#the ballad of sorrow creek | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellshiremisfits · 4 years ago

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The Ballad of Sorrow Creek ~ Chapter 3

(Warnings: Drugs, Mention of drug abuse, Canon Typical violence, mild disassociation)

There are several ways to add insult to injury.

Having a bloody marshal waiting for one in one's room for no discernible reason is injury. The insult is having said marshal be the weird guy from church.

Caleb frowned, leaning against the door frame as the man rose from a chair by the window.

"You must have been having a busy morning, Mr. Quinn," the marshal greeted, and Caleb sneered.

"What d'ye want?"

"Talk."

"About?" Caleb asked, hand resting on his revolver. Something about this man was unsettling, and it wasn't just that he was a marshal.

"A friend asked me to warn you. He fears for your life." The marshal eyed the revolver wearily, before seeking Caleb's gaze. Caleb smirked.

"Y'know, you..."

"Wouldn't be the first marshal you've killed?" the marshal nodded. "I'm aware."

"Is that why yer here? Justice for a fallen brethren? He got in our way and..."

The man raised a hand. "Are you willing to hear me out?"

Another frown. Caleb still wasn't feeling too well, and now he was frankly getting annoyed. "Name a good reason."

The marshal eyed him for a moment as if waiting for something. Then he licked his lips in thought. "Henry Bayshore," he said dryly, and Caleb's hand was on his gun immediately.

He didn't get to shoot. He didn't even know if he'd drawn his revolver. Everything went black before that.

Caleb didn't know how much time had passed when he came to again. Only thing he was fairly certain of was that he was fucking angry. Correction: that was one of two things he was fairly certain of. The other was that he was neatly tied to his own bed.

"Sorry, Quinn," someone said. Miss Josie. She was sitting in the chair next to the bed, knitting as if all was normal. "I trust Marshal Jacobs 'ere wi' his message more than I trust ye wi' yer temper."

Caleb gave her a look of pure outrage at such betrayal, but Miss Josie just twirled a needle menacingly. "Now will ye 'ear the marshal out?" she asked cooly, watching Caleb struggle against his bonds.

With a growl that faded into a groan Caleb finally nodded, glaring over at the marshal. "Spit it out."

The marshal nodded, calmly rolling a cigarette. "My name is Dan Jacobs. I'm a US Marshal over in Lander County..."

"That's in Nevada, innit?" Caleb interrupted. "Yer quite some way from home, Marshal."

Marshal Jacobs nodded. "I got business in Lincoln. And about a week ago I received a message from a friend of mine. Ethan Murdock."

"Never heard that name," Caleb snarled.

"But he has heard of you, Mr. Quinn."

"He and dozens of others. What's yer point?"

"He's worried for your life, Mr. Quinn."

A long, annoyed growl followed, and Caleb rolled his eyes, tugging on the bounds again. "That's all nice an' fuckin' dandy, but..."

"Will you hear me out, Mr. Quinn?"

Caleb glared, but nodded. Miss Josie's needle twirling while her eyes were fixed on his crotch might or might not have had a part in that decision.

"Five years ago I met Ethan Murdock," Marshal Jacobs said. "Not on a friendly basis, though. He had broken into one of Bayshore's offices."

This got Caleb's eyes to sparkle. "I think I'm starting to like this Mr. Murdock." He grinned a toothy grin.

"Oh, you'd get along well. He's a reporter on his own terms, and after his arrest Ethan confidentially told me of evidence of severe foul-play in some of Bayshore's recent business activities. Ethan was determined to bring Bayshore down. I wrote it off as a mad whim, if not vile jealousy or plain slander, but then someone made an attempt on Ethan's life, and his rooms and office were ransacked."

Another nod, this one much more stoically. Caleb was listening intently.

"I don't think it will surprise you that these incidents destroyed the evidence Ethan had. Most of them; otherwise, I would not have believed him at all."

"Take it there wasn't enough left, however?"

The marshal shook his head. "The charges concerning the break-in were dropped. Much to Ethan's dismay, however."

"I get him. Bayshore's been up to something an' arranged for that," Caleb gave an angry twist to his mouth.

"Ethan thought so too. He was forced to keep things low-key from then on, and... and I think this will interest you most; he found out about the planned acquisition of Hellshire just a little too late to inform you. This is why Ethan's so eager to protect you, now that you are back."

Caleb simply groaned and rolled his eyes again. "So, what exactly does this Mr Murdock want to protect me from? Bayshore's dead."

"You've been informed his body was never recovered from Hellshire?" Marshal Jacobs gave Caleb a scrutinizing look. "You have. Look, Ethan thinks Bayshore's gone for good, and so do I. But he had children who are just as bad as he was. And Ethan suspects that Bayshore's successor will want to settle some things."

"Tsk," Caleb shook his head. "I appreciate the concern, but I can very well look after meself."

The marshal and Miss Josie exchanged meaningful glances, and Miss Josie looked coldly at Caleb.

"Tell me what time it is, Quinn."

"...what? Noon, or something..."

"It's quarter past midnight, Quinn," Miss Josie said, picking up a different ball of yarn.

"Quarter past... Oh fuck you." With an exhausted groan Caleb sank deeper into the pillows.

"Look, Quinn, we both know ye would have shot the marshal wi'out second thought. Can't have that, what wi' him bein' here to save yer arse. So when the lass told me ye was all dizzy an' dozy, I put a lil' somethin' in yer coffee. Would have put it in yer whiskey if not fer that."

"And threw out the whole bloody bottle afterwards?" Caleb quirked a brow.

"Desperate times, desperate measures, Quinn. Would have put it on yer tab."

"How are we friends again?" Caleb groaned, "Heh, didn't ya just say I'd have shot him without second thought? What would ya've done if I hadn't keeled over jus' in time?"

"Oh, there been 'nough in that coffee to knock a normal man out before he'd reach them stairs. So I figured ye'd be out cold around the time ye reach fer yer iron." Josie puffed her chest proudly. "An' I been standing behind ye, just in case."

She grinned and Caleb grimaced, muttering several curses. Then he glared at the marshal again. "So, what does this Murdock think will happen?"

"He suspects they'll put Kelly on your trail. He's still alive and still has his gang. And got quite a bone to pick with you."

"The feeling is mutual, y'know," Caleb squirmed a little. "Look, the warning is appreciated, but I can look after meself, unless someone turns out to be some backstabbin' old hen."

Miss Josie smiled cockily. "Can a lass quell yer wrath by cookin' yer favourite later?"

Caleb pondered this. "If ya swear it's not poisoned."

"Swear it on yer cock," Miss Josie singsonged, making Caleb avoid the marshal's surprised gaze, before clearing his throat.

"Aye, that will do." He looked back at the marshal. "Tell me, Marshal, yer a man of the law, what can ya tell me 'bout Kelly's whereabouts?"

