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"In thirty-five years as a session musician in Nashville, I have recorded with just about every major country artist in the business, but I have never worked with anyone with more energy, out of the box, and such a positive approach as Thea! Besides writing ALL the songs on this CD but one, this gal is ready! It was a joy working with her and all of these great pickers and singers on this project. As you listen to this great CD, notice the depth of her songwriting. It's amazing! Her songs and the blend of these acoustic instruments make a great combination for some good listening. This is Thea's first Nashville CD but I'm sure there will be more to come. She has already said to me that she wants to come back and do a second project. Once again, it was great working with her on this project and I'm looking forward to getting back in the studio with her again." -Bruce Watkins
Thank you: To Father God in Heaven for ALL the blessings in my life. I am dazzled by your grace! To my producer and friend, Bruce Watkins, for believing in me all these years and never letting go of the dream of this project. You are the greatest and I love you dearly! Bil VornDick for taking on this project with this stranger from the woods of the Great Northwest. [And yes, we do play bluegrass up here!!!] To the musicians, Bryan, Mark, Stuart, Adam, Rob, Ron and Scott, you were so generous with your talents, inspiration and creativity on these songs. They are beautiful! You truly are the "A-Team" and I think you should start a band! Dale Ann and Steve, thank you so much for driving down from Kentucky to lend your voices to my songs. You were the icing on the cake and I can't wait to do this again! To Mike, thank you for being my best fan. To my children, thank you for loving your Mom. Genny, thank you for the "faceless voices" in Whiskey Holler. I know I can always count on you for an inspiration. Luke for making me laugh and keeping me on track by your staying on track. Vincent, for always giving me the odd perspective and for appreciating all the music. Julie, for being my good friend. Rick for my first grandbaby. To all my family and friends who have always urged me on, you know who you are. I love you. To my band, Timberland Ridge, for always looking at the possibilities and being the very best you can be. Thank you for working so hard and loving the music. Mom, Dad and brother Gil in their heavenly home, I know you're looking down on this and are smiling. Cromwell ... and Other Roads - Lyrics: 1. Diggin' Ol' Albert's Grave - Mike told me a story about how he helped dig a grave for old Albert 30 or so years ago to help Albert's wife with the cost. 2. Blackberry Wine - To the family in Farmington, Missouri. Thank you for the memories. 3. Whiskey Holler 4. Alice - Alice lived on a ranch up the Hoback Canyon in Teton County, Wyoming. I spent a year riding those mountain trails on a sorrel mare named "Chantilly" and getting to know this precious, old woman. 5. Oh Elijah - I Kings 19:11-13. 6. The Miller's Daughter - A strange, true story and all about forgiveness. 7. The Mustard Seed - I grew up in sunny Southern California and spent many days wandering the foothills of the San Raphael. Matthew 17:20-21 8. Road to Cromwell - Cromwell is a beautiful and misty place near home. This song is about rebirth and is a love story. 9. Santa Ana Wind - When the Santa Ana's blow, everything changes, the air is charged, fires rage or on a clear day you can see forever.
10. Fields of Gold - Written by Sting.
Diggin' ol' Albert's grave in the light of the mornin' Rain comin' down, mud in the hole Diggin' ol' Albert's grave in the light of the mornin' I hope this don't go too slow Cecil took a hammer and a box of nails Boards of cedar from the shed A 5th of whiskey and a heavy heart He made a box for his friend -- And Edith took some scissors and some old goose down She cut up her wedding dress Lined that box and made a soft pillow Tears on the satin where they laid his head Albert used to say "don't you bury me 'neath the willow I don't like the way that ol' tree cries Bury me on the hill underneath the maple I want to watch the leaves when the wind goes by" So we laid him to rest underneath the ol' maple In the Burley valley where the creek goes by And we sang that song about the circle bein' unbroken And see you again in the sweet bye and bye
In the heat of another Midwestern summer's day From the porch hear the whippoorwill sing Out in the yard ol' Silver is grazing He's full of the devil and quick as the wind For another year now the swallow's nest on the back porch Cow's call down from the eastern hill Here I am on the back porch swing again Another year older swingin' here still And the old folks are doin' just fine Livin' out their lives as I'm livin' out mine Mellow and aging like blackberry wine In the cellar and doin' just fine Ben bought a horse at the sale barn the other day A little bay mare with a gentle eye He rides her through the backwoods and grassland Says she may be gentle but how she can fly Julie's turnin' 18 she's found herself a boyfriend They got a lot in common and the country life For Christmas he gave her a little spotted cow dog She's full of the devil but she'll make a good wife And the old folks are doin' just fine Say they may be young, but it will work out in time Mellow and age like blackberry wine In the cellar and doin' just fine The family gets together every Sunday for dinner Sit around the table for an afternoon meal The ladies do the dishes while the men pitch horseshoes I think the ladies get the poor end of the deal But everyone is doin' just fine Livin' out their lives in three quarter time Mellow and aging like blackberry wine In the cellar and doin' just fine
