Tag Archive: Revisited


Picture of a bad picture of The Villager from the ’70s

[Read part I, part II and Nashville part I] [When we had to have the film developed, we never knew if the picture was blurry until we got the pictures back.]

The Villager is one of the first places we played in Nashville – and one of only two venues we played that are still open. The other is the Exit/Inn. Joel had been jamming with a Nashville musician named Cat Waldeman. So Southern Plains was a trio again, with Bruce Gibson (the original third member) still in Dallas.

One of many things that hasn’t changed in Nashville is that most of the time when you play it is open mics or showcases. Meaning you only get to play one to three songs. We had three core songs that we played – two originals and one cover. We began each set with those three, which meant those were often the three songs we played, period.

The three songs were Cold Wind Blows, River That Flows, and Can’t You See. Kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? It was a sort of mantra. If you read the previous posts, you know that the last recorded version of River That Flows that Joel and I recorded just came out as a single this week. Cold Wind Blows is also on the Southern Plains Revisited and will be released as a single.

We called Cold Wind Blows our “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes”. Only because of the style of the song. We were jamming one day and we had a poem by a local street poet named Mostly Williams. If you let him crash at your place for a few days, he paid you with poems. So we wrote the music together and I added a few lyrics to Mostly’s poem. It’s a long jam song so we primarily played it live. But I found this version recorded and produced by George Turner. I made a few edits and re-mastered it for the album. There are other songs on the album that he recorded.

At the Villager, we played at least one full set. Of course we were paid in beer. It’s a small place and the crowd wasn’t near what you would call large. They seemed to enjoy the music, nonetheless.

Next up…well, you’ll just have to wait…it’s a good story….

Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

 

 

916 Acklen Ave., in Nashville

This was the house in Nashville where we lived on the second floor. The room with the three windows upstairs was my room. The front door of our apartment is on the far right side of the porch. Our other two roommates were Sonja and Debbie. (I’m not so sure about Debbie, but it’s close.)

Sonja was a pretty cool person. Debbie was a nice person, but she was a clean freak. We used to say she’d empty the ashtray after you simply tapped your cigarette on it. That’s an exaggeration, but not by much.

Building a beer can mountain is no easy task. First you have to drink a lot of beer – so it doesn’t happen overnight. Then you have to find a good corner of the room in which to build it. Joel, Sonja, and I – with a little help from our friends – did both. I don’t know how many cans high it was, or how many total cans, but it almost reached the ceiling. We were rather proud of it. People would come over to see it. It was rather impressive.

Joel, Sonja, and I were gone for the good part of a Saturday. When we arrived back home, Debbie had gotten rid of the can mountain. We were understandably pissed off. And we let her know in no uncertain terms. She wasn’t our roommate for too much longer after that. The can mountain wasn’t the only incident and we found out she was irritating as well.

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Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

 

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