Yesterday was a goof off day for the Lovely Carla and I.

Personally, I am pretty good at unplugging and goofing off. You know, I may even be a world-class goof. I approach goofing off as if it’s an Olympic sport, or maybe a fine-art pursuit. A long, lazy Sunday. A no agenda, no obligation day. Leisurely morning, hot bath, a 30 minute Chi Machine session, a long, luxurious meditation in the living room surrounded by our 3 feathered friends. You know it was all about relaxing, renewing, recharging.  A total refresh.

We watched an old concert film, “It’s Too Late to Stop Now,” (1973) Van Morrison and the Caledonia Soul Orchestra filmed at the Rainbow in London.  Amazing band, amazing performance, Van the Man at his Irish Rebel Soul peak. Phenomenal. So inspiring.

We then watched Nick Cave and Warren Ellis in “This Much I know to Be True,”  (2022) performing songs from their two masterpiece albums “Ghosteen” and “Carnage.” A knockout film. So powerful & spiritual. Nick is on a singular road, heart and head blasted wide-open. The best, finest, most powerful music of his career.

I finished the day listening to a demo song Carla and I recorded in front of a blazing fire a few days ago. A long, rambling, shambling 6 minute song recorded on a compact digital recorder. A work in progress.

We are definitely onto something. It seems our latest songs are so “us,” definitive examples of our self-defined 21st Century Druid Music. We seem to be traveling back in time. A simple drum, an acoustic guitar, two voices.  Primal, obscure, poetic lyrics inspired by the natural world. 

I need to perfect my playing, delicate finger-picking alternating with bold strumming with a pick. Subtle changes in timing and approach. We may want to tighten the song up a bit. Every time we play it, it seems to get a bit more refined and complete. We do feel we are on the path to one of our best new songs. So exciting.

Goofing off, a doorway to inspiration. Ha. Funny. That’s the way of  The Fool. – Jammer

There are famous songs that were written and played by the fire. I think of Jimmy Page and Robert Plant writing “Stairway to Heaven.” I think of Neil Young playing “Will to Love,” a kooky, mad-vision song of wild inspiration, recorded before a crackling fire, with logs sparking, and Neil imagining himself as a salmon swimming upstream to give it all up for love.

Yesterday, the Lovely Carla and I had our own little songwriting session before a beautiful, warming flame. There is a sort of hushed vibe before a fire, maybe it sparks some deep in the bone memories of previous generations, a secret code imprinted, tattooed, deep down in the core of our beings. Yes, that’s how it felt to us yesterday.

A heady, trippy vibe, for sure. We were sheltering in a landmark site, a grand old house built in 1890. A blazing fire, an acoustic guitar, a simple hand-drum. Two voices. We worked on two new songs one for sure called “Dagger Heart,” the other, maybe, “Murmurations.” Two new works in progress.

We are so happy when we are engaged in the making of new songs. There is possibility, hope and joy in the process. Of course, it is work too. The good work. Work that feels like play. The two of us lately seem to be transporting to another time and dimension when we play these new songs. They are definitely in that 21st Century Druid Music vein. There is something beautiful and exquisite in the making.

Enchanting, conjuring. Totally consuming. Alive in the fire of creation. That’s the way to do it. Damn the torpedoes. – Jammer

“The Wolf,” unique, slimmed down, elemental. Sometimes 15 minutes is the whole enchilada. Especially when it’s for a worthy cause…

The Lovely Carla Hayden , Randy Farr and I at the Montrose Saloon as whitewolfsonicprincess for the Michael Teach benefit show. What a great communal, musical gathering of the tribes. Special guest guitarist Victor Sanders. An extraordinary event, a stellar lineup. 15 minutes of glory. “Hey, Hey, My My, Rock & Roll can never die!” (Neil Young) – Jammer

Dear Jason Isbell, yesterday, darkness came early here. Hiding out at the mansion with my little furry companion. Headphones, a Walkman disc player, and silver spinning discs. The soundtrack: Weathervanes, Southeastern, The Nashville Sound, Reunions. grace, beauty, sadness & fire. Burning ferris wheels dancing in my head.

