I Got Lucky
If John Prine were a little less country and a little more hip to the jive. If Lucinda Williams was more funny and a little less depressed, but still really real. And if she was a dude. If Bob Dylan never read Rimbaud and just said what he meant. If Townes Van Zandt went to college, assuming he didn't go to college, and if he did, if he went to class. And if he was alive. If the Counting Crows dude was a little less whiney and a little less poppy. If Bruce Springsteen never met the E Street and didn't have such a stiffy for car metaphors. If rock and roll rocked less and rolled more, and remembered where it came from. If you heard Bob Dylan's first record and went out and bought a harmonica and a guitar and started making up songs, and they were good. If your bluegrass buddies needed a bass player so you went out and got a bass and learned to play. If half the world struck you so stupid that all you could do is make fun. If the other half of the world struck you real and hard as the bathroom tile, when bathrooms used to have tile. If words were sticks and ears were eyes. If you wanted to quit your job and make a record, so you quit your job and made a record. If you were friends with a bunch of musicians and brought them in on this track or that, and they were willing to play for nothing, but you insisted on paying them, but not very much, and they were cool with that. If you landed in a tiny town surrounded by Wilderness, and what do you know, this guy Fred Baker has just moved to town, and he's run his own recording business for years, and he has a great ear, and he's setting up a new studio, and there's a Hammond B3 in the living room, and he can play just about anything and knows how things should sound. If you buy I GOT LUCKY, you'll be glad you did.