Songs come from all different kinds of places. The ones on our new album come from stories about myself, stories about our band, and stories about friends and family members who are connected to our band. I read an article about a year ago in Psychology Today that said this:
“Stories are about collaboration and connection. They transcend generations, they engage us through emotions, and they connect us to others. Through stories we share passions, sadness, hardships and joys. We share meaning and purpose. Stories are the common ground that allows people to communicate, overcoming our defenses and our differences. Stories allow us to understand ourselves better and to find our commonality with others.”
Recently, I’ve had a handful of folks come up to me at shows and say, “Hey man, I’m diggin (Enter Song Name), what is the story behind it?” So, I thought I’d take a few blogs to explain some of the inspiration behind a few of the songs.
“Fairlane” is a song that was inspired by my Mom and Dad’s love story. In 1972, my Dad bought a 1964 Ford Fairlane for $700 and named it Fred. Fred didn’t have any computerized technology inside of him, and he certainly lacked a few things cosmetically. He went with my Dad to community college in Columbia, and then made his way to a university in the big city of Nashville, TN. In April 1975 my Dad met my Momma and it immediately shook up all of his plans. She was studying education and psychology and my Dad was wanting to be an engineer. In August 1976 they got married in their parents backyard. My mom dropped out of college and they moved to Cookeville, TN to finish my Dad’s engineering degree at Tennessee Tech. Crazy 20 year old kids who thought they were invincible. Their parents didn’t think it was a great idea to get married in the first place, but they did it anyway. They lived in married student housing and to pay their bills, my Mom worked at Shoney’s and my Dad preached on Sundays at a rural congregation in Cookeville. Throughout all their adventures, they had Fred. I spoke of Fred’s cosmetic blemishes, the biggest of which were holes in the rusted out floorboard that you could drop softballs through. When they whizzed down the highway at a top speed of 50mph, you could watch the concrete whizz underneath them. In the winter, cold air flooded the the cabin of old Fred through those same holes. The heater in the car was sub-par, so to keep warm my folks kept a few blankets in the backseat. They used to go on mini-vacations to state parks cause that’s all they could really afford. They lived in Chattanooga for a short while before making their way back to Nashville where my Dad finally got a job as an engineer at the local power company and my Mom finished college so that she could be a teacher. My Mom and dad put 150,000 miles on old Fred, bringing him to a grand total of 200 and some odd thousand miles. Sometime before me or my brother were born they sold Fred for $250. I’d say they got a pretty good deal.
Thanks for the continued support yall.