My pal (and frequent collaborator) Wm. Lenker wrote this song but didn’t record it for his fine West of 101 album – i liked it so much that one cold January evening, i showed up at his house on Steamboat Island Road at the end of the Puget Sound and *demanded* that we go into the woodshop and record for my entertainment.
He kindly obliged and laid down various tracks, with guitar, vocals and banjo. I recorded and mixed down the rapidly recorded takes to suit my own old-timey taste, complete with heartfeltness, loquaciousness and longing – background noise of fire and beers included.
Billiam does all the instruments and most of the singing (little bit of my ghost vocals) and i’m on the hook for the recording, producing and mixing.
While in a cabin in Jamaica, i recorded a sort of spoken word song made from loops, samples and layered tracks of sorta-singing and spieling about the changes in my city and the importance and interestingness of observation. Available in poetry only version as well.
From a cabin in Jamaica comes a spoken word song made from loops, samples and layers of spoken and sorta-sung vocals inventing stories about a workers’ boarding hall which burned down years back and the foundations sits, still.
