Greenfield native Craig B. Moore releases “Thin Blue Line” to raise money for local police charities

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Greenfield’s own Craig B. Moore has partnered with C.O.P.S. (Concerns for Police Survivors-Indiana Chapter), the Hancock County Sheriff’s Department (to help purchase protective vests for officers), and the Rush County Sheriff’s Department (to help purchase 2 K-9s for the dept) as he releases his latest single, “Thin Blue Line.”

The single, which is available for sale at iTunes, Amazon and GooglePlay, speaks directly to the families of police officers who have lost loved ones in the line of duty. As Moore told me in a recent interview:

“The story behind the song is that my brother-in-law, Officer Joshua Brinson, had penned many thoughts about the increasing number of fallen brothers in uniform around the country. In his thoughts he wrote how devastating it must be for the family of these fallen officers as well as how it affects the officers who continue to work the Thin Blue Line every day and night. He asked me to take his journal and create a song in an attempt to capture the strong emotions a family may feel when being told their officer, their hero in blue, has lost his/her life in the line of duty. Not only the emotion of pain, but also the overwhelming sense of pride in knowing he/she was serving and protecting all of us so we can live out our life in peace.”

All proceeds, 90 cents for every 99-cent download purchase, will go directly to the above-referenced charities, Moore says. For more information, you can visit a Facebook page Moore has set up to promote the single, where you can reach out to him directly.

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INTERVIEW: “Whisperin’ Bill” Anderson

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Much like when I sat down years ago in Nashville to ask Dolly Parton a single question during a group press interview, I’ll admit to some trepidation upon sitting down to a phone interview early this fall with legendary songwriter “Whisperin’ Bill” Anderson. A member of the Grand Ole Opry and BMI’s first-ever “Country Songwriting Icon,” Anderson’s career has spanned seven decades, and he’s written hits with and for some of country music’s most legendary artists, including Vince Gill, Lorrie Morgan, John Michael Montgomery and Jon Randall in recent years, and back in the day notables like Porter Waggoner and, one of my all-time favorites, Roger Miller.

What is amazing to me about a songwriter like Anderson is how he’s adapted over the years. He started out working in radio while in college, and through elements of chance and hard work, he found his way into a huge hit with “City Lights” in 1957, a song he says he still can’t believe he had the ability to write, considering he hadn’t lived half the experiences yet. With the power of empathy, the ability to see through others’ eyes and write stories through them, he developed a skill few other songwriters have, and was able to turn that into decades of writing for legends of country music during the 60s and 70s.

And after a decade of acting during the 80s, during which he created TNT’s Be A Star program, an early precursor to the American Idol format and acted on various soap operas, he found his way back to country music via co-writing, turning his skills toward working with younger songwriters in Nashville’s more team-oriented setting of the modern era. As many of the writers of his age stagnated, refusing to adapt, he began crafting some of his finest work, including one of my all-time favorite songs of any genre, “Whiskey Lullaby,” which he co-wrote with Jon Randall.

In his book Whisperin’ Bill Anderson: An Unprecedented Life in Country Music, which came out this September via University of Georgia Press, Anderson opens the door to his songwriting past in great detail, something few other memoirists have been able to do in the genre. The detail in which he breaks down his songwriting process, including stories that often discuss, song by song, how he came to his ideas, is of great value to anyone who claims to love country music of that or any era. It is particularly enlightening if you’re, like me, interested in how the group writing process works in Nashville in the post-80s era.

I sat down to speak with Anderson by phone for a 15-minute interview that ranged widely and featured a great deal of personal insight into his songwriting and the experiences he’s had. From our shared laughter over my experiences at the Tick Tock Lounge experimenting with “Bill Anderson Karaoke” to his relief being able to finish the final line of a song Porter Waggoner wanted to record in the early 70s, there’s plenty to pick over for any aspiring songwriter.

– – – – –

I got your book back in July, and I read it in three days. It’s a great read.

I wish I could’ve written it that fast! [Laughs]

There were a couple nights I was up until three in the morning, I just couldn’t put it down.

Oh my goodness, well I’ll take that as a compliment. I hope it didn’t hurt you too bad.

One question I like to ask bands that have a lot less experience than you, so I’m sure you’ll have something to say about it — is there a song you wish you’d written, something someone else beat you to?

