According to Wikipedia, the Blue Ridge Mountains’ signature hues–visible from afar–come from trees, which emit the organic compound isoprene. My home region with its mystical haze has long been a source of awe, intrigue, and creative inspiration for many, including me. Today, I’m really excited to release a 5-song digital EP called “Blue Ridge Mountain Waterfalls,” available on Bandcamp. 

https://josephhouck.bandcamp.com/album/blue-ridge-mountain-waterfalls

Conveying stories and emotions through music and lyrics remains a great joy of mine. As is common in creative writing, the tales are a blend of real-life and fiction, some almost entirely the latter. The title song was inspired partly by my late grandmother, who passed away shortly before my son was born. I fondly remember her and her mountain living skills: country cooking, gardening, canning. The song is a reflection on some of life’s landmarks.

At first, I had plans to record these songs with other musicians, and perhaps alternate versions may yet come to fruition. But for this release, I pursued a humbler, more personal approach, starting each song with acoustic guitar/ vocals and overdubbing a couple of extras like mandolin and piano where necessary.

Though originally I didn’t conceive of a mini-album, it became clear, looking back from a distance, that these songs correlate to effect a grander vista. The story elements are suffused in that beguiling blue aura of home. 



BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAIN WATERFALLS

The woods and the streams have their secrets
They use time as a tool to conceal
And I watched her old hands in the kitchen
As they made one of our final meals

She was a blue ridge mountain waterfall
Slicker than the glassy rock
And grayer than an old stone building 
Oh, if only these hills could talk

I watched the steep drops of her fingers
Lifting the lid off the pot,
Soup streaming out of the ladle,
Rain steaming that dry garden plot

I recall the damp scent of the cellar,
Warm hum of the old kitchen light
Cascading curls of her temples,
Cataract mist in her eyes

She was a blue ridge mountain waterfall
Slicker than the glassy rock
And grayer than an old stone building 
Oh, if only these hills could talk

Now she’s there in your face from this angle
When you smile after making a joke
But you never met your great-grandma
She was gone when your mom’s water broke

Just like a blue ridge mountain waterfall
Slicker than the glassy rock
And grayer than an old stone building 
Oh, if only these hills could talk


Blue Ridge Mountain Waterfalls

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Artist - Gursimran Kaur 
Music - Jaskirat Singh 
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