The don’t-you-remember-me of “We’ve Met”

I’ve been on both sides of that question – and it probably sucks the most to be the one asking it. I guess that’s what I was thinking about when I wrote it: I’ve had quite a few experiences with people where they say, “You know me …” and I’m trying to flip through the Rolodex in my head thinking, “Oh, God – I’m going to be such an asshole by the end of this conversation.”

Sometimes it’s better to come clean and just say, “I’m so sorry; I apologize, but it’s not going to happen – I really don’t remember who you are.”

Of course, If they really knew me, they’d know that I can’t remember shit. (laughs)

Where “Codeine” came from

When I wrote “Codeine”, I’d been up ‘til 3 or 4 o’clock in the morning the night before playing pool and I was dealing with some difficult things at that point in time – I was kind of in a bad place.

I woke up at 8 o’clock with basically the whole song stuck in my head. I tried to talk myself into not getting out of bed for, like, 10 or 15 minutes but then I didn’t know if it would come back. I finally said to myself, “Man, I just can’t let it go; if I go back to sleep, it’s not going to be there.” I got up, made a pot of coffee, and jumped into it.

“Codeine” was one of those songs that didn’t take any longer to write than it did to write down. “Dress Blues” was that way. So was “Decoration Day” when I wrote it 10 or 12 years ago: I woke up first thing in the morning and that all just came out. I was on the road with the Truckers and at the time we were staying at people’s houses. I got up, went outside, sat down on the porch, and wrote “Decoration Day”.

Jimbo Hart and the walking bass

“Codeine” was the first time Jimbo has ever recorded on the standup bass – he’d only gotten the thing about a month before we recorded that song.

One of Derry’s friends up in Washington, DC had that bass and had played it on some sessions; he actually had two of them in a small apartment … didn’t really have the room for two standup basses. (laughs) Jimbo’s dad had to go up to the DC area to pick up a car – he works on cars and buys hot rods and that kind of thing. He picked up that bass while he was up there. I wish I had a picture of him driving through DC towing a hot rod behind him and an upright bass in the trunk.

Like I said, Jimbo had it about a month before we went in and recorded “Codeine”. He really nailed it.

Regarding the question of whether the woman in “Codeine” left on her own accord or if the fellow singing it drove her out

It doesn’t matter if she’s gone. (laughs)

The inspiration for “Stopping By”

That song is definitely coming from a personal space … the details have been changed because I don’t want to hurt the innocent, you know? In “Stopping By”, I’m not really talking about my own life, because I’m very close to my family and grew up really good friends with my father … the people I’m referencing in that song didn’t have the same kind of situation that I did. But I’m familiar enough with people and the situation to be able to write it with some kind of clarity.

I think this whole album is like that – this is the most story-driven thing I’ve done as far as my own records.

The emotions just below the surface of “Daisy Mae”

That song is coming from a place of protection. The narrator in “Daisy Mae” is trying to protect something that he cares a whole lot about. It sort of reminds me of conversations with some of the older people that I grew up around: they were very sweet people but at the same time, there’s a potential for violence if things come to that.

There are some of the sweetest people in the world that I know – people in my own family who I really love and respect – who will resort to just ridiculous amounts of violence if they get angry and provoked enough.

The nasty guitar on “Never Could Believe”

We wanted “Never Could Believe” to have that really nasty, under-produced sound. I was playing an old Harmony from the 1920s that my uncle found in a flea market in Birmingham. He’s an antique collector, so he’s always going to the shops and flea markets and trying to find things that nobody’s come across yet. He gave it to me for Christmas – I have no idea how much he paid for it, but knowing him and knowing he’s a good negotiator, I’m betting he got a ridiculous deal on it.

I sent it to Scott Baxendale, who’s moved his guitar shop to Athens, GA now. Scott builds guitars – he’s built one for me and ones for a bunch of my friends – and does repairs and stuff. He went all through the old Harmony: refretted it, rebraced it; put a pickup in it … he did a great job. I’ve used that thing for more recording already than any other guitar I own. It’s a beauty.

Chad’s presence

Chad nailed that New Orleans feel on “Never Could Believe”. He started playing live with us just after we finished the last album. He’s really great, both in a live setting and in the studio.

Chad’s kind of the “anti-drummer” as far as his personality goes. He’s really down-to-earth and calm – a good, level-headed guy in the van … and that’s important. (laughs)

Paying homage

“Heart On A String” was originally recorded down here by Candi Staton back in 1970. The original album is hard to find, but it’s one of my favorite soul records and one that never got its due.

There are so many really fantastic R&B singers from the 60s and 70s who never got the attention they deserved – folks like Jimmy Hughes or Ann Peebles. Look at Bettye LaVette – she’s had some success lately, but when she was originally out there doing her thing, not a whole lot of people even knew who she was.

Trying to record a song like “Heart On A String”, you learn so much about the original version: it was beautifully sung and beautifully performed. It’s really hard for me to talk myself into going in and re-recording a soul song like that. But I did it because I think that people need to hear that song. I want them to dig back in the past and find the original version of it … and understand where it came from.

The sung-from-a-barstool feel of “Save it for Sunday”

There’s a bar downstairs where I live; I spend a lot of time down there and everybody has a story. It’s one of those things where you don’t even want to talk about what’s going wrong in your life – especially where things haven’t been going well lately for a lot of people. The guy on the stool next to you has always got it worse and the guy next to him has got it worse than he does and so on.

The area I live in – part of north Alabama – has never been a very economically successful place. It’s always been sort of a ghost town.

At the same time, there’s a lot more going for a place than just economics. I remember watching a documentary about New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina and someone mentioned the recession. And one of the folks who lived there said something like, “Recession? We’ve been in a recession since we were born. There’s always been a recession here – we’re used to it. We can handle that.”

On being a voice for veterans

I guess “Tour of Duty” is almost a follow-up to “Dress Blues”. I had a whole lot of people come up to me and tell me their story after they heard “Dress Blues”.

It was always a great thing for me to listen to the folks who have made it back … because you don’t get to hear from the other people – the ones who didn’t. I’ve seen a lot of really happy, really well-adjusted, really emotionally-stable guys and then I’ve heard a whole lot more that were having a hard time with being back with their family; being back in the place where they grew up; and trying to recondition themselves to civilian life.

I think they’re fine for the most part, and really making an effort … but a lot of them have turned into great actors. Since they’ve come back from the Middle East, they don’t want their wives or their parents to see them all shook up – they feel they wouldn’t understand it anyway if they did. So they’ve become really good at masking a lot of those emotional problems that they have.

I can’t assume to know what it was like there for them or know what it’s like since they came back. But I feel I know people from the area – people I grew up around – pretty well and it might be a little easier for me to read between the lines with what these guys are saying. There’s more to it than, “I’m glad I made it home.” That’s what I’m trying to say when I write about them.

I try my best, anyway.

Pages:« Previous Page