[Laughs] Oh there’s a bunch of ’em! You mean songs other people have written that I wish I’d have written? Every other time I turn the radio on I hear something I wish I had written! Oh golly, you want a specific title? There was a song … Tricia Yearwood had a song out several years ago that I really, really loved and it spoke to me I guess because I’m a songwriter. It was a song called “The Song Remembers When.” I just love that song.

I got a kick out of all the stuff in the book about you and Roger Miller, your friendship as songwriters. When you’re asked to give advice to up-and-coming songwriters, do you ever tell them to find someone to work with who they can bounce ideas off of like you and Roger did?

Mostly when people ask me about songwriting, they ask different questions. “What do I do with my songs?” They do that more than “how do I write a song?” Usually it’s more what do I do with these songs I’ve written? The thing that I stress to ’em is when they say “I’ve written a song just like ‘Folsom Prison Blues’” I say “Well that’s already been written, go back and write your own song! Be original.” That’s what I stress to them, because there’s already been a Johnny Cash, there’s already been a Merle Haggard and a Roger Miller or a Marty Robbins. Be yourself. Find your own voice, say your own thing and say it your way!

I like that you talked about the greatest asset a songwriter can have being empathy. I wondered if there were specific writers you’ve heard who you think have used that asset well to their advantage?

I think that’s maybe something … two things about that. Number one, I think that’s either something you have in your make-up or you don’t. An awful lot of writers, especially today, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with this, it may be the best way to write, they like to write about themselves. About things they really know rather than trying to necessarily empathize with somebody else. So they write about their own experiences, and I think that’s what the Guy Clarks of the world, and Kristofferson to a great degree, and Willie to a great degree, and Waylon you know, they kinda just wrote what they felt themselves and they hit the target with that a whole bunch of times.

That can be great if you’ve had all those experiences, right?

That’s true too, and you can’t write those kinds of songs when you’re thirteen years old, you’ve gotta get out there and live a little bit. I don’t know how in the world I wrote “City Lights” when I was nineteen because I’d never experienced half of what I wrote in that song. But I was just fortunate in being able to somehow make it make sense. But you’re right, you’ve got to live a little bit to be a songwriter. And the more you live and the more you try to absorb life around you, the more of a songwriter you can become!

Well that story you told about “The Cold Hard Facts of Life,” that blew my mind. Do you ever think you’ve written a better line than that closer?

[Laughs] I … I’ve never wrote one I was more thankful for! I’d painted myself into a corner!

I played that song for a friend of mine who’s in a punk rock band and he had never heard the song. And he’s like “oh my God, that song is boss!”

[Laughs] Well I spent all that time writing the story and painting myself into a corner, and I’m thinking how in the world am I gonna get myself out of this mess? And then I guess the good Lord just gave me that line. It just came, thank goodness.

I’m sure Porter was glad for it.

Well yeah, yeah. Porter was pretty happy about it. I was talking to someone the other day and they were reminding me how excited he was between the time he recorded that song and the time it came out. He went around tellin’ everybody about that song and singing it for ’em. He was proud of that one. And of course that made me proud in return.

That’s what I’ve always liked about country music. It’s a genre of music where the songwriter has a lot of power, because you get to write a song that you might not necessarily be able to perform yourself, but then it can take on a whole new life when you give it to somebody else. They get to do something to it and make it their own. And then the audience gets to hear it and it takes on a third life as they make it their own. You don’t necessarily get that in other styles of music.

Do you think that’s because down through the years country music has been so much of a lyrical art-form as opposed to just a groove or something like that? Because I think that has a lot to do with it.

Yeah, because when I was reading your book, I got inspired because I kept thinking of all these songs I’d heard that it turns out you had written but I hadn’t necessarily put your name to them. So I decided to go down to karaoke night and sing a bunch of Bill Anderson songs! So of course I did “Cold Hard Facts of Life,” because you’ve got to do that at karaoke.

[Laughs]

And after I’d done a few, this older gentleman came up to me and asked “Bill Anderson … there’s a song of his I want you to sing. Do you know this one song, it’s like ‘if you can life with it, I can live without it.’ Do you know that one?” And luckily since I’d read your book and pulled up a bunch of stuff on Spotify and had been listening to it, I was able to say “actually, I do!”

[Laughs]

And he says “that’s the first time I’ve been able to request that at karaoke and somebody actually knew it!

[Laughs] Oh, that’s a cool story! You never know, because people will come up to me and they’ll just mention the most obscure song or some event or something that I forgot about twenty years ago! But it’s amazing that some of ’em will hang on that!

