BEHIND THE SONGS
I wrote the songs on Strange Light while living in an old brick house in Atlanta, but I recorded the entire record in Chicago. Unlike my previous projects, I wanted to go somewhere for an extended time where I could just focus on recording. I found this industrial studio in Bucktown called Engine Studios. The lead producer was a man named Brian Deck. He had just finished Josh Ritter’s Animal Years. But he was most known for his work with Iron and Wine.
This was the first record where I brought in a guy who wasn’t already a friend or previously familiar with my work. At first that was a struggle for me. I was paying a lot for the studio, and I worried about what this A-list producer thought of my singing and writing. But as the work continued, we hit an incredible stride. Brian brought non-singer-songwriter sensibilities to the work, which helped this record expand beyond my previous albums. We used a few musicians from Chicago (Jason Toth on drums and Jim Becker on guitars and banjo), and I brought in some of my old gang, including Tyler Gibbons on electric bass and background vocals. I also brought in my then new friend Todd Sickafoose to play upright and piano and organ. He gave greatly to this record and would become an ongoing collaborator. Sara Watkins agreed to sing background vocals on a few tricks, which was a real honor. I had opened a month of shows for Nickel Creek, so she and I were friends. (I would bring Sara back on Cardboard Boat to sing extensively.)
This was the first record Lex Price contributed to. He is a phenomenal multi-instrumentalist and producer. He played mandolin and mandocello and guitars on the project. This is also the first album to feature horns by Jordan Katz. He of course, would soon become my main collaborator and touring partner.
Strange Light begins with my biggest number, “Hurricane,” and it ends with one of my quieter, sweeter songs, “Angelina.” In between, many of the songs deal with growing up and getting older. Sarah was pregnant with Jackson while we were recording Strange Light, so change was on my mind. “Willis Avenue Bridge” is about a woman thinking back on her childhood, realizing she’s no longer a girl. “High Heels and All” is about preserving the spirit of young love in a more mature relationship. Then again, there are some topical and political songs on the album. “Milwaukee Road” is a train song about a now-defunct rail line. “Halloween Parade” deals with southern racism. “Measure of a Man” is about hypocrisy in American politics, specifically in the Bush administration.
For those of you who come to my shows, you might also be interested to know that those Italian shoes I wear at almost every show were bought in a boutique in Chicago around the corner from Engine Studios. That means that I bought the shoes I still wear while recording Strange Light (almost 10 years ago). If anything speaks more to the quality of Italian shoes, let’s hear it.
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Strange Light
$12.00 – $15.00Recorded in Chicago with Brian Deck (Iron and Wine, Josh Ritter, Counting Crows). This is the album that has Willis Avenue Bridge, Hurricane and Glory. A young Sara Watkins sings backup on a few of these songs.
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LYRICS
Hurricane
Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002
I will stay right with you now. Let the rain come pouring down. Let the rain pour through your walls. I don't care let it fall, let it fall.
No, I won't go down that way. Get out of town they say, they always say. Let's disregard the way they ring those bells, and disregard the television, too. And here is what we'll do:
We'll stay in bed, the water pouring down your lips and legs.
Oh the pouring rain.
It's a hurricane. The rain has got your name, it's got your name.
Glasses tremble, glasses shake. They fall right from your face. They fall like flames.
Blame it on the strange light in the air. Or blame it on the wind caught in your hair.
Oh, it's a hurricane. The rain has got your name. It's got your name.
Oh, it's a twisted game. The wind has caught your name. It's a hurricane.
Where's the wisdom in the wind? And what would blow us down?
Somehow I know. Go ahead and blow our bodies round. Go ahead and try to sink this town.
Go ahead and blow.
It's a hurricane. The rain has got your name. It's a hurricane.
Open season for the soul, but we don't lose our hold on each other.
Takes more than some rain to pass over. Not even a hurricane could unfold
me and you.
I will stay right with you now. Let the rain come pouring down. Let the rain pour through your walls. I don't care let it fall let it fall.
Halloween Parade
Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002
Tired shoes for tired souls,
leather’s cracked, bones are old.
Pass the wine around the porch.
Pass the tombs, pass the torch.
It’s the Halloween Parade,
theres a grin, there’s a grave.
There’s a boy who won’t behave.
It’s the Halloween parade
A hypocrite is on the loose.