Marshal Jacobs licked his lips. "I thought you'd never ask. Last time anyone heard from Mason Kelly and his gang was little more'n a month ago, at the border to California."

"Heh. If Kelly's got any bit o' sense in his head he made off to Canada or Mexico as soon as he heard I'm back."

Miss Josie smiled knowingly at Caleb. "So when do ye expect him to show his face in Glenvale?"

"'Bout next Thursday."

The marshal chuckled at that and rose. And then his face hardened. "Do be careful, Mr. Quinn. It's only our guess at what will be done, but Ethan and I, we're fairly certain that it will be done."

Caleb exhaled in defeat. "Tell Mr. Murdock I'll heed his warning."

A nod. "I will. Good Night, Mr. Quinn." Another nod, this time at Miss Josie. "Miss Josie."

Moments ticked past after the marshal left.

"So," Caleb drawled. "Are ya going to untie me now? Me shoulders are getting sore."

Miss Josie smiled, put her knitting to the side and leaned over to undo the knots. Caleb sat up slowly, rubbing his wrists.

"What, no quips 'bout 'enjoying the view a bit longer'?" he teased, but his face quickly fell upon seeing Miss Josie looking so distressed. "C'mon, Josie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"'Nothing' me fine Irish arse," he muttered. "The Josie McKee I know would've told anyone with such a yarn to go to Hell."

Miss Josie smiled a strained smile. "I almost did, Quinn. But..." She sighed.

"But?"

"Ye wanna know the truth? I'm worried fer ya." Miss Josie shook her head. "An' I don't mean in any 'Ye cannot watch yer own back all the time' thing." Slowly, and so carefully it made Caleb worry, Miss Josie sat down on the edge of the bed. "Listen, Quinn. Ye knows I come in here when ye sleep to see 'bout yer light," she nodded at the candle on the nightstand. "Ye almost burned down me establishment already."

Caleb blew a raspberry. "That was one time."

"Aye. But it's all I got. Me girls too."

"An' it's not even yours."

"Oh, tut." Miss Josie whacked her finger, "I'm keepin' an eye on it and I'm running it. At least till Newport shows his arse in Glenvale again, thank you very much."

This was greeted with an amused huff. "One of these days I'll figure where ya buried him."

"I didn't bury him." Miss Josie took a deep, sorrowful breath, and sought Caleb's eyes. "All joking aside, I'm really worried fer ya." She reached up to tug a strand of hair behind Caleb's ear, gently rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone. Caleb held his breath. There was maybe just one other thing Miss Josie could do to hammer home how dire she deemed the situation.

"Caleb." There it was. "Ye've been crying." Miss Josie shook her head. "I've never seen ye like that, but it scared me. An' ye wouldn't wake up when I tried. Are ye alright?"

Caleb squirmed a little, edging away from Josie. "Am fine," he mumbled. Miss Josie didn't buy it.

"Look at me," she said gently, caressing his cheek again. "I've known ye fer me whole life. I've seen yer best and worst. An' right now I see yer scared out o' yer wits."

Snapping his jaw back into place and biting his lip, Caleb looked away. He wasn't someone to let others on to what he was feeling (unless it was rage), but Miss Josie had always been one of the few people to see right through him. And she was right.

"How d'ya do that, Josie?" he murmured, still not looking at her.

"Known ye me whole life, just said so."

Caleb smiled halfheartedly. "Nightmares, that's all..." Again, Josie didn't buy it. For a moment, Caleb tried to stare her down, without any success. He sighed, looking away. "Ya know them nightmares where ya get so scared ya wake up cryin' only to realize how fuckin' silly yer brain's being? This wasn't one o' those."

Miss Josie shuffled a little closer, laying a gentle hand on his thigh.

"'Twas...," Caleb continued, struggling with finding the right words. "''Twas like I was remembering things, but that don't make sense."

"If ye want to talk 'bout it, I'm here."

Slowly, Caleb let himself fall back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling for a while.

"I was in this... something. Looked Japanese... And there was this lass. Black, weird clothing, like she was runnin' round in her bloomers..." Caleb ran a hand through his hair. "She was scared of me. And... I dunno, I think I tried to tell her I knows who she is. No... I did tell her. But... it was to calm her down, not to... She was so scared. And then there was this... thing...," he wriggled his fingers, "Like some fucking spider the size o' a house. An' it was angry. Like furious. At me. For... I think not killing that woman. I told it to go fuck itself, an'... how I knew what it did to me?"

Miss Josie gave his leg a gentle squeeze.

"Don't make much sense, does it?" Caleb said, forlorn. "But I feel like it happened. And then... something grabbed me, choked me, an'... things crawled under me clothes and...skin... and..." he absentmindedly reached into his shirt, tracing fingers over the new scars. "Then something went right through me chest... this thing's claw or somethin'. An' I knew I was in for something worse than death... but..."

"But?"

"Then this girl picked up me gun... Ya could see she never even held one... I think she wanted to help..."

"What happened?"

Caleb smiled wryly. "Put the spear right through me heart, she did." He patted his chest. "Last thing I heard was her shouting she's sorry, and there was this screech of betrayal and... I just wanted to be back home..."

Caleb bit back a sob, rubbing his arm over his eyes. Miss Josie gently pulled him into a hug and caressed his back while he buried his face against her neck. They sat like that for a while, until Caleb pulled back, taking a ragged, heavy breath.

"Look at me, soakin' yer dress crying me bloody eyes out. What would people think o' me?"

"That ye'd shoot their guts out if they go makin' a funny comment 'bout it."

Caleb gave a sniffling laugh, rubbing his eyes again.

"Prolly would. But... I'm not jokin'. That shite was fuckin' frightening." He pulled up his good leg, resting his head on the knee. "Josie?"

"Hmm?"

"D'ye think that's what happened when I was gone?"

"It doesn't sound real, does it?"

"...No... but..."

"Hey," Josie reached up to Caleb's cheek again, lifting his head to look at her. "All I know is ye was gone fer two years as if the earth opened up and swallowed ye whole. And then ye showed up just as suddenly. I think a lotta things are possible here."

Caleb nodded quietly, falling back into the pillows.

"Will ye let that keep ye down?" Josie smirked and got up.

"Heh, naw. It came fuckin' close, though." Caleb smiled softly, scratching his chest. "I'll need some time to wrap me head 'round it."

Josie nodded gently. "I think ye should try an' rest proper."

Caleb nodded back. "Guess so..." Then he remembered something. "Did any messages come in while I was out?"

"Oh. Aye." Josie took a small envelope from the nightstand and handed it over. "Aaron brought in a telegram fer ye."

With a suspicious glare Caleb inspected the envelope. Good, at least he could still trust Josie not to read his things. He tore the message open, reading.

