Dirty Work

Started in the hallways of the Halcottsville General Store. Playing an out-of-tune upright that had not been moved since 1992. Jackson played mandolin, sometimes we had a fiddler; Most times we had a few stragglers from neighboring towns drinking beer.
And it was always summer. Our jobs seemed like just another way to pass the days til we could be playing music. I guess they were. In the city, the same sort of work seems so much more laborious. Because it's even more fun when we get to play music now. We've gathered pebbles and created a big ol' rock of a band. It's not just that out-of-tune piano anymore. And Jackson's learned to play the harmonica. But my favorite songs are still born of that house. Everytime we go home for one celebration or another, a new and dirtier song is written. Last Christmas it was 'Baby from Space.' This Christmas it was 'Pound of Dirt.' I guess a home never loses it's magic.
And we've started a new one here in Brooklyn. I've got myself a brand new old out-of-tune piano. And she's a beauty. Takes up most of the living room. Perfect.

The beginning is something to be savored. The Dirty Birds and I have a year under our belt here in New York. We're just getting started, for sure. It seems like we've already been through so much. Everyday brings a new cage to be opened. We've gnawed our way out of a few so far... but we can never stop. When pursuing what you were born to do, you can never give up. I've come to realize how easy it is to distract oneself without being aware you're doing it. I used to get swept away with lovers and jobs, daydreams and boats, lovers and whiskey. But you have to run with your youth. It always feels like getting stuck on the business end of a giant wave. You have to let it take you- you have to give in to it. You'll come out the other side laughing, panting. Sometimes choking.. mostly smiling. And you've regained the trust you once lost in yourself. And shit that feels good.