exit/bedlam | A Saint For Derelicts

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United States - Idaho

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Folk: Power-folk Country: Country Folk Moods: Type: Lyrical
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A Saint For Derelicts

by exit/bedlam

Five bastard songs of loss, despair, and redemption written in a trailer in Northern Idaho, recorded in a bedroom somewhere in the City of Angels.
Genre: Folk: Power-folk
Release Date: 

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  Song Share Time Download
1. Kitchen Light
3:06 album only
2. That River Grief
2:58 album only
3. Perfume and Smoke
2:33 album only
4. Tracing Memory in Constellations
3:35 album only
5. Where They Say The Lord is a Ghost
3:30 album only


Album Notes
I wrote these five songs along the outskirts of my hometown in Northern Idaho. I was living in a single-wide trailer, reading and writing in an abandoned church where I'd often pray with one hand and smoke with the other. These songs are oriented around a theme that follows a man ambushed by loss, despair, recollection, and, ultimately, death and redemption.

I drew solace and refuge from literary fellas like the Montana poet Richard Hugo, Charles Bukowski, John Keats, etc., as well as those songwriters who've nailed the song down hard and sweet -- guys like Hank Williams, Tom Waits, and Johnny Cash. While I don't compare myself to them, their words and music flew around my trailer like derelict angels (and still do) so I owe them mention.

The culmination of loss in the final song (Where They Say The Lord is a Ghost) is inspired by an old Brit I met at my shitjob while living in Los Angeles. He was a broken, old man in his sixties trying to beat down despair though death seemed a corner away. We'd ditch the city for a place called Pine Mountain sixty miles north and go wander the woods, maybe shoot his .38 or just mumble on about women and how they're just too beautiful and confusing. Anyway, John slowly sunk into his illness and simply disappeared one day. Maybe he figured out that life was never meant to be a story, it was always meant to be a song.

While the recording ain't perfect, it ain't half-bad either. I'm wary of too much polish and veneer on a song. It can take the life right out of it, making it sound like a beautified corpse, so I chose to do it alone and will live with the few wrecks that may exist in it. I hope it does something for you, maybe down a late night freeway or some unkept backroad that only you and crows know about.



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