"Well then," he finally murmured, scratching his head.

"Somethin' amiss, Quinn?"

Caleb looked up. "Nothin'. Just asked an old acquaintance for advice on something."

"Anything I should be worried 'bout?"

"Naw. But I'll be headin' to Omaha in a couple o' days. He wants t' meet with me."

"Yer back to yer ol' tricks, ain't ye?"

Caleb smirked wickedly. "Ya know best it's a good idea t' keep me busy."

Josie smiled back, nudged his shoulder and bid him goodnight.

Caleb turned the message over in his hands, pondering. To say that there was a lot on his mind was putting things mildly. He had planned to not tell anyone about that nightmare, but all things considered he felt... relieved? That Josie had known something was wrong. He knew he would have despised anyone else seeing him cry. But God knows it did frighten him, as nonsensical as that dream had been.

Nevertheless, his hand wandered under his shirt again, tracing the scars. It was impossible to have happened, wasn't it? He'd remember more of... anything that happened in the past two years if that had been the case, right?

He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the far corner, half expecting this thing from his nightmare to manifest from the shadows. It wasn't the relief he might have hoped for when it didn't.

All things considered, he'd have to wait and see about this matter. He focused on the message in his hand again.

Blayne wrote he'd meet Caleb in Omaha to tell him about this Mr. Wallace. And Caleb wondered if he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew.

Downstairs, the saloon was packed.

Miss Josie stood on the gallery, surveying the crowd below as per usual. She always had good judgment when it came to people, and at this hour of the night, being able to pick out the troublemakers was essential.

And tonight there were a few new faces she couldn't say she liked. Something about them set her on edge.

There was this guy in the dark poncho by the piano who tried a little too hard not to let anyone notice that his eyes were continuously flicking over the doors upstairs. And it wasn't 'cause he was deciding whether or not to get it on with one of the girls; Josie was certain about that.

Josie also felt someone's eyes on her the whole time she was in the main room, but couldn't spot the person looking at her. Which was worrisome.

"What's eating ya, Miss Josie?" someone asked next to her, and Miss Josie turned.

"Hey, Charlie. Funny seein' ye here."

"Wanna keep the one eye I got on Quinn, y'know," Charlie grinned, flipping a finger against his eye-patch after adjusting his clothes proper.

"Ye been in the wrong room fer that," Miss Josie grinned. "He's well. Hopefully sleepin' now."

Charlie nodded. "He's got that creepy aura 'round him since he's back."

Josie nodded. Charlie was one of those 'spiritualists', and sometimes he said things that made Miss Josie wonder if he wasn't on to something with all that.

"Don't he always have a 'creepy aura' 'round him?" Miss Josie quipped, and Charlie smiled.

"That's on account o' the things he does. No, I mean... he's got the devil on his back more than ever, it feels like."

"Yer gonna put down yer tarot cards fer him?"

"Not without his permission. Y'know it won't work well if he's not alright with it." Charlie gave Miss Josie a scrutinizing glance.

"What?"

"You're really worried 'bout something, Miss Josie."

Josie just wrinkled her nose. "Oh, take an inspired guess. Yer right, something's off with Quinn. But does that surprise ye? He's been gone fer two bloody years, an' now he shows up an' has no mem'ries of it whatsoever."

A nod. "Y'know how some folks say he jus' buggered off to New York or San Francisco for morphine or opium or something? Wonder what they'd be sayin' now."

"You go and ask 'em, Charlie; ye shoot three of 'em."

"Eh, don't think they'll be talkin' to me after that..."

Josie chuckled, and turned her attention to the crowd below again.

"Charlie?" she hushed.

"Hmm?"

"I need ye to keep yer eye on that bloke in the dark poncho by the piano."

"What he do?"

Josie explained, and Charlie furrowed his brows.

"Think he's after Quinn?"

"Would it surprise ye?" Josie drummed her fingers on the banister. "How many people got a bone t'pick with'im?"

"Enough to empty a fuckin' graveyard. Alright, I'll stay on his heels."

Nodding in thanks, Josie headed down to the bar. The night was still young.

Upstairs, Caleb tossed and turned in his bed, trying to get comfortable in at least the slightest bit and failing miserably. Maybe it was remembering that nightmare and trying to make sense of it; maybe it was something different, but something had set him on edge. Rather groggily he hobbled out of bed, checked the door and the windows, and finally reached for his revolver. Still loaded, all good to go.

With the weapon placed on the nightstand, Caleb laid back down, blowing out the candles. He had to focus on something else. Anything. His mind was a mess, and whatever Josie had put in his coffee still lingered in his system.

Yet he tried in vain. There wasn't much to think about when it came to this Mr. Wallace. He could always ask at the Post Office; maybe he should have done that to begin with. Did they have a marshal in Glenvale again? He had somehow managed not to check for it this entire time. If they had, maybe he could ask there, too, before heading to Omaha.

Though, maybe he shouldn't do any of that. Emmett Blayne wasn't a man of many words, and when someone like that asks you to meet him to discuss a matter, something's deeply amiss.

The other problem was Marshal Jacobs' warning, though that was the smaller one. If someone wanted to pick a bone with him, Caleb would be ready. Bayshore and his ilk weren't as clever as they thought, so there was a likely advantage. At least that problem was going somewhere.

With an annoyed grunt, Caleb turned over again, wincing briefly as pain shot up his leg. He's really ought to stop it with the sudden movements in bed. He grunted again and closed his eyes, nagging himself to get some sleep.

That was when he felt the cold breeze against his cheek and heard a window rattle.

His eyes shot open and he found himself outside an odd building, snow falling around him.

Caleb blinked, once, twice, before rubbing his eyes. He looked down at himself. He was fully dressed, his overcoat heavy with snow and the Redeemer in his hands. This was a dream, wasn't it? Sure, he could feel the breeze against his skin and the cold biting into his lungs with every breath, but ... This had to be a dream. Well, at least he had fallen asleep.

He looked around. And his brows furrowed.

He was standing at the open doors to a building unlike any he had ever seen before. Next to him stood some massive metal boxes he figured were meant for trash, at least if he interpreted the odd bags next to them correctly. Something in him wanted to investigate the material, but something else, something stronger, urged him on to do what he came here for.

No. Not 'came' here for. Was brought here for.

He stepped into the building, an unreal, flickering light illuminating narrow, tiled corridors, crammed with unadorned beds and wheelchairs. Was this some odd kind of hospital? He bent down to pick up something from the ground. A folder. Seems his hunch was right, this was a hospital, but...

His eyes fell on the date in the files. That couldn't be right...

Something made a bang down the corridor to the left, and he dropped the file, turning, half-curious as to what had caused that sound, half... taken over by an odd hunting instinct he'd never felt before when tracking down a mark. That had always just been business. This was like… a need.

