Odd how life settles into the right groove sometimes. Could it be the sunshine we've had lately? Perhaps. I'm not sure I have an explanation, and I'm not sure I really am even worried about it. It just is. That's enough for now.
Part of the evolutionary process has really been coming to terms with the new place that songs seem to come from. It's a new voice for me in a sense, the new feel is less delta blues and more, well, me. I like the songs that are developing. They're melodic, different and honest. And, as a result, the new solo record is really feeling settled to me, like water findng it's own level. It's a good thing, too, because I'm back at Buzz's studio to record next month, back in that comfortable and familiar creative environment where it all seems to have started.
For those of you that have been listening to 'Ball and Chain' or 'Sackcloth and Ashes' for the pasy 6 months, well, I think these will have good company on this disk. Most will be solo lap steel or solo electric guitar and voice, a little harp. One or two will require a little percussion or some bass to fill them out a bit. But it's all music designed to play solo. And it all connects back to a process that started on a back porch in Argentina a couple of years ago, with some cold beer, an old marching drum and John Clarke and I playing old cowboy songs for the ranch hands, while my wife sat nearby in a rocking chair knitting.
And so, constant readers, it's a beautiful day. A good one to set a burden down and feel the sunlight on your face as the days grow shorter. Taking stock, I've got friends and enemies, family and co-workers, musicians all to share the journey with, and 19 new songs that the universe has given me to sing. It's a great place to be.
flip down the visor to meet the sun rise
cold rush of wind across my face
with the radio for company
there's 800 miles left to ride
Peace all. Time to ride a bit.