Have you ever had a really great song come out of a bad co-writing session?

You mean has someone ever made a really great record out of a song I didn’t think was really that good? Because I saw that happen with Jon Randall when we wrote “Whiskey Lullabye.” Because he had no faith at all in “Whiskey Lullaby.” I did. I thought we’d written something highly unusual and that could be pretty good. Jon had absolutely no faith in it. He didn’t even want to do a demo on it until I just almost beat him over the head and made him do it. And though I can’t pull one off the top of my head, there have been songs that I didn’t feel all that good about and other people did, thank goodness.

Was there ever someone you’d hoped would record one of your songs and that never actually happened?

Well, I wish Elvis had of course! [Laughs] I was only around Elvis one time and the time I was around him he was performing in Las Vegas and somebody had told him I was in the audience. So he introduced me from the stage and sang a little bit of “Still” and I’m thinking “why don’t you go to a studio and make a record of that?” [Laughs] And then I had a chance to visit with him after that particular show and he told me that he’d always loved my song “City Lights” and he said “someday I’m gonna record that.” But he never did, unfortunately.

Is there anyone you’d still like to write with now that you’ve been doing a lot more co-writing?

Oh gosh, there’s so many great co-writers out there, people who you get on the same wavelength with. I love writing with Jon Randall. We’ve written many songs together, we’ve written some that are even darker than “Whiskey Lullaby” if you can believe that! [Laughs] And I love writing with Jamey Johnson because he’s so creative. Any time I get a chance to write with somebody who’s a real pro writer I love getting in the room with ’em.

I got a real kick out of reading about Vince Gill’s “Whisperin’ Gill” outgoing mail message. I figure that’s got to show that deep down we’re all fans. How do you still soak it up as a fan after all these years?

I’m still a fan if that’s what you’re asking. I was a country music fan when I was four or five years old, and have been all my life and that just never changed. There’s nothing I like more than to hear a well-written song and a well-produced country record.

Is there anything you wish someone would ask you but they never do?

No, I can’t really think of it. I think when you sit down to write a book like I’ve done with this one, if they haven’t asked me the question I hope I’ve answered it without them asking it.

Shane Owens proves “Country Never Goes Out Of Style,” gets Randy Travis’ nod of approval

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I hear a lot of country music these days, but it only rarely takes me back to the country I grew up on — the Randy Travis, Keith Whitley, John Anderson school of neo-traditionalist twang that dominated before Garth Brooks ushered in the era of pop/rock country. I can tell you, though, I’m keeping both ears out for new information on Shane Owens, a songwriter whose latest single “Country Never Goes Out Of Style” has earned the legendary Travis’ seal of approval. His appearance in Owens’ video for the song is his first in a music video since his stroke in 2013.

“Shane brings it all…vocal, writing, performance, and passion,” Travis said in a recent press release. “He has paid his dues, remained committed to traditional country and brings you a song with a heart and a story.”

Owens spent more than a decade on the fringes of the country universe, indeed paying his dues while playing country nightclubs throughout the south, before back-to-back record deals fell through due to labels folding. The sense is he had the chance to season these songs through those hard times on the road and by tasting failure in Music City, so the resulting album Where I’m Comin’ From — produced by another country legend, former ACM Producer of the Year James Stroud — bears all the earmarks of a potential winner.

“This new song means so much to me,” explains Owens. “It really talks about the way I was raised and the way I live my life today, so it means so much to have Randy join me in the video and talk about my music in that way. It was truly an honor.”

You can see the video below:

Ethan Burns drops single “Homeward,” maintains air of mystery

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In this era of instant gratification, it’s hard to maintain a sense of mystique about an artist. We’re at least three decades removed from the era when labels would release a band’s single with a “white label” in order to avoid giving radio programmers too much information, which allowed some interesting artists to gain airplay without overexposure.

So it’s refreshing to occasionally stumble on a songwriter about whom I can find little information, but whose song speaks for itself. In the case of Ethan Burns’ debut single :Homeward,” which echoes hints of Ben E. King’s “Stand By Me” in its bare delivery, less is more. The song is supported ably by a strong rhythm section, and Burns’ deep throaty vocals glue themselves to your brain on first listen, demanding frequent repeats. The California songwriter’s roots are in the working class, which shows through in his strong yet subtle delivery, making this a real keeper, particularly for a first single.

“Homeward” is perfect for rolling the windows down and cranking your car’s speakers to ten. Give your neighbors something to talk about! Better yet, when they come up to ask, show them this review. Let’s make this one the perfect unexpected summer viral sensation!

