1. |
The Sun's Slipping By
03:49
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We fell apart in the shadow of a storm moving fast;
The clouds were still drifting when our lives they had passed
From our home where the words and our actions relieved
The burden of living all alone and bereaved.
Shadows are forming
But the sun’s slipping by
Darkness is falling
Even shadows will die
And the ground it was covered with leaves from the trees,
Torn from the branches and lost in the breeze
That blew in from the ocean, foggy and wet,
Obscuring the path that resolved all our debt.
Where our bodies lay dreaming the songs of the dead,
No one would listen to the thoughts in our head.
But the wind was reflecting in the branches above
The songs we were dreaming: the shadows of love.
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2. |
Ragged Little Poser
03:36
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Your cotton dress was something…
It clung to you like one
Who never knew her parents,
But madly loved her son.
You ragged little poser
I loved you long ago
But memories fade and I’m afraid
We’ll never really know
Sons were never mentioned;
We never had a child.
I picked for you a lily,
But a lily that grew wild.
Sunsets fade and falter
Like the color in your hair
The copper now has faded
And I cling to what’s not there
Your cotton dress was something…
My hands upon your hips,
A flower in your hair,
And a lie upon our lips.
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3. |
Lonesome As Could Be
04:13
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The cost was mounting
The coast was near
The price was lonesome as could be
A wallet lifted
The purse strings failed
And silver fell upon the sea
The ships were open
The gaping holds
Held ransoms lonesome as could be
The waves were towering
The tides were strong
As darkness fell upon the sea
Heart rate pounding
Muscles tearing
As I was running towards your door
And when you noticed
The sea was nearing
The waves would crash forever more
And I would never reach the shore
I paid the piper
In semi-quavers
The drones were lonesome as could be
All ears were open
The tune was failing
As notes were falling to the sea
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4. |
Ennerdale Water
04:26
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All the branches have fallen,
The winds have abated,
I’m lonely here thinking of you -
By the rippling water
In the shadow of fell sides,
I’m wondering what’s left to do.
The blush on the bloom
Of an old English rose
The skies growing grey with the tears
The water now flowing
The rivers are filling
The beds where the roses once grew
There’s a path ‘round the water,
Up a cleft in the valley -
At the top there’s a choice to be made.
But the choices are empty
In the pale light of evening
As the faces and memories fade.
At the top of the mountain,
As the stars fill the chasm
That lights up the space before dawn -
And the heart you once mentioned,
There’s an ache and a tension
That pulls me away and I’m gone.
I first heard your footfall
By Ennerdale Water;
A cold rainy day I recall.
The blush on the bloom
Of an old English rose
Climbing a crumbling wall.
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5. |
The Arrow Highway
04:08
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Alone on a bed
With echoes and dust,
The night stretched out before him.
The voices he’d heard,
And the sound of the trucks
Out there on the Arrow Highway.
He got up to leave,
And he shut off the lights –
There was nothing left here for him.
He got in the car
And he turned on the lights –
Headed out on the Arrow Highway
The ghost of a father
The ghost of a son
His haunted head never rested
He’d paid quite a cost
For he’d gambled and lost
On the love of a woman he’d tested
He pulled to the side
And he lit up a smoke,
The yellow lines stretched out before him.
Avoiding the thought
Of the end of the road –
Somewhere on the Arrow Highway.
He stood on a ridge
With the city below
His family there before him
Dead in the ground
Or lost to him now
Somewhere on the Arrow Highway
He sat in the desert,
A gun in his hand,
A bible there before him.
In the cover it read
In a shaky blue hand:
“You’ll find me on the Arrow Highway…”
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6. |
Bert Allen
06:06
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I hired Bert Allen to walk down the flume
That carried the timber to the railhead below
In Felton. He seemed to blend in with the trees:
Tall, red and stocky, sun burnt and slow.
But his work it was poor when he took to the drink.
Twice I had found him sprawled out on the planks.