Windows rattled in the cold air as he hobbled steadily along the empty halls; broken, loose tiles clicking under his boots. There was no one in sight as he came to stop at an odd contraption, an engine of sorts. Caleb wanted to reach out to touch it; to inspect it, but it was like his hands were glued to his gun.

Then he caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. So there was someone here, trying haphazardly to hide themself behind the dirty bed in the corner. Caleb wanted to prompt the person to come out, but his tongue disobeyed him. Instead, he stepped forward, eager to bring whoever was there to the ground.

A part of himself wondered why.

He lunged forward, taking the young man in hiding by surprise and slashing at his side with the gun's bayonet. The young man gasped out in pain, stumbling forward.

Caleb blinked, shocked. The guy couldn't be older than thirty, and by all means—as outlandish as his clothes looked—he was some sort of bank or post office clerk or something, maybe an accountant. Not really the kind of guy to have a bounty on his head.

What was going on?

The man took off.

Something urged Caleb on to give chase, and his feet seemed to move on their own, heading after the young man. Fingers twitching, Caleb raised his gun, and wanted to slap himself for it. There was no clear shot to be made here, and what had that guy done to begin with? Something told Caleb he had to hunt and... sacrifice the... meat...?

Caleb hesitated.

What sort of fuckin' shite was that?

He shook his head and, with all the willpower he could muster, lowered the gun just as the young man ducked into a doorway. Something roared in Caleb's ears, something angry.

And then there was another sound. A horn of some sort, and the roar grew angrier. Again his feet moved on their own, and he turned a corner. There was someone in front of him, and the sign made Caleb as angry as the roar in his ears did.

Bayshore.

No. Wait.

That was impossible, he told himself. And blinked. Bayshore's form shifted, flickered, and changed into a young woman, a really nice-looking one at that, with bare, tattooed arms and wearing next to nothing. Still the voice in Caleb's head tried to tell him that that was Bayshore.

What the fuck was going on?

Caleb edged closer to her, his hands raising his weapon on their own again. He tried to fight it; he wanted answers, not blood. The woman just stood and stared at him until he was maybe one or two steps away. Then she grabbed at something leaning against the wall, pulling it down, and Caleb felt a hard hit against his head.

He staggered and saw the woman run the other way through blurred vision. Some kind of alarm rang out, and he tried to steady himself, looking around, when he felt four sharp stings in his neck. He lost balance again and sank to his knees.

He couldn't breath.

The gun dropped from his hands, and he dug his fingers into his throat as if trying to pry something out of it.

Something was choking him.

He coughed, tried to cry out; but only a rasping gasp escaped his mouth. And then the lights around him grew darker.

For a moment he was certain he was losing consciousness, but the angry roar in his head made him realize that couldn't be the case.

This something was angry. Disappointed in him; in his performance. Dismayed at his disobedience. Displeased with his failure.

A dark, heavy fog rolled in, surrounding Caleb, engulfing him.

...No...

And the world around him twisted; the shadows grew, spider-like tendrils bearing down on him, intent on tearing him apart and worse...

He woke with a choked gasp.

Rain drummed against the windows, running down the glass in thick drops, and Caleb laid on the floor, wrapped in his blanket with a horrible pain in his head. Sitting up carefully, he reached for his forehead, and hissed in pain as his fingers touched a bloody spot. The blood on the nightstand explained the rest.

That was going to be a headache for a while.

Caleb gave himself a quick check to see if the wound was worse than it looked, and finding that he was otherwise fine—no cuts or anything on his throat—he pulled himself onto the bed again. He'd still have the doc take a look at his head. Better safe than sorry.

He waited for a moment to see if anyone would come to check on him, and let out a soft sigh when that wasn't the case. 'Twas likely too early in the morning. The rain made it impossible to tell, and Caleb had forgotten to wind up his pocketwatch the night before.

With another sigh, he slowly laid back down.

He'd had a lot of weird dreams in the past, but this one... Something about it... scared him. The place; the people; the pain... and again... that ungodly, otherworldly spider thing.

#the ballad of sorrow creek #seán's shenanigans

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devilscreekballad · 3 years ago

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I’m at a bit of a dilemma and have been for a while.

Now, you see, originally the game was a fanfic titled ‘The Ballad of Sorrow’s Creek’, and I changed it for the game, unaware that ‘devil’s creek’, more precisely ‘the battle for devil’s creek’, is an actual thing from just a year before the game takes place. (That’s what I get for only checking for books of the same title, but not for actual places)

So, due to that... should I change the name or make a disclaimer at the start of the game, that this game has nothing to do with the actual battle?

#choice of games #hosted games #interactive fiction #the ballad of devil's creek #baodc #BaoDC development

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sinceileftyoublog · 3 years ago

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Pitchfork Music Festival 2021 Preview: 15 Can’t-miss Acts

black midi; Photo by YIS KID

BY JORDAN MAINZER

While yours truly won’t be attending Pitchfork Music Festival this year, SILY contributor Daniel Palella will be covering the actual fest. If I was attending, though, these would be the acts I’d make sure to see. 5 from each day, no overlaps, so you could conceivably see everyone listed.

FRIDAY

Armand Hammer, 1:00 PM, Green Stage

Earlier this year, New York hip hop duo Armand Hammer released their 5th album Haram (BackwoodzStudioz) in collaboration with on-fire producer The Alchemist. It was the duo’s (ELUCID and Billy Woods) first time working with a singular producer on a record (though Earl Sweatshirt produced a track), and likewise, The Alchemist actually tailored his beats towards the two MCs. Haram is the exact kind of hip hop that succeeds early in the day at a festival, verbose and complex rhymes over languid, cloudy, sample-heavy beats, when attendees are more likely to want to sit and listen than dance. And you’re going to want to listen to Armand Hammer, whose MCs’ experiential words frame the eerie hues of the production. “Dreams is dangerous, linger like angel dust,” Woods raps on opener “Sir Benni Miles”, never looking back as he and Elucid’s stream-of-consciousness rhymes cover everything from colonization to Black bodily autonomy and the dangers of satisfaction disguised as optimism. (“We let BLM be the new FUBU,” raps Quelle Chris on “Chicharrones”; “Iridescent blackness / Is this performative or praxis?” ponders Woods on “Black Sunlight”.) There are moments of levity on Haram, like KAYANA’s vocal turn on “Black Sunlight” and the “what the hell sound is this?” type sampling that dominates warped, looped tracks like “Peppertree” and “Indian Summer”, built around sounds of horns and twirling flute lines. For the most part, Haram is an album of empathetic realism. “Hurt people hurt people,” raps Elucid on “Falling Out of the Sky”, a stunning encapsulation of Armand Hammer’s world where humanism exists side-by-side with traumatic death and feelings of revenge.

