So, on to the new songs.

This is part of a larger, partially abandoned collection of songs built around a central story as a through line. The collection was planned to be mainly electric guitar tunes but, as it went on, several acoustic based songs crept in and, eventually, were the only songs (so far) to make it out.

This is one of the creepers.

Very much so, really, since it was the first full song (with lyrics) I wrote when we moved to RVA. Written before the concept of the collection existed, it was just a tune floating out there on it’s own. But as some of the other songs found form, I actually found this fit with them remarkably well. It became the opening song of the collection and then sort of ran away with it.

It was written in early spring while walking along the James at Pony Pasture Park. I was jumping from rock to rock and singing various verses of this song into my phone. When I got home, there were dozens… and dozens of verses.

At times in my past there is a chance that I might have used them all. Luckily, this time, I didn’t.

I’m very fond of this tune and very found of the way the arrangement came together. It’s just a small collection of acoustic instruments improving over the guitar part and feels very natural. As it came together, I used the music for several teaser videos and, really, if I released singles, this would probably be the one for this collection.

The Many Islands of the James

You must believe that when I straighten my hat
And wash my brown jacket of stains
I dream of you there at the top of the stair
By the many islands of the James

Who long can you bear in the stultified air
As the cold weather comes with the rain
How long will you wait for that back garden gate
By the many islands of the James?

Well we are not young, we are not yet sung
But the moment will come just the same
Where all will be right from morning through night
By the many islands of the James

Can you keep in mind through long creeping vines
Of time that it’s worth all the pain?
And nothing is lost no matter the cost
By the many islands of the James

The ocean is wide shores battered by tides
Where old men sell hopes for their gains
But you will keep safe from their scheming and hate
The many islands of the James

You must believe that when I straighten my hat
And put on that smile that I feign
I dream of you there at the top of the stair
By the many islands of the James