Get all 10 Jared Grabb releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Domain, Jimmy Paid the Price, Reflecting at the Table, Among Thieves, Fat Hill, Masters, We Do Not Live In Fear, Pulling Weight, and 2 more.
1. |
Low Grumble
02:07
|
|
||
|
The days have come when the only music to my ears is a low grumble. Don’t you whisper. Don’t you finger-pick. It don't reflect my trouble. Let the tracks distort. Go ahead and sing it hoarse, and make that kick drum rumble. I let my mind go blank. If I had a pint, I’d drink, but I can’t afford the stumble. And, when there are so many things we can’t afford – be it time, be it clothes, be it the luxury of letting go – we search the ether for a sound and for a tone. And, when we roll upon that low, we keep on moving forward. Don’t you know this town needs chains like a freed man? Don’t you know this town needs dreams like REM? What are we doing being weak and dependent, like the suits up in that tower are the only pioneering spirits? It don’t matter what I say. They’ll cut the jobs if money’s to be made. So, let this city be reborn. Yes, let this city be rebuilt/reformed by the loyal and unwearied. ‘Cause, when there are so many things we can’t afford, be it time, be it clothes, be it the luxury of letting go, we search the ether for a sound and for a tone. And, when we roll upon that low, we keep on moving. When there are so many things we can’t afford, be it time, be it clothes, be it the luxury of letting go, we search the ether for a sound and for a tone. And, when we roll upon that low, we keep on moving forward.
|
||||
2. |
Best
04:53
|
|
||
|
A couple of boys running around made a catapult to get a brick off the ground. Walkie-talkies humming in the neighborhood. We were smart enough to look for trouble where we could. You were the friend that I called best. We were far enough ahead to get bored of all the rest. Finding adventure in the bending of the rules. Until, you moved away, and Iowa seemed so cruel. So, in comes the music and math whiz. We were goofy. We were awkward, never seemed to fit. We were imagining a world. We were imagining a more vibrant world. You were the friend that I called best. We were far enough ahead to get bored of all the rest. Finding adventure in the bending of the rules. Until, I fell away and God seemed so cruel. When I fell away, I fell hard. In the corner of the room, solely focused on the art. So, when I caught a glance at your pages, I found myself a brother that no distance changes. You were the friend that I called best. We didn’t care to be ahead and be boring like the rest. Finding adventure in the bending of the rules. But, when our lives took on other shapes, I think you found me dull. But, I thank you ‘cause you introduced my love and me, my honeybee keeper, mother of my little stinker. Oh, free-thinker, you’re the woman for me. It took time to see you. It took you time to see me. I just knew that when I was with you, part of me was happy, because you’re smart in all the ways that I am not. You’ve no care for following consensus. I think you thought I was bluffing. I think you thought this was a trick. But, you are the friend that I call best. It seems we’ve never been ahead, but that’s never been our quest. Finding adventure in the bending of the rules. Well, I’m holding on with both hands, ‘cause life can be so cruel. But not with you.
|
||||
3. |
Cold, Hard World
02:50
|
|
||
|
Over railroad ties and under 2x4s, amongst the rocks and autumn leaves, there lies a rabbit’s corpse. And, around the corner amongst the house’s wiring, there lies a stray with the catch of the day, a mouse whose sun is setting. It’s cold. It’s a cold hard world. It’s murder amidst the crows that haunt the trees in the dark over dirty rows of ice and snow, where in the morning cars will park. And, to the man whose needle drugs we found, our eyes later stay glued. I feel a mix of pity, guilt, and fear each time he does intrude. And, it’s cold. It’s a cold hard world. Is this any place for my baby girl?
|
||||
4. |
Middle Years
02:32
|
|
||
|
It’s hard to find time in your middle years, and it’s hard to take chances as well, when you’ve a wife and a child who are depending on your wages to be stocking the shelves. And, you’re wondering if your life is slipping away in a status quo existence that someone else made. You know you’ve got to wonder what you’re teaching your girl. Are you giving her stability or a father who can’t be truly happy? And, I’ve heard the complaints about twenties: that it’s tough to know where to go. It’s hard to know just who to be. Well, I’m convinced that this feeling don’t leave. So, we’re wondering if our lives are slipping away in a status quo existence that someone else made. You know, we’ve got to wonder what we’re telling the world. Are we giving it stability or are we simply submitting?
|
||||
5. |
Two Paths
03:43
|
|
||
|
I could be walking through the trees, through a forest filled with wild things. And, I could see all time as presently. I could see faith through calamity. I could know myself as one of the beasts, and in this act set the packs at ease. Or, they could turn and devour me. I could live for the beasts, but will they live for me? I see two paths. I see two paths: one out of love and one out of fear. The first could leave us broken and the other leaves us here. I could be walking through the streets, and I could smile and nod at the folks I meet, but not speak words of consequence, be barren of conscience. I could see the world as A to B, as a constant and rigid thing. Thinking what was will always be, that I can’t and you can’t change you or me. I see two paths. I see two paths: one out of love and one out of fear. The first could leave us broken and the other leaves us. Two paths. I see two paths: one out of love and one out of fear. The first could leave us broken and the other leaves us here.
