The Red Spot Rhythm Section | Worry: Songs of Homan Freed

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Worry: Songs of Homan Freed

by The Red Spot Rhythm Section

Worry: Songs of Homan Freed is a collection of songs and journals from a future broadcast leaked back in time. The Red Spot Rhythm Section have recreated these temporally homeless songs in this retrospective album.
Genre: Folk: Psych-folk
Release Date: 

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  Song Share Time Download
1. Diggin Up the Yard (With Journal)
3:44 album only
2. Worry (With Journal)
4:31 album only
3. Soldier in the Army of the Lord (With Journal)
3:45 album only
4. How Do You Take Your Tea (With Journal)
4:15 album only
5. Don't Patent Me (With Journal)
4:43 album only
6. Midnight Store (With Journal)
4:30 album only
7. Paranoid Song (With Journal)
3:22 album only
8. Reading from the Journal of Homan Freed: 1.
0:59 album only
9. Reading from the Journal of Homan Freed: 2.
0:30 album only
10. Reading from the Journal of Homan Freed: 3.
0:40 album only
11. Diggin Up the Yard
3:13 album only
12. Worry
4:10 album only
13. Soldier in the Army of the Lord
3:17 album only
14. How Do You Take Your Tea
3:56 album only
15. Don't Patent Me
4:13 album only
16. Midnight Store
3:50 album only
17. Paranoid Song
2:44 album only
Downloads are available as MP3-320 files.


Album Notes
Homan Freed

"I did not start out to be a musician; I started out to be a farmer, but encouraging growth from the land become ever more difficult. Fertilizer began suffocating the soil, making the crops dependent on it as a heroin addict is to junk. This turned our agricultural stock, once proud and free, into wave after wave of picture-perfect deformities, lurching out of the ground, soaking up sun and water and artificial nutrients, and fending off every predator save the harvesting machines, leaving nothing to the soil but want. Such things could barely be said to be alive, and eventually the earth just gave up growing, which is why most vegetables come from HOG Farms these days - the Hydroponic Orbital Greenhouses.

On a break between wars, I rode some trains, ended up underground, and found I liked it. Situational gloom was preferable to pandemic spray-washed happiness. I hung around some abandoned freight lines for awhile, bartering my collection of turn-of-the-millennium-era seeds for other goodies - solar chargers, netbooks, a sturdy, nut-brown guitar, and winning the brief companionship of the finest woman to ever ride the rails, who bore my seed and disappeared as certainly as everything else in life.

Through the abandoned networks of travel and communication, I learned fantastic stories of power and deceit. I made it my mission to track down those beyond access, to examine the dirt under the fingernails of the hands on the levers of power. Failing at this miserably, I sat down with my guitar and resorted to the refuge of those with too much to say and not enough to lose - and I started writing songs."

Quotes from Homan's writings, about these songs.

Diggin Up The Yard - "All of my chief vocations - farmer, soldier, hobo - have involved lots of shovels hitting the ground. From my diggings, I keep a collection of tiny treasures and knicknacks. The more I dig, the more I traverse my own history: civilizations always seem to build on each other's ashes. All the wealth and power accumulated in this world, and all the artifices that shield them, are ruins waiting to happen."

Don't Patent Me - "I woke up one day to find myself the prisoner of a hospital. I was presented with a chart showing which segments of my genome belonged as intellectual property to which companies, and to whom I would owe money for access to his my genes. Always a vaguely religious man, I took great offense to this, and the weeks I spent in the hospital my will to freedom struggled with my will to wellness. This song represents that struggle, and the refrain is what I chanted down the street upon my escape."

How Do You Take Your Tea - "…a lament to the possibility of life, a query for a life yet unlived. It's a ballad full of advice to the still-spirit, questions unanswered, and gratitude for dream-guidance."

Midnight Store - "While living in the railroad camp, acknowledged as something of a local horticultural expert, I did a good business helping others among the encamped determine the edible from the semi-poisonous among the produce cast off by the nearby agricultural spaceport. Occasionally I participated in warehouse raids to secure supplies of the more edible provisions. Eventually we made a march to the mansion of the spaceport director, who repelled us by having his guards shower them with swill while personally delivering us a bullhorn sermon from on high, regarding the virtues of his fortune."

Paranoid Song - "… he [that military intelligence scientist] spoke of a pandemic of super-technology running rampant in the higher circles of power. He first offered me a neural scan and insisted I take some psychoactive pills before he agreed to speak. As a result, my notes from the meeting are in a barely comprehensible scratch. Apparently, this engineer was certain that great powers of destruction and upheaval were wielded by some quite unstable hands. He had treated his windows with so many defensive filters that only ominous silhouettes could be seen through them."

Soldier In The Army Of The Lord - "The best measure of hypocrisy is to bludgeon with sarcasm. So many of [his fellow Army draftees] were convinced they were on a holy mission, that I began to test them with revelatory exclamations. I would claim to have divine visions, and rave about the glory of the End. Soon I couldn't tell friend from foe, which perfectly reflects being in the Army. I wrote this song around that time, but kept it secret."

Worry - "Growing up, we learned to fear the winds of the plains, if they got too twisted. We would do drills where they'd leave us crouched in the corridors of the school, practicing to duck from danger. This was useful for us, as the weather got stranger, but it was even more useful for those who like their people trained in the arts of fear and worry."

The origin of this particular song is a bit more spotty, as a few fearful refrains comprise most of the lyrics, and there is no mention of it in the received writings of Homan Freed. There are allusions to tornado drills that probably reference Homan's Midwestern rearing, but it is unclear whether that which has gone missing is literal or metaphoric. Is the song about some kind of general ennui, or is there a specific destructive item that has gone missing and possibly fallen into ill hands? - JSeego



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