The Scream
By Matthew J. Griswold
“Screaming From The Witch’s Tower” humbly sermonizes an artistic idiom of what it’s like to wonder what the world
exhibits outside of its comfort zones, the experiences that transpire from that wonder, and then inevitably inheriting its
consequences.
I joined the Army in 2002 to get the hell out of town. After a year at the Minnesota State University in
Moorhead, I dabbled in both the Fargo and Twin City music scenes. At the time I was still uncertain as
to where my music was going. I always felt that I didn’t really fit in to whatever scene I found myself
involved with.
I was 19 when I played my first paying gig at the Ramsey County Fair. I was opening for a local band
called GB Leighton, and at the time I had no idea who they were. I do, however, remember seeing a
picture of the lead singer with his arm around Bruce Springsteen and figuring they had to be doing
pretty well for themselves. Springsteen had always been and still is one of my biggest influences, so I
was pretty stoked to play alongside someone who had actually met him. Bruce seemed to be able to
tap into my thirst for adventure, my desire to capture it, and my need to be inspired by it. Though I
didn’t even talk with anyone from GB Leighton that day, I still thought it was cool enough to brag
about for a while.
A few months later I stepped off a beat up school bus while being laughed at by a bus driver who’s
missing teeth made his laugh sound like a sizzling frying pan. “Good luck boys” he said in a thick
southern drawl. “Yous’ boys got it simpler than we had it!” I was then greeted by an angry looking
Drill Sergeant who explained to all of us that, “From this moment on you privates will not think, eat,
talk or even look at anything other than whatever is directly in front of you, with out my permission.
You got that? I SAID, ‘YOU GOT THAT!’” Somewhere beneath the shouts of overly motivated farm
kids, high school dropouts, and lazy college minded know-it-alls, I thought to myself…”This isn’t for
me.”
Less than two years later I was in a combat zone in Iraq. In the heart of Al Ambar province was the city
of Ar Ramadi, which, in Arabic, means “City of God.” The City of God is a place where mortars land an
arms length away. It is a place where sky is lit up by fire. The City of God is a place where time is kept
with weekly memorial services to the fallen. Feeling dauntingly vindicated, I recall thinking, “This isn’t
for me.
The truth is that outside of taking weekend get-a-ways from wherever I was stationed at the time, I
can’t say that I was ever truly enjoying life.
In the military you learn to make a joke out of everything. That’s what keeps you sane. We used
cleaning our weapons as an excuse to bullshit in the barracks. Like hipsters in a coffee shop, we
discussed our hopes, dreams, ideals, and what Dylan really meant. Everyone had a plan…except for me.
I headed back to Minnesota with no expectations and a fresh start, but with the culture shock of
returning to a place I once called home impeding my rehabilitation into society, I found myself in some
bad places. I had reached an emotional and mental breaking point borne from a lack of identity, self-
worth, and faith in the world around me. I became desperate to communicate these feelings and sought
music as my outlet.
I played my first show since active duty at the Fine Line Music Café in downtown Minneapolis. I also
found an open mic in the Highland Park area of St. Paul known for showcasing local singer-
songwriters.
It was here that I met every person I would need to know for this album to become real. Out of casual
conversations and weekly jam sessions spawned deep-rooted friendships. I credit these same friends
for reminding me what home really is.
Rarely is home a geographical location. More often than not, home is being with the ones you love.
“Screaming from the Witch’s Tower” is my artistic portrayal of my experiences. I did not use any
military or Americana imagery in any of these songs for one simple reason: This album is not about
war. It’s about my life. My hope is that you find a point of relation in these songs.
I spent a great deal of time writing and pondering the concept of this album at the base of the “Witch’s
Hat Tower”, located off University Avenue in the Prospect Park area of Minneapolis. The “Witch’s Hat
Tower” at one time held the water supply for the residents of that area, and is now a national historic
site. It is (not coincidentally) located on the highest natural landmark of the entire metro area, giving
it one of the best views of both downtown areas. It is now commonly referred to as the “Witch’s
Tower”. It wasn’t until the day that the entry door to the tower was left open by mistake that I actually
made my way up the corkscrew staircase to the top. The moment I looked out across The Cities that I
grew up in and saw the landmarks that held my past, the metaphor came to me.
Now, as time passes and I drive by that same tower, I’m reminded of the family, friends, artists, and
musicians that helped bring these ideas to life. Even if the “scream” goes unheard, you and I will be
right here. Now. Our collective thoughts, ideas, and beliefs manifest themselves in our daily lives.
The scream lives because we do.