|
||||
6. |
Exodus
02:36
|
|
||
7. |
Patch of Green
03:20
|
|
||
|
Let there be light, so we can see. Let there be cars, so we can drive into the country. Let the fields open up until the highways and the crops are all we see. Let there be nights so full of stars. Grant a family without much a house that’s ours. We’ll make a home down south past where the city empties out and we can be masters of destiny. Gods of a patch of green, we’ll be. We’ll pound the hammers. We’ll pull old nails. We’ll hang dry wall and paint the sills. And, when trees need planted and a garden needs tilled, we’ll till. There will be long hours. And, we’ll eat fast food. We’ll be, oh, so miserable if we have to. But, there’s an end in reach and a vision that we can just begin to see. We’re masters of destiny. Gods of a patch of green. We’ll be forever struggling, but we can be at peace. You’ll see. The candles will burn at both ends, as us settlers settle in. But, they can’t burn that way forever. Maybe ‘til the housing fees are in. Then, we’ll both go part time. We can live off a smaller dime. We’ll be parents who are present. We’ll be artists once again. We’ll be more independent, more self-reliant, less like pawns, less like sheep. Masters of destiny. Gods of a patch of green. We’ll be forever struggling, but we can be at peace. You’ll see.
|
||||
8. |
You Are Home
03:34
|
|
||
|
There ain’t much to make a man feel more atoned than a winter’s morning spent with his baby alone. Snowflakes drift through that soft light and an Andrew Bryant LP is singing by his side. Yeah, you’re home. This is your home. Your home. No more days alone. Now, you spend your days dry. Teach a toddler how to sing. Her uke hangs on the wall. She’s at the table puzzling. And, when your wife comes home at the middle the day, her eyes still glow as you kiss her lips and say, “You’re home. I’m so glad you found me. You’re home. Yes, now that we’re family, you’re home. Let’s spend our mornings laughing. No more days alone.” Remember driving cross-country with a book of burned CDs, headlights breaking mist, bass washing over me? Without a floor or a motel on the cheap, the van kept rolling on with the band in back asleep with dreams of home. Hoping that someday it’d find you. Your home. Leave that drifting life behind you. Your home. Eyes open and brand new. No more scars to show. Yeah, you’re home, but do those sirens still find you? You’re home. Are there days that they still sing true? You’re home setting fence posts and painting decks blue.
|
||||
9. |
Goddamn Blessed Man
03:06
|
|
||
|
Goddamn Blessed Man, holding out his hands in the shape of a cup beneath a rushing fountain. Fountain of youth. Fountain of life. He bathes, he drinks inside moments spent, moments shared, moments failed, moments tried, moments loved, moments wrong, moments right, moments warmed by his child, by his wife. He’s a goddamn blessed man. He’s goddamn blessed. He’s thanking the women. He’s thanking the men. He’s thanking the circumstances he was raised up in. ‘Cause, you don’t have to be rich, and you don’t have to be free. You don’t have to live by another man’s philosophy.
|
||||
10. |
|
|||
|
So, it seems we’ve lived longer than Hendrix, than Janis and Jesus too. We may never make the history books. Well, damn. We forgot to die young. Live fast. Forever free. Nothing can hold you. On the web, in the paper, on the radio and TV, is that what they told you? We came of age amidst a Neil Young paraphrase saying, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.” But, we’d rather be cyclically ablaze, like a forest renewed by the flames. Yes, there will come a day when the world will fade away. Droplets of midnight rain across a heavy windowpane. But, if through it peeks the moon, please let it hold onto you until a new dawn, a new day. May you never say, “Die young. Live fast. Forever free. Nothing can hold you.” On the web, in the paper, on the radio and TV, is that what they told you? And, we know. Yeah, we know. Yes, we know what it means to be free. Nothing tied to you and nothing tied to me. Alone. No possessions. No home. No nothing. Die young. Live fast. Forever free. Nothing can hold you. On the web, in the paper, on the radio and TV, is that what they told you? That’s what they said.
|
||||
11. |
Wipe Your Eyes
03:29
|
|
||
|
Someday, I hope you see those roadways. Snow covered Dakotas and summer sun on the prairies. To know this world ain’t the same as on TV. To wipe your eyes as you’re waking up to see the inside of a car in a parking lot in Tennessee. Little girl with such possibilities, don’t let others’ paths be your crutch; others including me. This world is an open book, and there are dreams the dreamers have not yet dreamed up. The institutions will both limit and grow your reach. But, one thing I know is that the horizon has lessons to teach. So, someday, I hope you see those roadways. The wilds of Idaho and the mountain mists in the mornings. To know first-hand the people’s sentiments and feelings. To wipe your eyes as you’re waking up to see the inside of a car as it’s rolling up New Jersey. To be young, to be free, to seize opportunities, to be open, and to love like the world’s one family. ‘Cause, if you love, your love will come back, and if you labor you’ll find a weight off your back. Those around you will see you for what you are. Just open your heart and step forth. Onward into dark. Onward into light. Onward into dark. Onward into light. Onward into warmth. Onward into cold. Onward into new. Onward into old. Little girl with such possibilities, don’t let others’ paths be your crutch. Just follow your, follow your feet.
|
||||
Jared Grabb Peoria, Illinois
Jared Grabb's earnest brand of indie/Americana creates low-key anthems for all working class dreamers.
Jared Grabb recommends:
Covers album recorded by Jared to gather donations for First Try Sessions (provide guitars, amps, and lessons to kids 7-17).
go to album
Scouts Honor was Jared's punk band from 2002-2009.
go to album
Middle America Podcast
by Jared Grabb
Middle America is Jared's storytelling/history podcast.
go to albumIf you like Jared Grabb, you may also like:
Echo Dancing
by Alejandro Escovedo
The legendary Alejandro Escovedo returns with another country-rock scorcher.
go to album
Play It On The Tannoys
by Stranger The Horse
Rich and carefully-sculpted songs that cross-wire country and roots music with jazz, samba, and more.
go to album
Passion Fruit Boys
by Passion Fruit Boys
Nashville’s Passion Fruit Boys nail the effervescent janglepop of ’80s college radio with bright guitars and immediate hooks.
go to album
