On March 4th, a bevy of cyclones descended from black skies upon the unsuspecting people of Kentucky. One of those tornadoes touched down at the mouth of the Middle Fork--the holler I called home for 21 years. At the end of that day, after the twister had spun its destructive 140 MPH winds through mountains and valleys, the Middle Fork had lost two lives with countless others changed forever.  This song is inspired by and dedicated to all the lives lost and touched by Mother Nature's indifference.

Lyrics: 
Mother Appalachia has always kept us safe in the
hollers tucked just between  the shield of her mountain tops.
But when the twisted winds blew across our humble tree-lined sky
a vicious air ripped into our hallowed hills’ rocky side.

There was a funnel monster at the mouth of the holler.
It descended from the sky with bullets made of water.
It ripped through brick and steel and rock
and stole up our neighbors’ lives
while a train roar sounded out a flat-line.

While the TV blared about ancient Mayan predictions,
a weather warning appeared warning of severe weather afflictions.
At about that same time, a train roared outside
even though there’s no tracks around these parts.
We thought the holler was safe until that train roar left its evil mark.

There was a funnel monster at the mouth of the middle fork.
It descended from the sky with the breath of a killing force.
It ripped through brick and steel and rock
and stole up our neighbors’ lives
as one father asked his lord “Why?”

Funnel Monster at the Mouth of the Holler

Combine a banjo, saxophone, Moog synth, fretless bass, and play that on top of a swinging dubstep beat. Now sing a fun little ditty about partying lightning bugs and you'll get close to this song.

Lightning Bug Dance Party

When the aliens above offer up baited bread in steel mesh cones,
how could a modest minnow refuse such immediate offerings? 

This electro-reggae-bluegrass hybrid is one tale in an anthology of Appalachian fables. More to come....

LYRICS:
Oh how comfortable he is, 
wrapped up snug like a birthday gift.
Oh how familiar this is,  
like the dark embrace of the deepest creek.

There's food here, too. And it doesn't flee.
Enough to feed his school and plenty for all to eat.
The little minner swims tight in his small home,
wrapped up comfy in the steel mesh cone.

A little fish in a little stream is torn between his home and whale-sized dreams.
But the school of thought taught him not to leave the minner trap that feeds him 
_________________________________________________
The little minner tucked in safe and sound, 
thinks back to when he swam about.
Thinking about that time he swam down the creek
Far past new sticks and rocks just to see
 
What new sights lay around the bend 
of the snaking creek that had no end.
He felt the pull of the current’s flow
into lonely water that bubbled fresh and cold.

A little fish in a little stream is torn between his home and whale-sized dreams.
But the school of thought taught him not to leave the minner trap that keeps him 
__________________________________________________
The little minner swam til the current was too bold,
to the point where he shimmered for control.
Unfamiliar and cold, it would not let go.
Pulling him down the creek all alone

And then he thought back to his role at home, 
About his place back in that iron red hole.
So he turned back and never got to see
The river up ahead that flowed into the sea. 
__________________________________________________
A little fish in a little stream was torn between his home and whale-sized dreams.
But the school of thought taught him not to leave the minner trap that kept him. 

The little fish in his little stream was torn from his hope to go past the bend.
And the school of thought taught him not to leave the minner trap that swallowed him.

Minn'r Creek

Minn'r Trap

This song all started with the drip-drip-drip of water in my kitchen sink. I thought “I could make a beat out of this!” So I did. Then I added banjo. Then I added my Moog Sub Phatty. The dripping loop reminded me of a vacuous cavern, so I wrote and recorded the lyrics.  After time, the simple drip of water eroded the sonic space into a complete song, just as each drop of water on rock inches us another moment closer to the birth of a cave. 

LYRICS:
A trickle of a creek on a limestone crack eats time.
The cave grows out with each drop, feeding on an ocean. 
Buried deep under a mountain tall, it grows.
The mammoth expanding void under us all
calls across millennia, asking us to  
recall our void. 

Drip by drip it forms across lifetimes
Birthed from drops the cave grows from a thin line.
The void grows. 

Stalactites bite in the dark chewing on calcite.
The salty drip carries a  chasm of secrets.
The cavernous vacuum will consume us all again.
One day we will feed the cave,  as we wait to 
Rejoin our void.

Drip by drip it forms across lifetimes
Birthed from drops the cave grows from a thin line.
Grain by grain, our sand erodes down the divine
hungry maw as it yawns with vacuous design. 

The void grows.
Our void calls.