Raise the flag, tie the noose.
There’s a case you will not crack
It’s a character attack
It’s the Halloween Parade.
There’s a grin, there’s a grave.
Halloween Parade. Halloween Parade. Halloween Parade.
There’s some things I can’t explain, it’s my brain it’s the rain.
There’s an old man in the road,
leaves the girl, takes the gold.
Now the story’s growing old,
King is killed, we unfold. King is killed we unfold. King is killed we unfold.
Halloween Parade. Halloween Parade. Halloween Parade.
Behind the grin there is a grave, it’s the Halloween parade.
Willis Avenue Bridge
Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002
She’s driving home Sunday morning, with the heat turned up the windows rolled down to the edge. And yesterday snowed for the first time. Now no one’s on the Willis Avenue Bridge.
Used to be a hard merge. Used to be a hard merge.
She’s thinking back on New York City, the first boy she kissed, the first boy that she crossed.
Now everbody’s in their 20s. Look who got married, look who’s lost.
Used to be a heart break, used to be a heartbreak.
And the fall of 100 things: the hint of an opening
Days like this, it’s hard to pull over. Hard to hold all of the memories in your mind.
She tries to readjust the rearview, so no one has to ever fall far behind.
Used to be much harder, she used to be much harder.
And the fall of 100 things: the hint of an opening.
And the fall of 100 things: the hint of an opening.
With all the glass in New York City, it should be harder to hide, not so hard to find your way back home. They can take back all their pity, it’s not a one-way ride nowhere to hold on, no going home, no way to slow down…
Yesterday, snowed for the first time. Now no one’s on the Willis Avenue Bridge.
Oh Lord Come Down
Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002
Walking along a broken road, which side I’m on, it’s hard to know.
Sometimes the wishes that we hold don’t hardly make a sound.
Lord, please come down, oh lord please come down.
What I’d give to wake up slow, nothing to do, no place to go, you in my arms, the light still low
whispering, we’re found.
Lord please come down. Oh lord please come down.
Lord, someone’s crying, someone’s cold, someone’s still walking down some road.
Lord, he’s trying hard to learn what to build and what to burn, when all he wants is to return to some familiar ground.
And singing, Lord please come down. Oh lord please come down…
Sweet Auburn
Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002
Sweet Auburn, straighten a crooked man.
Slow down a traveler. Sweet as tea she pours
Sweet Auburn, I haven’t a chance I’m sure.
Curves like a river bank, makes a church man stray.
Oh sweet Auburn, what to say?
Won’t you look my way? Won’t you turn? Won’t you turn? Oh Sweet Auburn.
This is hard to say, with all of these butterflies,
with all of these strangers, these coffee cups to clear.
Try this on for size, we could just disappear.
We could just settle down some place they talk slow.
Oh sweet auburn, I’ve been low. Won’t you let me know? Won’t you turn? Oh sweet auburn.
Put your hand in mine, I’d pawn off my past for you.
I’d trade all these memories, just to watch you age.
Oh sweet auburn, why won’t you talk to me? Have you even noticed me?
I’m pleading, break me.
My sloe-eyed girl, carried me over board. Carry me further now tell me where to turn.
Oh sweet auburn.
Scraps of You
Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002
It’s not time to take your picture off the wall, it’s only Thursday.
And the way it’s going, it’s not getting in my way.
Maybe it was sadness, not sunlight in your eyes.
Why? And what’d we do?
You know that the obvious is ours. It’s dangerous for a thinking man.
You know how the argument goes down: The stranger in us comes back around.
You’re harder, but you’re fine.
But it’s not time to take the guitar from the case, it’s only Friday.
And maybe all this music wouldn’t make it through your walls.
All I have to rattle has been rattled long before.
Ship the oars and swim to shore it’s true.
You know that the obvious is ours. It’s dangerous for a drinking man.
You know how the sickness goes around: The stranger in us’ll drag you down.
Sounds the same a while. Sounds won’t change a while.
I’d burn the pile of scraps of you. I’m hoping for something to push me out of view.
I’m hoping for something to hold me back from you. It’s true. It’s you, and it’s unkind.
You know that the obvious is ours. It’s dangerous for a broken man.
You know all a lifetime’s ups and downs: The stranger in us comes back around.
You’re better off when you’re lost not found. You’re better off when your falling down.
You’re better off not to make a sound.