You can also catch Armand Hammer doing a live set on the Vans Channel 66 livestream at 12 PM on Saturday.

Dogleg, 1:45 PM, Red Stage

It feels like we’ve been waiting years to see this set, and actually, we have! The four-piece punk band from Michigan was supposed to play last year’s cancelled fest in support of their searing debut Melee (Triple Crown), and a year-plus of pent up energy is sure to make songs like “Bueno”, “Fox”, and “Kawasaki Backflip” all the more raging. Remember: This is a band whose reputation was solidified live before they were signed to Triple Crown and released their breakout album. Seeing them is the closest thing to a no-brainer that this year’s lineup offers.

Revisit our interview with Dogleg from last year, and catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Subterranean with fellow Pitchfork performer Oso Oso and Retirement Party.

Hop Along, 3:20 PM, Red Stage

Though lead singer Frances Quinlan released a very good solo album last year, it’s been three years since their incredible band Hop Along dropped an album and two years since they’ve toured. 2018′s Bark Your Head Off, Dog (Saddle Creek), one of our favorite albums of that year, should comprise the majority of their setlist, but maybe they have some new songs?

Catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Metro with Varsity and Slow Mass.

black midi, 4:15 PM, Green Stage

The band who had the finest debut of 2019 and gave the best set of that year at Pitchfork is back. Cavalcade (Rough Trade) is black midi’s sophomore album, methodical in its approach in contrast with the improvisational absurdism of Schlagenheim. Stop-start, violin-laden lead single and album opener “John L”, a song about a cult leader whose members turn on him, is as good a summary as ever of the dark, funky eclecticism of black midi, who on Cavalcade saw band members leave and new ones enter, their ever shapeshifting sound the only consistent thing about them. A song like the jazzy “Diamond Stuff” is likely impossible to replicate live--its credits list everything from 19th century instruments to household kitchen items used for percussion--but is key to experiencing their instrumental adventurousness. On two-and-a-half-minute barn burner “Hogwash and Balderdash,” they for the first time fully lean into their fried Primus influences, telling a tale of two escaped prisoners, “two chickens from the pen.” At the same time, this band is still black midi, with moments that call back to Schlagenheim, the churning, metallic power chords via jittery, slapping funk of “Chondromalacia Patella” representative of their quintessential tempo changes. And as on songs like Schlagenheim’s “Western”, black midi find room for beauty here, too, empathizing with the pains of Marlene Dietrich on a bossa nova tune named after her, Geordie Greep’s unmistakable warble cooing sorrowful lines like, “Fills the hall tight / And pulls at our hearts / And puts in her place / The girl she once was.” Expect to hear plenty from Cavalcade but also some new songs; after all, this is a band that road tests and experiments with material before recording it.

Catch them doing a 2 PM DJ set on Vans Channel 66 on Saturday and at an aftershow on Monday at Sleeping Village.

Yaeji, 7:45 PM, Blue Stage

What We Drew (XL), the debut mixtape from Brooklyn-based DJ Yaeji, was one of many dance records that came out after lockdown that we all wished we could experience in a crowd as opposed to at home alone. Now's our chance to bask in all of its glory under a setting sun. Maybe she’ll spin her masterful remix of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t Start Now” from the Club Future Nostalgia remix album, or her 2021 single “PAC-TIVE”, her and DiAN’s collaboration with Pac-Man company Namco.

Angel Olsen; Photo by Dana Trippe

SATURDAY

Bartees Strange, 1:45 PM, Red Stage

One of our favorite albums of last year was Live Forever (Memory Music), the debut from singer-songwriter and The National fanatic Bartees Strange, one that contributor Lauren Lederman called “a declaration of an artist’s arrival.” He’s certainly past arrived when you take into account his busy 2021, releasing a new song with Lorenzo Wolff and offering his remix services to a number of artists, including illuminati hotties and fellow Pitchfork performer (and tour mate) Phoebe Bridgers. Expect to hear lots of Live Forever during his Pitchfork set, one of many sets at the fest featuring exciting young guitar-based (!) bands.

Catch him at a free (!!) aftershow on Monday at Empty Bottle with Ganser.

Faye Webster, 4:00 PM, Blue Stage

Since we previewed Faye Webster’s Noonchorus livestream in October, she’s released the long-awaited follow-up to Atlanta Millionaires Club, the cheekily titled I Know I’m Funny haha (Secretly Canadian). At that time, she had dropped “Better Distractions”, “In A Good Way”, and “Both All The Time”, and the rest of the album more than follows the promise of these three dreamy country, folk rock, and R&B-inspired tunes. Webster continues to be a master of tone and mood, lovelorn on “Sometimes”, sarcastic on the title track, and head-in-the-clouds on “A Dream with a Baseball Player”. All the while, she and her backing band provide stellar, languorous instrumentation, keys and slide guitar on the bossa nova “Kind Of”, her overdriven guitar sludge on “Cheers”, cinematic strings on the melancholic “A Stranger”, stark acoustic guitar on heartbreaking closer “Half of Me”. And the ultimate irony of Webster’s whip-smart lyricism is that a line like, “And today I get upset over this song that I heard / And I guess was just upset because why didn't I think of it first,” is that I can guarantee a million songwriters feel the same way about her music, timely in context and timeless in sound and feeling.

Catch her at an aftershow on Saturday at Sleeping Village with Danger Incorporated.

Georgia Anne Muldrow, 5:15 PM, Blue Stage

The queen of beats takes the stage during the hottest part of the day, perfect for some sweaty dancing. VWETO III (FORESEEN + Epistrophik Peach Sound), the third album in Muldrow’s beats record series, was put together with “calls to action” in mind, each single leading up to the album’s release to be paired with crowdsourced submissions via Instagram from singers, visual artists, dancers, and turntablists. Moreover, many of the album’s tracks are inspired by very specific eras of Black music, from Boom Bap and G-funk to free jazz, and through it all, Muldrow provides a platform for musical education just as much as funky earworms.

Revisit our interview with Muldrow from earlier this year.

Angel Olsen, 7:25 PM, Red Stage

It’s been a busy past two years for Angel Olsen. She revealed Whole New Mess (Jagjaguwar) in August 2020, stripped down arrangements of many of the songs on 2019′s amazing All Mirrors. In May, she came out with a box set called Song of the Lark and Other Far Memories (Jagjaguwar), which contained both All Mirrors and Whole New Mess and a bonus LP of remixes, covers, alternate takes, and bonus tracks. She shortly and out of nowhere dropped a song of the year candidate in old school country rock high and lonesome Sharon Van Etten duet “Like I Used To”. And just last month, she released Aisles, an 80′s covers EP out on her Jagjaguwar imprint somethingscosmic. She turns Laura Branigan’s disco jam “Gloria” and Men Without Hats’ “Safety Dance” into woozy, echoing, slowed-down beds of synth haze and echoing drum machine. On Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark’s “If You Leave”, her voice occupies different registers between the soft high notes of the bridge and autotuned solemnity of the chorus. Sure, other covers are more recognizable in their tempo and arrangement, like Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell ballad “Eyes Without a Face” and Alphaville’s “Forever Young”, but Aisles is exemplary of Olsen’s ability to not just reinvent herself but classics.

