This week's assignment was kind of fortuitous. A gig last weekend found me within spitting distance of Ayden, the little town in eastern North Carolina where my mother grew up. We'd visit my grandparents on their tobacco farm at least a couple of times a year, every year, when I was growing up, but both my grandparents passed away many years ago, and I haven't had the opportunity or cause to visit the area in a long time. It was really wonderful to set eyes on the old homestead again.
My grandparents were staunch members of the local Southern Free Will Baptist community, and I remember that my grandmother, in particular, really loved the sound of the FWB gospel quartets. In fact, my twin uncles, Melvin and Milton, who both became very prominent leaders in the national FWB church, fronted their own recording quartet, called The Musical Messengers. That's actually one of their album covers in my artwork for the week.
I've long enjoyed those sounds, and they very immediately bring me back to memories of my grandmother's house. So, for this assignment, I thought I'd try to bring that back a bit, in honor of the Worthingtons. I wanted to try to write a song and arrangement in as close as possible to the true style, though I decided to write a more ambiguous, less ecclesiastical lyric, and I knew that I couldn't really sing in that stentorian vocal style, so I didn't try to mimic it too much.
So, once again, it's another week where I've ended up with something that I can't imagine every being able to use for anything, but I really enjoyed the process.
lyrics
When I stumble, slip, or falter
spirit’s light may fade
when the deep well knows no water
ties that bind all frayed
When fair fortune’s waylaid song
is heard so soft and low
Will you tell those old-time stories
And raise my spirit’s glow?
There’s a lost that’s found on bended knee
There’s the blind that can’t be seen
There’s a debt no one can guarantee
That’s forfeit in between
When I tremble at the price so dear
And my ships all run ashore
It’s the tales from hearth and home I hear
That bring me peace once more
As we wander deep cross field and seas
From the shores we once held dear
Have we lost our distant memories
Bedrock disappeared?
When fair fortune’s waylaid song
is heard so soft and low
Will you tell those old-time stories
And raise my spirit’s glow?
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