It happens every year. Still it is easy to forget. The seasons change. The sun tilts. The temps edge down. The leaves turn, and then, they fall like brittle, dead, unopened letters. We mess with the clocks. As a result, daylight shrinks faster. There are a few hours of glorious sunshine, bounded by vast periods of darkness. Blackout late afternoon. Dead-dark early a.m. The darkness is deep & profound. No way around it. That’s the trend over here. Makes one “pull in their horns.” There are all those solitary pursuits. Writing. Playing guitar. Conjuring up songs. Mainlining albums from Jason Isbell; graceful, powerful, sad & inspiring; artful recordings, suffused with a burning fire of love and madness. The necessary tonic to make it, to keep the flame alive in your heart and head. Burning raw in the darkness. – Jammer

You hit the bottom after a flurry of activity. What to do?

Get all 3 of your guitars, (1 electric, 2 acoustic), out of their cases and do a few minor set-up adjustments. Open up your little box of guitar picks, and try out a few neglected, long discarded ones. Start strumming a guitar, explore the fret-board, put your fingers in “never before”, configurations, see if you come up with anything interesting. Have a white sheet of paper and a pen handy, and maybe kick around that phrase you came up with when you misheard a Jeff Tweedy lyric while listening to Wilco’s great album “Summerteeth.” (1999).

Sometimes that is a way towards a new lyric, mishearing someone else’s lyric, it’s a way to come up with your own phrase, something you never previously had rattling in your head.

Oh yeah, don’t forget to have that little digital recorder handy, just in case something starts to flow. You may think you will remember what you come up with, but often, it’s the unique rhythm and phrasing that is everything, those weird quirks become the heart and soul of a new song.

So yeah, the lyrics spill out onto the page. A couple hours playing the tune, with a few new parts, singing these homemade lyrics into the recorder, and it all starts sounding like something. Wonder if this one  will see the light of day, will it fly with my songwriting partner? And what about our band? Does this one have what it takes to make it?  Who knows? It’s all a process. Sometimes the new thing flies, sometimes not.

Suddenly, not at the bottom anymore, a glimmer of a hope of a new song, you know, who knows? Maybe? Sometimes the inspiration comes from the lack of inspiration. Filling the black void with new vibrations.  It’s a hopeful start and a way forward. – Jammer

Thinking about my very busy Saturday this last weekend. 

The highlights: 

(a) Played music with two amazing women, just three of us in an intimate circle, playing together, unplugged, in our rehearsal studio. A vocalist/percussionist, a violinist, and me on guitar and vocals. Powerful, intimate, hushed, and transcendent. Feeds the soul.

(b) Played a set at a local saloon with my “band of brothers,” a ragged, jagged r&r outfit. Fired up the electric guitars set to max on vintage tube amps. Kicked out the jams. Think Neil Young’s Crazy Horse crossed with Joey’s Ramones, with a dash of Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood’s snaky guitar interplay. Oh yeah, feeds the soul.

(c) Played drums at a gathering of Shamans, (all women), who called on the earth, the sun, the moon and conjured up the spirits. We played in a side room with other drummers, a bass player and a guitarist. The music was ethereal, primal, with a driving tempo. I got lost in the beat of a drum. It was hypnotic, all consuming. Oh yeah, feeds the soul.

Got home late, crashed in heap, a long restful sleep. That was a good day, feeds the soul, no doubt. – Jammer

A “new” Beatles song? The last Beatles song? You might think I’d be happy to hear John Lennon singing a song, with the other mop-tops playing along, and although it is nice to hear John’s voice, my first reaction to the release of this song is right in line with George Harrison’s judgement: Harrison grew frustrated (working on the demo) and dismissed it as “[expletive] rubbish.”

I mean, “Just Gimmee Some Truth.” – J. Lennon

Yes. I recoil from the hype, the hustle, the marketing push. This is not the last Beatles song. It is a glorified demo, a demo John recorded in the late 70’s well after the Beatles were no more, and Lennon was onto other things. John was done with the Beatles. If he not been gunned down in the streets of New York in 1980, would he have changed his mind? Who knows?! The words from his first solo album, recorded in 1970, are indelibly burned into my consciousness: “I Don’t Believe in Beatles,” and “The Dream is Over.”

So yeah. A nice little song. But also a bright, shiny lie. Maybe a sweet & seductive little lie. A nice sounding little lie. But a lie nonetheless. This is not for me. The marketing blitz of Beatles nostalgia is so off-putting. They were a great band, their story is the New Testament of R&R, They have an incredible catalog of songs which stand up even today. This song is not the real-deal. – Jammer