At Pitchfork, I’d bet on a set heavy on All Mirrors and Whole New Mess, but as with the unexpectedness of Aisles, you never know!

St. Vincent, 8:30 PM, Green Stage

Annie Clark again consciously shifts personas and eras with her new St. Vincent album Daddy’s Home (Loma Vista), inspired by 70′s funk rock and guitar-driven psychedelia. While much of the album’s rollout centered around its backstory--Clark’s father’s time in prison for white collar crimes--the album is a thoughtful treatise on honesty and identity, the first St. Vincent album to really stare Clark’s life in the face.

Many of its songs saw their live debut during a Moment House stream, which we previewed last month.

The Weather Station; Photo by Jeff Bierk

SUNDAY

Tomberlin, 1:00 PM, Green Stage

While the LA-via-Louisville singer-songwriter hasn’t yet offered a proper follow-up LP to her 2018 debut At Weddings, she did last year release an EP called Projections (Saddle Creek), which expands upon At Weddings’ shadowy palate. Songs like “Hours” and “Wasted” are comparatively clattering and up-tempo. Yet, all four of the original tracks are increasingly self-reflexive, Tomberlin exploring and redefining herself on her terms, whether singing about love or queerness, all while maintaining her sense of humor. (“When you go you take the sun and all my flowers die / So I wait by the window and write some shit / And hope that you'll reply,” she shrugs over acoustic strums and wincing electric guitars.) The album ends with a stark grey cover of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone’s “Natural Light”; Tomberlin finds a kindred spirit in the maudlin musings of Owen Ashworth.

Get there early on Sunday to hear select tracks from At Weddings and Projections but also likely some new songs.

oso oso, 2:45 PM, Blue Stage

Basking in the Glow (Triple Crown), the third album from Long Beach singer-songwriter Jade Lilitri as Oso Oso, was one of our favorite records of 2019, and we’d relish the opportunity to see them performed to a crowd in the sun. Expect to hear lots of it; hopefully we’re treated to new oso oso material some time soon.

Catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Subterranean with fellow Pitchfork performer Dogleg and Retirement Party.

The Weather Station, 4:00 PM, Blue Stage

The Toronto band led by singer-songwriter Tamara Lindeman released one of the best albums of the year back in February with Ignorance (Fat Possum), songs inspired by climate change-addled anxiety. While the record is filled with affecting, reflective lines about loss and trying to find happiness in the face of dread, in a live setting, I imagine the instrumentation will be a highlight, from the fluttering tension of “Robber” to the glistening disco of “Parking Lot”.

Revisit our preview of their Pitchfork Instagram performance from earlier this year. Catch them at an aftershow on Friday at Schubas with Ulna.

Danny Brown, 6:15 PM, Green Stage

The Detroit rapper’s last full-length record was the Q-Tip executive produced uknowhatimsayin¿ (Warp), though he’s popped up a few times since then, on remixes, a Brockhampton album, and TV62, a Bruiser Brigade Records compilation from earlier this year. (He’s also claimed in Twitch streams that his new album Quaranta is almost done.) His sets--especially Pitchfork sets--are always high-energy, as he’s got so many classic albums and tracks under his belt at this point, so expect to hear a mix of those.

Erykah Badu, 8:30 PM, Green Stage

What more can I say? This is the headliner Pitchfork has been trying to get for years, responsible for some of the greatest neo soul albums of all time. There’s not much else to say about Erykah Badu other than she’s the number one must-see at the festival.

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whatnotmemes · 5 years ago

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--------------------NICK CAVE AND THE BAD SEEDS ‘MURDER BALLADS’ SENTENCE STARTERS content warning for violence, murder, language, etc. change as needed.

SONG OF JOY “Allow me to impose on you. I have no place to stay.” “I had no idea what happiness a little love could bring.” “All things move towards their end.” “She grew so sad and lonely.” “Ah, I see sir, that I have your attention!” “How often have I asked that question?” “They were quiet as a mouse. There was no laughter in the house.” “She'd been stabbed repeatedly and stuffed into a sleeping bag.” “Someone's taken four innocent lives.” “They never caught the man. He's still on the loose. It seems he has done many, many more.” “The wind round here gets wicked cold.” “I've left my home. I drift from land to land.” “Do you reckon me a friend?”

STAGGER LEE “Never ever come back no more, ____.” “Mr Motherfucker, you know who I am?” “I don't give a good goddamn.” “I've heard your name down the way and I kick motherfucking asses like you every day.” “Those were the last words that the barkeep said ‘cause ____ put four holes in his motherfucking head.” “Just count the holes in the motherfucker’s head!” “You ain't look like you scored in quite a time.” “You'll have to be gone before my man ____ comes in.” “You better get down on your knees.”

HENRY LEE “Stay all night with me.” “You won't find a girl in this damn world that will compare with me.” “The wind did howl and the wind did blow.” “The girl I have in that merry green land, I love far better than thee.” “With a little pen-knife held in her hand, she plugged him through and through.” “Come take him by his feet.” “Throw him in this deep, deep well.” “Lie there, ____, till the flesh drops from your bones.” “The girl you have in that merry green land can wait forever for you to come home.”

LOVELY CREATURE “There she stands, this lovely creature.” "I asked would she walk with me a while.” “I’ll walk with you a while.” “At night the deserts writhed with diabolical things.” “The wind lashed and it whipped me.” “When I got home, my creature was no longer with me.” “Somewhere she lies, this lovely creature, beneath the slow drifting sands.”

WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROW “They call me ____ but my name is ____.” “Why they call me it, I do not know.” “From the first day I saw her, I knew she was the one.” “Her lips were the color of the roses that grew down the river, all bloody and wild.” “My trembling subsided in his sure embrace.” “He wiped at the tears that ran down my face.” “She was more beautiful than any woman I've seen.” “Do you know where the wild roses grow?” “Give me your loss and your sorrow.” “The last thing I heard was a muttered word as he knelt above me with a rock in his fist.” “All beauty must die.”

