"recourse (noun): a turning to someone or something for help or protection" ~ Merriam Webster

When I stumbled upon the news of the death of Mike Wells, I felt something which I can only describe as being on a personal vendetta. Mike wasn't murdered, nor was there anyone to confront regarding his untimely death. Yet, I felt the need to commit my work in addressing this loss and find a way to express some of my own revelations over this period of early 2022.

Mike mastered my first two singles, "Boulevard Swan" and "Later Tonight". We had met at Brad and Deirdre's party a few years ago. We hit it off, scheduled a meeting at his North Hollywood studio, and discussed working together. None of that transpired until a few years after our initial meeting when I began my solo effort, Khanada. This was a very strange time, as the pandemic was still in high gear, so our encounters were over the phone. However, I really felt he understood my music, as I was hoping for a long term partnership. I also enjoy working with anyone with a good sense of humor.

I crafted the basic chord progression on my keyboard, wrote melodies, and knew what direction I wanted for "Recourse". The basic components of the song was my immediate response to Mike's passing. I knew what I wanted to say, but I hadn't found the right words. Hence, the song just sat there for a while. I'd return to it from time to time, add some embellishments, but writing fresh lyrics felt beyond my grasp at the moment. For "Boulevard Swan", the task was easier, as I revived an older song originally intended for Peeling Grey. "Later Tonight" was a cover, so no need to think too hard in the lyrics department. This time, I felt it was appropriate to pen something entirely new, as opposed to reaching into my bag of older tricks.

Near the end of summer last year, word had spread that our dear friend Evie was losing her battle with cancer. I started to fixate on the notion of inevitability. In Evie's case, it was only a matter of time. For Mike, it felt so sudden, yet I speculate he too was looking down the barrel of something he felt he had no control over.

I believe Evie had made peace with the outcome she was facing. The situation wouldn't adjourn, so that we could all return to how things were. No, this was real, so I spent some time reflecting on some pretty dark stuff. Shortly before her passing last fall, I returned to the song.

Both of my friends suffered in their own ways. In brief instances, I suppose when you experience staring down the well of leaving this world, perhaps a moment of clarity or "recourse" takes you somewhere: We embrace our destiny. Sometimes those methods are crude, as we can morally oppose to how some deal with it, but it's not my intention to debate nor ponder on what is right and wrong. In this song, I simply emphasize a turning point.

The kind of recourse I reference isn't limited to those two friends, nor those who suffer. In the wake of our own grief, we also must pursue a certain path, if not solely for our own sanity. We take mental and spiritual action, seek the best comfort conceivable, chart a new direction, and find sanctuary from our own pain. That juncture is the point of recourse...