In the flume, there below him, the logs backing up -
Two warnings I gave him and I never asked thanks.
The third time I fired him and didn't think twice.
There's plenty like him, more willing to work.
Last that I'd heard he was hauling cord wood
From a timber claim down to the Boulder Creek flume.
I was walking the flume and I heard a man shout -
It was Bert, he was sober and madder than hell.
He pointed, then ran towards me, legs pumping hard.
If he caught me I knew I'd end up there, as well.
I'm a small man, a slight man, I had fear in my veins -
As he gained on me curses and threats I could hear.
I grabbed at my pocket and pulled out my gun.
I turned and point blank let that pepper pot fire.
I watched as he staggered, then fell to the ground.
No words, just a groan and I knew he was dead.
I kicked him on over and looked for his eyes,
But all I could see was the dust in his hair.
They buried him quickly and I was absolved.
No kind words or thoughts did I hear for the man.
And his marker looked like an old stump in the ground.
I went once to look and my God how I ran...
The flumes are all empty, these mountains are bare.
The mute stumps are left and the workers all gone.
I still see him sprawled in the dust of the street -
I still hear his curse in the depths of my mind.
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7. |
Lullaby In G
03:39
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I melt with you in the warmth of falling stars,
That tear in two obscuring clouds and rusting bars.
The bars that mark a prison cell that holds a thought -
The dogs that bark, guarding loneliness that brought no peace.
The foreign tongue that broke the silence of the skin;
The songs once sung, waking words and stirring wary winds.
The winds that slip beneath the breath that carries life away
Upon a ship, lost at sea, no time to pray for peace.
The boiling sea, heated from the fallen stars beneath
The bruise to be, upon the skin that slowly, sadly weeps
For silent years, welling up and bursting at the sound
Of empty tears. A lover sleeps beneath the ground in peace.
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8. |
Left In The Cold
05:58
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I missed you on the water,
Even though I was a sailor -
I missed you even more upon the land.
There are moments you can pardon
And some things to never mention,
But there’s one thing that I’ll never understand…
Fire upon the water
And the waves repel the wishes
The wind unwinds and leaves us in the cold
I fell upon your kindness
Like a shadow on the water -
I watched the ripples fade into the shore.
Drowning in the moment
Wasn’t pleasant as was promised,
But there’s one thing that we’ll share forever more…
The rain instead of falling
Was responding to the question;
Mortar mixed with ashes asked the same.
From the moment lying lifeless,
To the seconds left to answer,
There is one thing left for us to try to tame…
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9. |
I Never Spoke Your Name
03:56
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I never met your mother
In that house in Santa Fe.
The road to Albuquerque
Was just a lonely song away.
And there’s little I remember
But the sharp and snowy peaks,
The timeless, tired evenings
And your wind-burned fading cheeks.
A sand storm on the desert
So far from what I’ve known
High up in the mountains
You lay your body down
And I wanted to learn Spanish
So that I could speak with you –
To understand your partings,
To share the ways you knew,
To see you braid your hair
In the early morning sun,
Before the winds could dry
The air, your lips undone.
And I don’t know the number
Of the road to Santa Fe.
And I don’t know the reasons –
The bus that took you away
So far from Albuquerque,
So far from touch, from shame.
I never did learn Spanish,
And I never spoke your name.
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10. |
A Song Full Of Sorrow
04:47
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With the cold winter wearing
All the days and the tearing
At the bark of the trees by the wind -
While my feelings are waning,
And my blood’s slowly draining,
As I sit at the foot of your bed -
I would sing to you gently
A song full of sorrow
But the days are too short for that now
In a cold northern village,
Where my father once married,
And his father lies under the sod -
I once thought you would carry
Our child and we’d tarry
A life-time, like those who have gone.
Two wars and the seasons
Passing by and the reasons
To remain here are bitter and spent
I remained here – I’m bitter and spent
With the stone of the fences
Falling down and my senses,
Like this village, so empty and cold -
Would I never had known you,
I should still ever mourn you,
As I trace out your name on the stone.