THE CURSE OF MILLHAVEN “I live in a town called ____ and it's small and it's mean and it's cold.” “If you come around just as the sun goes down, you can watch the whole thing turn to gold.” “It's around about then that I used to go a-roaming.” “All God's children, they all gotta die.” “My mama often told me that we all got to die.” “They found him the next week up in One Mile Creek.” “We all had to watch as he buried her.” “Our little town fell into a state of shock.” “A lot of people were saying things that made little sense.” “Foul play can really get a small town going.” “Twenty cops burst through my door without even phoning.” “I've struck horror in the heart of this town.” “Since I was no bigger than a weevil, they've been saying I was evil.” “I'm a wicked young lady, but I've been trying hard lately.” “Aw, fuck it, I'm a monster, I admit it!” “They're underneath the house where I do quite a bit of stowing.” “That was the biggest shit-fight this country's ever seen.” “I was laughing when they took me away.” “It ain't such a bad old place to have a home in.” “There's so much more I could have done if they'd let me!" “I'm happy as a lark now, and everything is fine.”

THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS “They found Mary Bellows cuffed to the bed with a rag in her mouth and a bullet in her head.” “She'd grown up hungry, she'd grown up poor.” “She wanted to see the deep blue sea.” “She checked into a cheap little place.” “I’m a good girl, sir. I couldn’t possibly permit you in.” “In hope and loneliness she crossed the floor, and undid the latch on her front door.” “Mothers, keep your girls at home.” “Tell them this world is full of danger and to shun the company of strangers.”

CROW JANE “Horrors in her head that her tongue dare not name.” “She lives alone by the river.” “The company closed down the mine.” “Seems you’ve remembered how to sleep.” “I asked that girl which road she was taking. Said she was walking the road of hate.” “They've followed you right back to your gate.”

O’MALLEY’S BAR “I've been known to be quite handsome in a certain angle and in certain light.” “You wouldn’t be the first.” “My hand decided that the time was nigh.” “When I shot him, I was so handsome.” “I bear no grudge against you.” “I am the man for which no God waits but for which the whole world yearns.” “I'm marked by darkness and by blood and by a thousand powder-burns.” “You know those fish with the swollen lips that clean the ocean floor?” “Amongst the townfolk she was a bit of a joke but she pulled the best beer in town.” “I shot that motherfucker down.” “I have no free will!” “If I have no free will then how can I be morally culpable, I wonder.” “I've lived in this town for thirty years- to no one I am a stranger.” “I want to introduce myself and I am glad that all you came.” “I leapt upon the bar and then I shouted out my name.” “With an ashtray as big as a fucking really big brick, I split his skull in half.” “The light in there was blinding full of God and ghosts of truth.” “The remorse I felt, remorse I had, it clung to everything.” “Did you know I lived in your street?” “Drop your weapons and come out with your hands held in the air.” “I had one long hard think about dying.” “There must have been fifty cops out there.”

DEATH IS NOT THE END “When you’re sad and when you’re lonely and you haven’t got a friend, just remember that death is not the end.” “Remember that death is not the end.” “When you’re standing at the crossroads that you cannot comprehend, just remember that death is not the end.” “The bright light of salvation shines in dark and empty skies.” “When the cities are on fire with the burning flesh of men, just remember that death is not the end.”

#rp meme #ask meme #music meme #music rp #angst rp #angst meme #horror meme #horror rp #writing prompt #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #drabble prompts #nick cave meme #halloween meme #roleplay meme #roleplay

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sublimerhymes · 5 years ago

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The Ballad of the Drover by Henry Lawson

Across the stony ridges, Across the rolling plain, Young Harry Dale, the drover, Comes riding home again. And well his stock-horse bears him, And light of heart is he, And stoutly his old pack-horse Is trotting by his knee. Up Queensland way with cattle He travelled regions vast; And many months have vanished Since home-folk saw him last. He hums a song of someone He hopes to marry soon; And hobble-chains and camp-ware Keep jingling to the tune. Beyond the hazy dado Against the lower skies And yon blue line of ranges The homestead station lies. And thitherward the drover Jogs through the lazy noon, While hobble-chains and camp-ware Are jingling to a tune. An hour has filled the heavens With storm-clouds inky black; At times the lightning trickles Around the drover's track; But Harry pushes onward, His horses' strength he tries, In hope to reach the river Before the flood shall rise. The thunder from above him Goes rolling o'er the plain; And down on thirsty pastures In torrents falls the rain. And every creek and gully Sends forth its little flood, Till the river runs a banker, All stained with yellow mud. Now Harry speaks to Rover, The best dog on the plains, And to his hardy horses, And strokes their shaggy manes; `We've breasted bigger rivers When floods were at their height Nor shall this gutter stop us From getting home to-night!' The thunder growls a warning, The ghastly lightnings gleam, As the drover turns his horses To swim the fatal stream. But, oh! the flood runs stronger Than e'er it ran before; The saddle-horse is failing, And only half-way o'er! When flashes next the lightning, The flood's grey breast is blank, And a cattle dog and pack-horse Are struggling up the bank. But in the lonely homestead The girl will wait in vain -- He'll never pass the stations In charge of stock again. The faithful dog a moment Sits panting on the bank, And then swims through the current To where his master sank. And round and round in circles He fights with failing strength, Till, borne down by the waters, The old dog sinks at length. Across the flooded lowlands And slopes of sodden loam The pack-horse struggles onward, To take dumb tidings home. And mud-stained, wet, and weary, Through ranges dark goes he; While hobble-chains and tinware Are sounding eerily. . . . . . The floods are in the ocean, The stream is clear again, And now a verdant carpet Is stretched across the plain. But someone's eyes are saddened, And someone's heart still bleeds In sorrow for the drover Who sleeps among the reeds.

#henry lawson #australian poetry #poem #poetry #rhyme

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meltingpenguins · 4 years ago

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I absolutely agree. I still need to learn to curate things better (I’m a little... confrontational... at times...)

Oh, if you or anyone wants to check out the fic, it’s ‘The Ballad of Sorrow Creek’ on ao3

I have a tendency to run into bad bits of a fandom. And to be honest, I DID find some of the nicest, funniest and most creative people in the fandom due to Deathslinger, too. So it does even out in a way.

That’s a whole mood. I am very lucky I met some super cool people from DbD. I made some good friends writing fic, and I also blocked at least a third of the fandom for no personal reason at all, just to curate my experience in the tags as the function is meant to be used. It’s a real mixed bag tho, for sure, but I am very happy for the positives. I think it’s more that the bad bits of fandom have a real tendency to run into you/people. Thankfully they aren’t the only ones! And I rather enjoy Caleb myself. He and Legion are the only killers that really don’t fit into the three major killer categories of feral, victim, or serial killer, which makes them super fun to experiment with writing. ^u^

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americanahighways · 4 years ago

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photos by Jesse Faatz

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Billy Strings wrapped up the 9-date “Streaming Strings” tour this past Sunday and it put a feather in the cap of what was a highly memorable run of shows through the heart of Nashville. These last three shows began with two nights at the Exit/Inn, before culminating with a final show at 3rd and Lindsley.

