boys that age do, with his best friend Bailey. And in the second to last section, he briefly touches upon how something strange and wonderful happened that night.

They were sitting by the water, tossing stones in, when the cloud cover broke. Above them was the most spectacular meteor shower, shooting stars whizzing by, as many as ten at a time. And then, to their shock, the stars began landing right in front of them. Tiny balls of light, splashing and bobbing on the surface of the water.

Jim fell into a trance-state. He stood and began walking into the water, arm outstretched as though he were holding someone's hand. He remembered the water being warm, which the lake never was, and genuinely believing he'd be able to breathe under the surface just fine.

But just as his head went under, Bailey grabbed him by the collar and pulled him ashore. They never told anyone else about that night. It was their shared secret from that point on.

To follow Jim and Bailey's story ... See "Baptisms" from the album The Bastards

This track is narrated by Frederick, the son of Virgil from the song "Kin".

Frederick inherited the ability to hear his dead relatives from his father, so he didn't know life without it. His father was tortured by the gift, but he never minded. Up until he entered his school years.

He made the mistake of mentioning his "secret" to a girl he was smitten with. This earned him the nickname "Ghost Boy". He pretended that he'd been joking and eventually the name fell away, but the damage was done. His embarrassment for his family, and where he came from, only grew more pronounced. 

But his little brother, Jonathan, inherited the same trait that he did. And unlike Frederick, he felt no shame about it. If anything, he liked speaking with his dead relatives. He'd often sit in the backyard and talk to their great grandmother. She eventually taught him how to make baskets and wreaths from the flora that surrounded their house, and she even showed him how to dance.

From watching his little brother, Frederick slowly came to terms with who he was. In time, he saw their oddness as good fortune, not just some curse he'd do anything to shed.

To follow this bloodline ... See "Secrets (Cellar Door)" from the album The Leaves

He'd moved south, years before, chasing another scheme he believed would make him rich. He was too far from Kyle to visit easily, so he was unbound from the one person who'd ever kept him grounded.

It wasn't long before he fell in with the wrong crowd.

It started with a group of smugglers. While running with them, he met a man that referred to himself as "Dr. Everything", because there was no ailment he couldn't heal. Dr. Everything took a shining to Kyle, and eventually let him in on his secret. He didn't sell people medicine; he sold them whatever they wanted to hear. Hope, miracles, blame ... whatever they needed. The bottles of "do-nothing oils" he gave them were only because people wanted something physical to hold when parting with their money. 

Kyle, always a competitive one, said he could sell twice as much as Dr. Nothing in the same amount of time. Within the month, he was booked in the local prison. It took him years to finally write Robert and admit what had happened.

It was in that light that he finally saw how much his little brother had always been there for him. He'd just found that gratitude a bit too late.

Christopher got the nickname "Chase" after his first time in battle. It was really coming down when they marched into position and the rain flooded his musket. He learned this just as he found himself face-to-face with a boy on the other side. So he dropped his gun and closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

But the boy didn't shoot. Instead, he dropped his gun and ran to follow this boy's story, see "Deserter's Song" from the Touch the Sky EP, and "Glory" from Ghost. Without thinking, Christopher ran after him. His comrades called him "Chase" from that point on, as a term of endearment.

Christopher was riding high on all the positive attention after that first skirmish. Fellow enlisted men would clap him on the back, saying things like "Wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of this one!" He was even more aggressive during the next battle, and his reputation grew. Internally, he was horrified by all the violence, and how every time they left camp, fewer and fewer men returned. So he focused on his reputation instead.

During his fifth skirmish, he went one step too far. Determined to be the first man on his side to take a shot, he dashed ahead of the front lines to take aim, in a spot where he knew everyone would see him. He was rewarded with a bullet to the abdomen.

This song follows him writing home from his hospital bed. It's uncertain if he will live or not. The surgeons removed the bullet successfully but were having far more trouble with the remaining infection.

He makes peace with his situation over the course of writing home one last time.

To follow Christopher's story ... See "Letters Home (Aftermath)" from the album The Bastards

He'd gotten a job doing construction in the nearest city. He'd never been given proper head protection and suffered a serious blow from a steel beam. The company he worked for paid for him to be moved to the nearby hospital, just outside of town. When he finally came to, he no longer knew who he was. He'd even lost his name.

This song follows him as he receives visits from the woman he'd distanced himself from in the song "Reminders". He doesn't remember her, but he finds great comfort in her presence. And slowly but surely, they develop a new relationship.

Devoid of all his former hangups, Abel finally leans into the woman he loves and doesn't pull away. That head injury winds up being his greatest gift, and despite his ongoing issues with balance and memory, they enjoy their remaining lives together.

To follow Abel's bloodline ... See "The Road to Nowhere" from the album The Leaves

Their names were Gabriel, Katelyn and Annabel, and all of them were abnormal. 

Annabel is the sister who walks into the woods and is never seen by the family again. Katelyn was sent away as a teenager to live with their cousins after she was spotted in the mirrors of neighboring homes, even though she was nowhere nearby.

Gabriel is the narrator of this song. He shares an inside joke with his father, who knows all about the oddities within his wife and children. But instead of fearing them, he thinks they're wonderful and does whatever he can to provide protection.

Gabriel learned at a young age that he can affect the surrounding weather, for up to a couple miles. One day, his father asked asked if Gabriel could make it snow. He'd lived all his life in the south, and while he'd read about snow plenty of times, he'd never seen it with his own eyes.

Gabriel made it happen with little effort.

To follow Annabel's story ... See "Midnight" from the album The Leaves
To follow Katelyn's story ... See "Sisters" from the album The Bastards
To follow Gabriel's bloodline ... See "Secrets (Cellar Door)" from the album The Leaves

He went by the name Artemis Tomb, but he was not christened that way. When he was expelled from medical school after too many ethics violations, he decided his birth name was simply too mundane. He chose the new one while forging his certifications.

He originally thought he'd become a surgeon -- something about that amount of control over a person's life appealed to him -- but there was a case study at university that changed the course of his life. A young girl was brought in with a genuinely fantastic abnormality. Though no one could explain how, she could cause objects to emit light, simply by touching them.

At first, discovering something so extraordinary enraged him. Why did this child possess something so unique? What made her so special? But another thought followed -- how many more like her might be out there?

Artemis decided to move to the big city to find out. Somewhere with more people, higher amounts of poverty, and lots of visitors. Within a year of moving, he acquired the funds to purchase a failing factory. On the surface, it produced materials for the railroads. In reality? It was a place to house runaways.

Once Artemis became aware of these strange genetic traits, he quickly found the category with the highest concentration of them. Runaways.

Many families were ashamed of their strange genetics. Children who showed such odd behaviors were often cast out. So Artemis built the illusion that he was running a labor-based orphanage, giving homes to those most in need. Many within the city even saluted his efforts. But those in the poorest neighborhoods spoke of him like the boogie man, a villain who would come steal you away in the middle of the night.

They all referred to him as "The Gilded Hand" on account of all the gold rings he liked to wear.

This song is from the point of view of the children he'd collected, those who never get to leave the factory anymore. At a time before labor laws made these kinds of practices illegal.

Artemis is loosely based on H. H. Holmes, from the novel "The Devil in the White City", by Erik Larson

To follow The Gilded Hand's story ... See "The Road to Nowhere" on the album The Leaves