Birth of a Cave

Where do you go when the world goes down? Up the holler, where everything is 10 years behind, of course! This lil' ditty combines reggae, dubstep, bluegrass (among other genres) to imagine what it'd be like to live up the holler with radioactive crawdads and snails as the rest of the world collapses. 

Lyrics:
VERSE 1
Livin it up three miles of what was 23
I avoid the line that’s eaten all humanity
And I, I’m passing the days away I stay and play
With radioactive crawdeads with pinchers the size of nuclear warheads
And I, I saw the sky. 
Ten years ago tomorrow I saw the sky die.
But friend if you ask me, I say we had it coming.
Not that I’m glad it happened, but we had it coming.

Moving it on, stepping it up, we’re weeding out the roadkill.
Plugging it in, turn it up, all the radio plays is static.
Making the call and flipping the switch is really all that happened.
Cleaning the house and baking the cake all the TVs went to static. 
But I’m glad that I live ten years behind 
In the shoeless country with no concept of time.

But while you burn and twitch, I’ll find my niche
Be living up a HOLLER! When the world goes…
I’ll be living up a HOLLER. When the world goes…
...down.

VERSE 2
Guess who’s coming to dinner, the ghost of Red Fox (that’s right ya dummy!)
Via transmissions from space. Feeding us transitions we’ve made.
I and I watch it all come round through
on my hydroelectric creek-powered snowy boob tube.
These visions that I see, a scene from another reality 
help me to forget the man-eating snails in my flowerbed.

Moving it on, stepping it up, we’re weeding out the roadkill.
Plugging it in, turn it up, all the radio plays is static.
Making the call and flipping the switch is really all that happened.
Burning the house and baking the soul and people made of plastic.
But I’m glad that I live ten years behind 
In the shoeless country with no concept of time.

But while you burn and twitch, I’ll find my niche
Be living up a HOLLER! When the world goes…
I’ll be living up a HOLLER. When the world goes…
...down.

Holler

This genre-defying tune is about a lil cloud too stubborn to rain. 

Lyrics:
There was a long time that
A stubborn storm cloud sat
High in the sky looking down on the world

He watched the wee people
Sitting upon the hill
Pointing up and admiring his form. 

The blue around him swelled
With new puffs of moisture
Gaining mass then releasing back to earth.

Why should he follow suit? 
And just give up his sum
When the people liked his current shape.

He just looked down at the ground below and said:
I love this life. I'm not giving it up for nothing.
I love this life, so don't take it away.
I love this life, with every ounce that I am.
Bottle the tears and save em for next year, 
they're me and I’m them as I say:
don't take this life away.

The stubborn storm cloud stood
In the same spot for years
Floating next to his friend the hill.

His brethren binged and purged
Upon the hillside dirt. 
And he watched through snow, brown, and green.

How many years did pass
Before the clouds vanished?
Leaving the folks wanting for their crops. 

One day they too were gone,
And the hill was all alone.
But still our cloud spared not one drop 

He just looked down at the ground below and said: 
I love this life. I'm not giving it up for nothing.
I love this life, so don't take it away.
I love this life, with every ounce that I am.
Bottle the tears and save em for next year, 
they're me and I’m them as I say: 
don't take this life away.

The red sun charred the earth
As hot winds chewed the hill
Leaving a sad mound of cracked dirt.  

The storm cloud’s belly growled
With rumbles of thunder
As he watched his friend withering.

Our cloud could help the hill
With just a bit of rain
If he'd relax the molecules within

He fought the will to be
A loner and complete  
 then relaxed and let gravity win

He rained down upon the old dry mound and cried:
 
I love this life. I'm not giving it up for nothing.
I love this life, so don't take it away.
I love this life, with every ounce that I am.
Bottle the tears and save em for next year, 
they're me and I’m them as I cry: 
absorb this life and stay.

Stubborn lil Cloud

This little ditty started out with a banjo riff in 9/4 and grew from there. It's still growing (there's a vocal melody in there, but no lyrics as of yet).

Banjo ditty 2 snippet

Yet another work in progress. This drudgy tune merges the intimate plucking of banjo with gut-shaking wobbly synth bass.

Banjo dubstep

I wrote and recorded this song about a decade ago. It's about aging; growing up and leaving the holler. 

This Creek (demo)

This shuffling banjo ditty is in 9/4 and needs a second verse and a bridge.  Lyrically, it's about how friends can be reduced to untrustworthy substance slaves.

of Jenny's Creek

Popular tracks