Down in Whiskey Holler where the sun barely shines There's a dry rock creek bed that winds And you gotta be half crazy if you ever want to wander Anywhere at all near Whiskey Holler I was born in Whiskey Holler In an ol' cabin in the pines With my ma and my pa and my older brother And that dry rock creek bed that winds Time moves slow in Whiskey Holler Seems like it hardly moves at all And the smoke hangs thick and sticks to your collar Like an ol' wool hand me down shawl I'm gettin' out of Whiskey Holler I'm gettin' out and I'm never turnin' round I don't ever want to hear those faceless voices Bubblin' up out of that desperate ground
I'd ride up to see Alice when the summertime was high When most of the snow had melted and the meadowland was bright With fields of wildflowers and hawks that glide and fly I'd climb the rocky trails to Alice and her home near the sky We'd spend an afternoon painting the woodshed She'd talk about the life that she'd lead Far away from her mountain home The city life that she had known But now she'd got to know the mountain spring The mountain soul of the mountain king The way the clouds roll in at night And in the morning leave their blanket of white An aging old shepherd that nobody sees Bears in the forest, the wind in the Aspen trees Secrets that live in the heart of the mountain Alice will tell you about them And deep in those crystal clear pools of her eyes I felt like I could see into another time But time didn't matter, time didn't dare And Alice or I didn't care
Elijah went to the mountain As the Lord had asked He stood and waited patiently For the Lord to pass A mighty windstorm came around Shook the earth and tree But the Lord he was not in the wind That stormed around so fiercely After the wind there was a quake But the Lord he was not there And he was not in the raging fire Burning everywhere After the fire there was the sound Of a whisper gently made Elijah listened and covered his face At the entrance of the cave
My name is Mary, I'm the Miller's daughter I turned 18 the first of May I have a son, born last winter On a cold, dark morning - I call him "Gray" The wind blows through these southern mountains sings like a choir through the trees I pray to heaven for my redemption And ask sweet Jesus to give me peace My daddy's life was never easy He did his best to give me bread And momma dyin' on that mornin' Left me my daddy's only thread He came home drunk that crimson morning left the blood stain on the bed He gave me Gray and then he left me A bullet lodged in his head
In the dry dirt hills of California Where the sun burns hot no chance for rain There is a flower that loves the sunlight And seems to praise God's holy name I used to walk those hills of gold A little ways beyond our town Through tangled oak and golden flowers The mustard sweetly standing ground I don't know how I'll carry on My heart is sore, my body weary All of my hope seems to be gone When in my mind I see a vision And there I am in golden fields Walking again down dry dirt pathways With fields of mustard at my heels
The wind cuts over the water, a ghost across the waves The mountain rises to the sky in a watercolor glaze I am no stranger to this place - I know these mossy trees And every burst of sunshine that warms these rain soaked fields There is no place I'd rather be than with you on this road You're every song I've ever loved - each deep and darkened note Like sun that breaks through days of rain and lights each weary face You've broken into this old heart and warmed this empty place The last time I saw Tolson, he was leanin' on his cane Standin' at a corner, waitin' for the light to change He turned round to look at me, whatever it was he said Was lost in the roar of a plane that flew by miles overhead
And the Santa Ana winds were blowin Kickin' up that summer thing By the time I caught my breath He was lost and gone again, gone again... With the Santa Ana wind
A gentleman from Carolina, he stole my heart away With the knowin' in those green eyes and the things he had to say I was 21 and searchin', he was older and a man A cigarette on a Southern drawl, took me where I'd never been Time goes by, time runs out, won't come back again The years that treated me so gracefully had battered him But I hold on to a photograph a time we were younger then Facin' off another day in a Santa Ana wind. You'll remember me when the west wind moves along the fields of barley You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky when we walk in fields of gold So she took her love for to gaze awhile among the fields of barley In his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold See the west wind move like a lover's soul among the fields of barley See her body rise when you kiss her mouth among the fields of gold Many years have passed since those summer days among the fields of barley See the children run as the sun sets down among the fields of gold You'll remember me when the west wind moves among the fields of barley You can tell the sun in his jealous sky how we loved in fields of gold Cromwell ... And Other Roads - Album Information:
Thea Wescott - vocals
Dale Ann Bradley & Steve Gully harmony vocals
Dale Ann Bradley appears courtesy of Compass Records All songs written and composed by Thea Wescott - copyrights with Library of Congress and registered with BMI, Nashville, TN - Fields of Gold written by Sting. Produced by Bruce Watkins.
2nd Engineer Ben Warne. Tracks at Ronnie's Place, Nashville, TN. Vocals and remixed at Mountainside Audio, Nashville, Tn by Bil VornDick & Bruce Watkins. Mastered by Jeff Baggett at Franklin Mastering, Spring Hill, TN. Photography by Merri L. Sutton, Lakebay, WA. Design by Terry Grieves, Digital Toad Graphics, Hendersonville, TN. |