HOOSIER HOMECOMING: Jon McLaughlin closes out first Like Us tour with show at Deluxe

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Jon McLaughlin is no stranger to playing shows in Indianapolis, having grown up in Anderson, and it is common knowledge that whenever he returns to play a show here audiences are in for a treat.

This Saturday night he’ll return to play Deluxe at Old National Center for the first time, the final performance of his fall tour, where he’ll be promoting his sixth studio album Like Us which debuted in October. That album, produced by John Fields, manages to bridge the gap between the early piano songwriting he featured on his debut, Indiana, and the pop-based songwriting of OK Now which first introduced his music to a broader audience. This best-of-both-worlds approach serves McLaughlin well, proving that a decade into his career he’s still got the songwriting chops to find wider audiences.

Before a Thursday-night show in Minnesota, McLaughlin spoke to Hear! Hear! to discuss that record, the first concept album of his career, his experiences working with LA Reid when he first signed to Island eight years ago, and how his songwriting has evolved over the course of his career.

– – – – –

I saw on the video you posted online that this is your first time playing Deluxe. Minus all the fireworks you say we won’t be getting, do you have any big plans for the show?

We’ll mix in a little bit of Christmas music, but it’s not an actual holiday show this time. We did our first Christmas tour last year, and we did a bunch of shows at the Jazz Kitchen at the end of that. But we’ll throw in a couple songs this time too. I’ll say we’ll probably play longer than usual since it’s the last show of the tour. We’ve also got an opener, her name is Tess Henley, she’s killer.

On the new album you use the same producer who helYou med Indiana and OK Now, which showcased two sides of your musical personality. This one brings those personalities together. Was that intentional?

The first record with John Fields was during a time where I was in a phase where I wanted to write more on the guitar. Those were the songs that came about at that time, and John is a great guitar player and he can really take that … if you want to do that 80s pop thing, he can take it and run with it all day. So it was a really fun album to make but production-wise it really threw a curve-ball to the fans. So this one we did together, I told him before we even started, ‘here’s the rule for this record — you are not allowed to touch a single guitar unless we both talk about it, sleep on it, and decide this song actually needs it.’ So we approached it very differently. But these songs that we brought in, they were already a lot more piano-based, so I knew going into this record that even though I was going to use the same producer, I suspected the sound I had in mind would go over a lot better with the fans than the last one.

I really liked “You and I” where it starts out with that a cappella opening before you ever hear a note of piano. Did it start out that way or did you just decide it sounded better opening with only the vocals?

Yeah, I wanted it to be all a cappella initially, and maybe we would have some kind of tag thing coming in. We experimented with it, but in the end it felt right to just make it feel very live and raw with the piano coming in later.

That’s a hard thing to pull off, doing anything with just straight vocals, unless you’re a group like Pentatonix where you’ve got all the different voices to work with.

Right, exactly.

When I went back to listen to OK Now, I found the line from “Four Years” where you said “they tore my high school to the ground / and put a new wing on the East Lot / on my old parking spot.” and that drew me into “Don’t Mess With My Girl” because I noticed that same kind of insecurity projected through almost false confidence. At this point is that just part of your style?

That’s an interesting question. I don’t know if it’s a constant thing where I see it that way or if it’s kind of my persona. It may be a little bit of both. I was doing an interview in DC a couple weeks ago and the guy was being funny but he was going through the lines of “Don’t Mess With My Girl” and he’s like ‘okay, 150 pounds, is this you?’ and I was like ‘that’s not really true. I weigh 160, but 150 sounded funner!’ There’s a little bit in that song that’s the real me, and there’s the part where I take on a character. But that line from “Four Years,” that’s all true. They actually tore my high school to the ground.

Right, I saw that you and a baseball player are the most famous alums of Highland High, but the school doesn’t exist anymore.

Yeah, it exists but it’s a middle school now.

Has it been difficult staying true to your Hoosier roots throughout your songwriting career?

The question I get the most is ‘how do your Hoosier roots influence your music?’ And I don’t think it’s a conscious thing. Someone from Hawaii is Hawaiian but they don’t walk around thinking ‘okay I’m from Hawaii, I’m from Hawaii. I’m ordering a coffee but I’m not doing it as a Hawaiian.’

Everything’s not accompanied by a ukelele.

