organizing an accident is a once-weekly newsletter where I leak home demos of unreleased songs, first draft lyrics, thoughts on the creative process, and dispatches from music life in Paris.
Listen to “Oh Boy” (demo):
This song was written on April 6, 2023
Last Wednesday, on a perfectly sun-filled October morning, Janis and I left for Hôpital Trousseau in the 12eme arrondissement of Paris. The appointment was made to induce labor for the birth of our first baby, a “beau bébé” projected to be quite large if delivered at term. Forty-eight hours later, on the morning of Friday the 13th, things had still not progressed to the extent we’d hoped for, so a c-section was scheduled that evening. It wasn’t ideal for Janis’s original plan of pushing him out, but after two sleepless nights and relatively not much to show for it, we both felt a giant sense of relief knowing that we’d soon get to meet our son.
The moment came, and Janis was taken to prep for her procedure while I waited in the recovery room, sweating through my turquoise scrubs. With nerves setting in, I waited to join her and was soon comforted by a light breeze that made its way through the corridor. A great wind had taken over the hospital grounds—and all of Paris, it would seem—shaking the ground floor windows and adding a fittingly autumnal atmosphere to my solitude. Just minutes away from the birth of my son, this ambiance cast its spell over me, and I felt an uncanny sense of my mother's presence—large and all-encompassing in reality—there in the room with me.
They took me to sit beside Janis as the medical team prepared the birth. Behind a surgical curtain and beside her right cheek, I offered words of reassurance as the team of midwives, anesthesiologists, and doctors danced to the Bluetooth speaker we'd brought along. About five minutes later, at 20:23 local time and to the sound of Michel Polnareff's "Love Me, Please Love Me," our son Otto came floating over the curtain and was plopped down beside Janis's face—the two crying and rubbing against each other in a whirlwind of emotions.
It's not lost on me that he chose that song, with that title, and its bilingual, Franglais lyrics, as an introductory plea for love that both his parents would understand. Masterfully reading the room, he even followed it up with "Africa" by D'Angelo, the gorgeous closing track on Voodoo, an album that's essentially been my musical security blanket over the years.
While Janis was cleaned up, I followed Otto into the next room for his checkup. The nurse examined, I sang, and all throughout I snapped some first images of him. He drank his first bottle in my arms, and we returned to maman, now back in that original recovery room, impatiently waiting to hold her petit prince.
Drowsy from love (and drugs), we updated family of his safe landing and sat together in utter astonishment at our baby's perfection. We chose the name Otto, the number eight in Italian, because all good things come in eights. For starters, we were married on our eighth anniversary in August 2021, the eighth month of the year. And now, our newest good luck charm, born just after 8 pm, was approaching one-hour-old and growing a bit fussy. I began my first attempt at calming him and he settled down almost immediately. At that very moment, Janis and I looked at each other as once again, a powerful wind overtook the hospital, rattling the windows and surrounding us with its natural force. ◍
About the track
This is a song that I wrote following Janis’s end of first trimester ultrasound during which we discovered the sex of our baby. I wrote about the experience here and shared an original iPhone voice memo. Today’s version is an updated demo that I recorded recently during sessions for my upcoming album.
From the vault
What I’m listening to this week
You can always pay a visit to my previous demos and writing via the Substack archive + find my official music releases on Spotify, Apple, or your platform of choice. Stalk me across socials at @thisryanegan.
With love,
Ryan
Read the previous post.
Otto is off to a beautiful start. I love that your mom was near in your heart. Enjoy these blessed and tender first days.❤️
wonderful stuff- many congrats!!