PRODUKTBESCHREIBUNGEN
'Never Said Goodbye' Foreword by J. Anderson In August of 1956, two days before my 7th birthday, a policeman came to our home. Instinctively, I hid behind my grandfather's trailer as he knocked on our door. My grandmother answered and told the officer where he could find my mother. I heard the officer's regret as he told her my dad was lost. Lost? Where? It was a closed casket and suddenly, he was gone. He never said goodbye, nor did I. Fifty-five years later, every day as I drive to work, I pass his cemetery. I greet him every morning and again, on my return home. To this day, it's still difficult to fathom how this came to be; this part of us, this father who once saved me from drowning in the Mississippi, who met his own fate by succumbing to the very threat he once saved me from. I dedicate my music to you Dad. I'm proud of my work. I'm an older man now. I also became a father with two fine sons; one who bears your name. I'm a musician and I was once a sailor, like you. I'm proud to be part Cherokee as you and your mother were. And although we never said goodbye, I know in some great circle, we'll meet again. 'Cherokee Morning Song' Traditional Cherokee Song My paternal grandmother was Cherokee. She lived in Illinois; we lived in Minnesota. My memories of her are islands of recollections strung together, at best. But the images I have of her are those of a quiet spoken, dark skinned woman whose braided gray hair encircled the crown of her head like that of a tarnished silver halo. She would be up long before her family to make breakfast on a wood stove; a breakfast so large, you scarcely knew where to where to begin. During the day, she'd quietly move about her garden, gathering whatever was ripe and ready for picking; holding the hem of her apron while using it as a hammock to cradle the bounty she'd picked. Her gentle smile belied the hard life she'd lived but her voice was comforting and soft. And her kindness was evident every Christmas when a box of presents would arrive, without fail; all neatly wrapped and bowed with our names affixed to each. I wished I'd known her better as I wished I'd known my father better. I'd have learned much. This song is my only way of thanking her for the many ways she loved and graced us; the grandchildren she seldom saw but always loved. 'Cherokee Morning Song' (Translation: 'I am of the Great Spirit, it is so.') (Lyrics) Words and music based on original tribal song We n' de ya ho We n' de ya ho We n' de ya We n' de ya Ho ho ho ho He ya ho He ya ho Ya ya ya We n' de ya ho We n' de ya ho We n' de ya We n' de ya Ho ho ho ho He ya ho He ya ho Ya ya ya We n' de ya ho We n' de ya ho We n' de ya We n' de ya Ho ho ho ho He ya ho He ya ho Ya ya ya We n' de ya ho We n' de ya ho We n' de ya We n' de ya Ho ho ho ho He ya ho He ya ho Ya ya ya 'People Get Ready' by Curtis Mayfield Ok, so what made me think I could ever do this 1965 Curtis Mayfield composition justice? It's only been covered by the greatest contemporary vocalists of our time. In what parallel universe would I attempt to improve on the efforts of people like Aretha Franklin, Bob Marley, Bruce Springsteen, Rod Stewart, Jeff Beck, John Denver, Phil Collins, Steve Perry, The Chambers Brothers, The Walker Brothers, or The Everly Brothers? The answer is simple. I'm not trying to improve perfection. This is an iconic example of when perfect lyrics meets perfect music. It's been stuck in my head for as long as I can remember and it just doesn't matter what company I choose to keep. It's simply a privilege to pay homage to Curtis Mayfield by performing my rendition of one of the documented top 10 songs of all time. 'People Get Ready' (Lyrics) Written by Curtis Mayfield People get ready there's a train a comin' You don't need no baggage you just get on board All you need is faith to hear the diesels hummin' You don't need no ticket. You just thank the Lord So people get ready for the train to Jordan Pickin' up passengers coast to coast Faith is the key, open the doors and board them There's hope for all among those loved the most There ain't no room for the hopeless sinner Whom would hurt all mankind just to save his own Have pity with those whose chances grow thinner For there's no hiding place against the kingdom's throne So people get ready there's a train a comin' You don't need no baggage you just get on board All you need is faith to hear the diesels hummin' You don't need no ticket. You just thank the Lord There's a train a comin' Just get on board Hear the diesels hummin' Just thank the Lord Hear the diesels hummin' Just thank the Lord There's a train a comin' Get on board Hear the diesels hummin' No ticket needed Thank the Lord 'A Dozen Roses' by J. Anderson I'm a fan of Guillermo Forchino's comic art sculptures; in particular, one entitled "Le Guitariste". This particular piece reminds me of a character who once graced many a stage with me in bands past. "A Dozen Roses" was written with Terry in mind. For him, even the simplest challenges in life became supremely complicated. He would endure any level of effort to solve a problem, oblivious to how simple the real solution really was. If only there were a "Dummy's Guide" to life. He had a hell of a good voice and I always smile and think of him whenever I look at the sculpture and listen to this song. 'A Dozen Roses' (Lyrics) by Jesse Anderson Love should come with a bag of tools and a hard bound book with all the rules. To a guy it ain't natural. Why can't it be plain and factual. But oh no, here it comes again and I just can't hide; and oh no, that queasiness that I feel inside tonight. I stood at her door with my hat in my hand; a dozen roses and a wedding band. Somethin' inside said the time wasn't right. So all I gave her were the flowers that night. And oh no, I'm back at her door and I'm startin' to stress. And oh no, I hope she loves me and she says yes tonight. It seems to me, she takes a little glee in whenever I stumble and fail at finding words to tell her just how much I care and want for us to share every little thing from now through ever-after. So I'm going back down to the heart of the city, where the lights are bright and busy; knock on her door with my hat in my hand; a dozen roses and that wedding band tonight. It seems to me she's takin' excessive glee in the way I'm stumblin' and failin' at findin' words to tell her just how much I care and want for us to share every little thing from now through ever-after. So I'm going back down to the heart of the city where the lights are bright and busy; knock on her door with my hat in my hand; a dozen roses and that wedding band tonight. I'm going back down to the heart of the city where the lights are bright and busy; knock on her door with my hat in my hand; a dozen roses and that wedding band tonight. 'Footprints' by J. Anderson I'd always measured my life by the successes I'd achieved; time spent looking back over my shoulder at the mile marks I'd left behind. ". and footprints only tell me where I've been." After writing that line, I realized footprints, to the optimist, would be an indication of where one was headed. Musically speaking, I'd been in a safe zone, where instrumental music left doors closed to exposing my lyrical expressions. And before I knew it, "Footprints" led me to 'Never Said Goodbye'. The percussion in this song was something I'd previously avoided; after all, there wasn't a single drop of Latin blood coursing through these veins. What business did I have crossing that line of expression? Being Minnesotan, I not only had to ask myself that question, but in the quirkiest of all regional traits, I had to answer it as well. And to my recollection, it must have happened around 4:00 AM, after having a 5 hour energy shot. What the hell. 'Footprints' (Lyrics) by Jesse Anderson Like everything else my plans are getting' sidetracked. Livin' by the paycheck has taken it's toll. Bills pilin' up like traffic on the freeway; the