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11. |
Too Used To Lonely
04:29
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Staring through a windshield bruised with distance,
Watching raindrops wash the time away.
Fifty years of wandering the left coast -
Fifty years of wondering what to say.
And I never really knew me as I stumbled through the day…
I think I’ve grown to used to lonely
I think I’ve grown to used to lonely
I tried to settle down just west of Portland,
And leave my restless feelings on the road.
But takes more than hanging up the car keys
And that takes more than walking in the rain
Dreaming of the desert – the Mojave from a train…
I ended up too calm to be collected
The Columbia’s water washing my time away.
Fifty years of climbing up the Grapevine -
And fifty years of shutting out the light.
101’s my 66 – the coast range there in sight…
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12. |
The Wind Blows Harsh
03:10
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The wind blows harsh, love -
The wind blows cold.
I cannot stay here
Amongst this dust and mould.
A voice is calling
Across the empty harbor,
And I must listen
Before I leave this shore.
The snow is falling,
The drifts are deep;
But I can’t feel it,
Never in this sleep.
For I am colder
Than this winter’s day,
And I must leave now
For I cannot stay.
Farewell my lover,
Farewell my friend,
For every journey
Must have an end.
And I must give up
These bones and breath.
The wind blows harsh, love,
With the smell of death.
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13. |
||||
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We fell apart in the shadow of a storm moving fast;
The clouds were still drifting when our lives they had passed
From our home where the words and our actions relieved
The burden of living all alone and bereaved.
Shadows are forming
But the sun’s slipping by
Darkness is falling
Even shadows will die
And the ground it was covered with leaves from the trees,
Torn from the branches and lost in the breeze
That blew in from the ocean, foggy and wet,
Obscuring the path that resolved all our debt.
Where our bodies lay dreaming the songs of the dead,
No one would listen to the thoughts in our head.
But the wind was reflecting in the branches above
The songs we were dreaming: the shadows of love.
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14. |
||||
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I never met your mother
In that house in Santa Fe.
The road to Albuquerque
Was just a lonely song away.
And there’s little I remember
But the sharp and snowy peaks,
The timeless, tired evenings
And your wind-burned fading cheeks.
A sand storm on the desert
So far from what I’ve known
High up in the mountains
You lay your body down
And I wanted to learn Spanish
So that I could speak with you –
To understand your partings,
To share the ways you knew,
To see you braid your hair
In the early morning sun,
Before the winds could dry
The air, your lips undone.
And I don’t know the number
Of the road to Santa Fe.
And I don’t know the reasons –
The bus that took you away
So far from Albuquerque,
So far from touch, from shame.
I never did learn Spanish,
And I never spoke your name.
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Jim Powell Boulder Creek, California
I am a songwriter & guitarist working out of my home studio in beautiful Boulder Creek, California. My arrangements use a mix of voice, acoustic and electric guitars, bass and drums, along with the occasional mandolin, bouzouki, or keyboard part.
Jim Powell recommends:
I heard about this album in a random email, and something in the description persuaded me to give it a listen. And I haven't stopped listening yet! Great songs, beautiful voice and a band to match.
go to album
BLUE BOOK
by Lisa Mednick Powell
I found this artist through a compilation on Aldora Britain Records and I really love all three of her albums.
go to album
From an Old Guitar: Rare and Unreleased Recordings
by Dave Alvin
Dave Alvin is one my favorites, and this album is definitely worth a listen.
go to albumIf you like Jim Powell, you may also like:
Rundgren-esque rock with big hooks and a hint of the baroque, recommended for fans of Jon Brion and post-Kill Rock Stars Elliott Smith.
go to album
Stuck in the Aching Again
by Fur Trader
L.A. singer-songwriter Andrew Pelletier goes full on Gene Clark with some woozy effects on this latest EP.
go to album
This Bay-Area based band offer modern indie songs with intertwining harmonies and searching refrains.
go to album
