Sometimes I like it more than you do and sometimes you like it more than I do and English isn't sophisticated enough for us to know the difference in any real way. You have to believe it’s true in order for the truth to be true. When an english speaker wonders, they wonder in English.
Is this any good?
Someone might answer yes and that yes can be the truth to that person but in a very real way there is a pudding that the proof is in.
Who says?
Well, everybody does.
Who’s everybody?
Everybody I know says so.
Is that so?
Yeah.
Well, this one is here for this reason, and this reason alone. I think it’s good. I like how it goes. I like how it was recorded. It's just good. It’s from the middle of the process of recording what became Donkey Island- probly 2012.
I was in a mild state of fame. I believed in the goodness of the tunes and that there would be a place where people and these songs would come together. I was imagining myself in the blossoming fame, walking in to someplace like home after being gone and showing off.
When I showed up at the bars people would still turn their heads to see me and then whisper my name, but I had mostly stopped going.
It wasn’t like I graduated from the bars to some advanced placement; It was like I had quit, and not long before. I no longer rolled into the warm embrace of a public house. I had to start developing a sense of self that wasn’t me there.
I was occasionally gathering my girlfriend from a bush she’d decided to lie down on or near and pouring her into a cab. I was encouraged to be over the whole party scene. I was over forty, worst of all.
Where we were recording good work was happening. In my mind good songs were coming, and soon enough I’d be able to show them around. I could do another run on theaters with this little project all messy with human artists.
And then I just didn’t. I got out of the relationships. I quit making a record. I ceased to want any fools to turn to see me if I ever walked into the bar again.
I was raised by bar people. I have no Idea how to function in sober society. There may not even be such a thing.
But I wrote this good song one time and then I had the two professional fiddlers I knew come in to the recording space separately and record, “parts”. One got to go first, the other learned the first part and augmented it. I forget the order.
It’s Alma Drake and Kristina Priceman.
Ryan Bernamen plays upright bass, and I added the Mandolin part as an afterthought. It’s good. I relearned it the other morning and put a version of it on the interwebs immediately. I love this one.
Push push.
Buy one.
Here, have a nother free one.
Just…
Tell someone else to watch it.