Exactly! That’s how you picture it but it’s not reality. But being a Hoosier influences who I am to some degree. It’s inevitable because that’s where I’m from and it’s where I’ve lived for thirty years of my life. So I don’t exactly know where Indiana stops and I start, but I think it definitely has influenced who I am as a person. When I’m actually conscious about writing, though, I’m just writing from my perspective.

This is your sixth album. At this point you’ve had plenty of live performance experience and time to stretch in the studio. Which do you prefer, the solace of studio work or fleshing songs out in front of an audience?

Definitely live. They’re both great, the studio can be really under a microscope, but that’s the case for both really. You’re not going to get up on stage and have merely an okay show. At least in my experience it’s either a great show or I really walk off stage and I know it was terrible. And it’s the same in the studio. The goal is to do something magical, so you write this song and and you think the song is ready to be recorded, you’re determined you’ve written the right song. You go into the studio aiming to make a finished song that moves people, and when that doesn’t work you can definitely get into a swamp where a day just feels off, or maybe a couple days. It’s so intense! It’s either intensely awesome or intensely terrible. So I love them both, but playing live is just my favorite thing about being a musician. I absolutely love it.

Do you ever work songs out in front of a crowd before taking them into the studio for that treatment?

I’ve changed my thinking on that. I’ve been on both sides, because I’ve definitely had songs that I’ve played out live as soon as I’ve written them … I get excited so I play it. And I suppose this is a good thing, because sometimes we’ll play a song and realize right away it’s not working. It’s not gonna make the album. But even the ones that feel great, when you go into the studio to record them, we look back on the version we played together before and realize that back when we played it live we didn’t even know how the song could sound. We shouldn’t have even been playing it yet.

It’s interesting that some of the songs you’ve recorded, but didn’t make it on an album, have gone on to work well with other artists. Did you ever imagine one of your songs would go on to be recorded by Beyonce?

That’s actually an interesting story. These two guys, Tricky Stewart and the Dream, they actually wrote that song. And they, along with LA Reid who was running Island/Def Jam at the time, they wanted me to record it. And I listened to the song and I could tell it was a great song but it didn’t sound like me at all. I’d never recorded an outside song, so there was a lot of back and forth, but in the end I wound up going out to Vegas to their studio and recorded it but the whole time it never felt like my song. Before the record came out, and that was slated to be the first single, I wrote “Beating My Heart,” and LA Reid heard the new song and said he liked the song better so let’s make that the lead single.

I bet that made you feel good that he liked your song better than the outside contribution.

Right, it definitely felt more like me. And I’m not saying that “Smash Into You” is a bad song, but it didn’t feel like it fit with me. So my version was out there but Beyonce ended up recording it and it’s become one of those things where the whole story never really got out there.

I thought it was cool that LA Reid actually liked your original songs from your pre-Indiana demo enough that he insisted they make the cut for Indiana because they were his favorites. It seemed you two were a good fit.

Like any record executive versus artist thing, you don’t always see eye to eye. I don’t think that has ever happened, it’s more typical for the artist to be like ‘I want to do this my way, this is what sounds good!’ and the record label says different. And I look back on a lot of those battles and I think ‘they were totally right! That song was terrible! Why was I fighting for that song so much?’ But that “Beating My Heart” situation was a nice situation where I ended up winning that battle and that song was the first single instead of “Smash Into You”.

Is there anything about the new album you would want fans to know but maybe they don’t already know?

The thing with the new album, which I think is definitely evident if you’ve listened to the album front-to-back, this is really the first somewhat concept album I’ve done, if I can call it that. This is a record where I had some songs that were good songs, and they were good enough to make the album but didn’t fit the concept so we didn’t put them on. Whereas in the past, I really just picked the ten, eleven or twelve best songs and made an album, tried to figure a title out that worked. This one actually has a common theme which is a relationship. I wanted to write an album that had all the different emotions involved in the ups and downs of a relationship.

You really nailed it on the closing song, “Walk Away”. It’s hard to write a song about divorce that doesn’t come off as overpowering. It reminded me of a piano songwriter, Lucas Jack, and the songs he’s written in the same vein. He’ll get right down to the bone lyrically, and that seemed what you were going for.

Yeah, that song wasn’t the one I originally wanted to end the album with, on that note lyrically, but musically it’s definitely the way the album needed to end. I’m a sucker for sad songs though.

One last question. I was looking through the list of artists you’ve toured with and Sister Hazel popped up. My wife and I are big fans of them. How did that come about, and what were they like to tour with so early in your career?

They were really the first band that took us out on the road! That was nine, almost ten years ago, and we were with them for most of the summer and some of the fall of 2006. That year we were with them a lot. I love those guys and they will always have a special place in my heart because they were the first guys to take us out and we learned a lot on that tour. The very first show, I don’t even remember where it was but someplace in Florida, but we were playing a show with them and we hadn’t even met them yet. We’re nervous and it was only like the 30th show we’d ever done, and we’re backing our van into the lot and we accidentally backed our trailer into their bus and broke their headlight. We literally hadn’t even said hello, but that was how we introduced ourselves. Of course they were totally fine, they treated us great and I see them every now and then … we’ll go on the Rock Boat and relive that experience.

THE BEST KIND OF COMPLICATED: James McMurtry’s latest, Complicated Game, a worthy listen

We grew up hard and our children don’t know what that means
We turned into our parents before we were out of our teens
Through a series of Chevy’s and Fords
And the occasional spin ’round the floor at the Copper Canteen

Nobody paints a lyrical picture of modern American life better than James McMurtry, who has the balls to open his first album in six years with the positively brilliant lyric “Honey, don’t you be yelling at me when I’m cleaning my gun; I’ll wash the blood off the tailgate when deer season’s done.” This is the man who wrote the searingly honest “We Can’t Make It Here Anymore” about the “WalMart”ification of American life, as well as the beautiful “Ruby and Carlos” off Just Us Kids, the perfect love song about the honest love most people experience rather than the Hallmark-style tripe we’re frequently force-fed.

According to a great interview in Rolling Stone Country, McMurty still takes his work seriously enough that he regrets how most fans misinterpreted his song “Cheney’s Toy”:

“People thought that I was saying that the soldiers were Cheney’s toys — I was saying Bush was Cheney’s toy. There were clues like Cheney saying, ‘You’re the man,’ to Bush to pump up his ego, so he’d go out and sell his politics, which I read in the New York Times. Not everybody reads the New York Times it turns out.”

Willing to admit that he erred in making such a polarizing song anchor the album as a single, he’s chosen to focus Complicated Game, his latest album, on songs tied to real people living real lives. And he’s taken on vocal coaching, apparently, which has given his road-weary vocals even more power.

I’m still digging into the album, but so far I hear no reason to suspect McMurtry’s voice is anywhere near wearing out, nor that his lyrics risk losing relevance. Check out “How’m I Gonna Find You Now” below — his latest single echoes back to the frantic vocal percussion of the fan-favorite “Chocktaw Bingo” in its lyrical Molotov cocktail of American experience.

Three decades into a career with no limits, McMurtry’s proving yet again that he’s the best kind of complicated. And Complicated Game is well worth making an appointment to play.

ALBUM REVIEW: David Corley – “Available Light”

If you grab a copy of NUVO Newsweekly this week you’ll see my 900-word interview with David Corley, a Hoosier songwriter whose work has gestated through three decades of musical, cultural and personal exploration. Available Light is one of those rare albums which arrives fully formed, as though Corley has recorded dozens of albums we just haven’t had the opportunity to hear, this being the best of the bunch.

The truth, however, is much more interesting, as is every song on the album. “Pink clouds, the sun comes like a rocket up to the edge of the horizon,” he sings at the album’s start, echoing the arrival of this music itself, a raw, beautiful example of how influential music can be when given the time to open up and develop. Echoing Swordfishtrombone-era Tom Waits and more modern acoustic folk from the likes of Alexi Murdoch, Corley has crafted what he calls an EP, but which is truly much more — thirty years of a man’s life condensed into an hour of music you’ll relive for years to come.

From the NUVO interview:

“To me, music is very magical when I write it,” he explains. “When I listen to something, there’s a certain thread that runs through the song where you can just feel when an artist means it. I have two rules about writing a song: one is you better have something to say, and the other is you better have something to say. That’s all I have.”

That level of technicolor realism is what makes Available Light more than just an amazing album. Shooting his life with the available light of a wide range of experiences, Corley does the impossible, allowing us to fully see those experiences and then transpose them over our own lives like one of those projector-slides from high school. Layers upon layers, these songs certainly have more than enough to say to keep listeners coming back time and again. And if this is the only thing we ever hear from Corley, as disheartening as that might be, we’ll still have the ultimate debut album.

I don’t, however, think this will be the last we hear from David Corley. And neither should you.