Over the course of the run, which was presented by Rounder Records, the band performed over 150 songs, teased dozens more, and without question brought a huge helping of joy to live music starved fans. I also think they schooled the music community on how effective and rewarding these streaming shows can be for everyone involved. As I mentioned in part one, I’ve never really bought into the streaming phenomenon. But after this nine show run, I just might be up for more. Were there things I still dislike about the process? Sure. I missed talking with other fans. I missed the excitement of the house lights going down., and perhaps most of all, I missed the energy of the crowd, and how a band feeds from it while pushing the limits. Admittedly, I loved the convenience of home, a private bathroom and affordable concessions. But, I’d trade all of that just to set foot into a favorite venue packed with like-minded individuals. I bet you would too. So let’s take a brief look at these final three shows.

The technical gremlins were all up in the Tour Gigs stream causing many, myself included, the agony of hoping we could get connected. Thankfully, most of us did, as this one was particularly fun for its second set, as the band played their album Turmoil & Tinfoil in its entirety. It was also the first show that saw long time collaborator, John Mailander sit in on violin for the whole show (also on the 25th). But even with the temptation to dive right into the second half, don’t underestimate the value of the first set, because it was pretty impressive all on its own. Things started getting squirrely leading out of “Sally Goodin’” with lots of spacey noodling and trippy excursions of the whale call variety. Roughly 20 minutes of unbelievable intensity and cosmic guidance. They’ve only played one song, yet here we are melting faces like the Ark of the Covenant. This my friends, foretells good things. They’re on. “20/20 Vision” follows before the band really starts to hunker down with Jeff Austin love on “Fiddling Around,” before a massive “Wharf Rat.” The Hunter/Garcia tune gave Mailander ample opportunity to show why he was my pick for MVP special guest. The solo he unleashes just before the ‘I’ll get up and fly away’ verse was nothing short of magical. The set closing triad of the traditional “Reuben’s Train”>”Enter the Dragon”(Lalo Schifrin)>”No More to Leave You Behind” from the Infamous Stringdusters was yet another shining example of closing a set like a boss. Today, looking back at this set and my notes, maybe the band was determined to break any semblance of predictability before falling into the structure of playing an album set in set two. But then again, maybe not, as there was plenty of fiery unpredictability still lingering in the atmosphere of set two.

Obviously, “On the Line” began the set, and the following “Meet Me at the Creek,” is always a good conduit for exploring, and tonight’s was definitely a remarkable version. Every one of them owned a take here, with Billy Failing shining particularly bright. His run on the back half of the song had Spanish flavors I never would have expected to associate with a banjo. The band’s lighting, which has gotten more psychedelic night after night was really on point here. Speaking of psych, just go right ahead and dive into the intergalactic-ness of “Pyramid Country.” Apostol, Failing and Mailander led the way with the stage right crew of Royal Masat and Jarrod Walker keep things equally freaky on their end. The fun part of catching the album Turmoil & Tinfoil played is the exposure of rarely played or never played songs. “Salty Sheep” (which did leave me wishing Bryan Sutton had made an appearance) segued into “Spinning” and it’s momentum carried us on through transitional space into a personal favorite, “Dealing Despair.” The “Pyramid Country” was my show highlight before the set ending “Doin’ Things Right” and the first-time played “These Memories of You.” Definitely a show cracking the top five if not top three of the run.

7/24/20 Exit/In Set 1 Sally Goodin’> Sweet Blue-Eyed Darling 20/20 Vision Fiddling Around Wharf Rat Rubens Train> Enter the Dragon> No More to Leave You Behind

Set 2 On the Line Meet Me at the Creek All of Tomorrow While I’m Waiting Here> Living Like an Animal Turmoil & Tinfoil Salty Sheep> Spinning> Dealin’ Despair Pyramid Country Doin’ Things Right These Memories of You (FTP)

The first set launched with a first-time performed take of Frank Wakefield’s “End of the Rainbow,” complete with a few “Bathtub Gin” (Phish) teases tossed in, melding skillfully into a feisty “Thirst Mutilator” that just wailed. “Dust in a Baggie” might best be known as a showcase of Apostol’s fretboard skills, but here, Mailander and Failing dominated the runs. Particularly Failing. His leads here, were simply technical ecstasy. “Baggie” transitioned into “So Many Miles,” and was followed by Yonder Mountain String Band’s “Sorrow is a Highway” and the always welcome performance of Little Feat’s “Willin’.” Jarrod Walker introduced Grisman’s “Sugarhill Rambler” and proceeded to own it and the subsequent Dawg cover of “Unwanted Love.”

Set two, and whoa boy, shit got real. There was some intensity in the air during the second set. There was rawness, self-reflection and feels. Definitely feels. I was casually listening to the first set while taking care of some things around the house. It was great, really solid. But there was an atmospheric change after the set break. I don’t know if something happened, or went down during the break but there was a whole different emotion dominating the second half. “Taking Water” and “Must Be 7” were naturally on point as was “Running.” But it was the “Away From the Mire” here that hit me like a ton of bricks. As they commence the song, Billy speaks of kindness, screwing up and giving people a break once in a while. What follows was nothing short of being my favorite song of the nine shows. In truth, it was a fairly standard version of “Away From the Mire” until Apostol seems to emotionally explode during a solo that just transcends the bindings of the song. It’s dark, it’s nerve wracking and cathartic all at once. So much so, following the solo and back at the microphone, it’s seems as if Billy has shed some burdens. I’ve only seen this rawness and passion a few times in my life, and it was one of those moments that I’ll be talking about until I’m dead and gone. Interestingly enough, that wasn’t the end of the roller coaster, with the subsequent “Home” and “Watch it Fall” maintaining the high energy, a raucous “Long Forgotten Dream”gave way to another mind-bender that was “Highway Hypnosis.” “Enough to Leave” always delivers a sobering quality, while “Enough to Leave,” “Hollow Heart,” “Love Like Me.” And “Everything’s the Same” just solidified the show as a barn burner. The band took a break giving Apostol sole ownership of the stage for a beautiful solo “Guitar Peace.” Winding things up, the always fun “Freedom” and the bouncy “Big Sandy River.” Mailander’s contributions on these two shows shouldn’t be underestimated. Being such a part of the Turmoil & Tinfoil, “Home” sessions, John has a way of seamlessly being a part of the band. Both shows should be sought out.

7/25/2020 Billy Strings Exit/In – Nashville, TN End of the Rainbow (1) > Thirst Mutilator (2) > Dust in a Baggie > So Many Miles Sorrow is a Highway Willin’ Sugarhill Rambler> Unwanted Love

Set 2 Taking Water Must Be Seven Running Away From The Mire Home Watch It Fall Long Forgotten Dream Highway Hypnosis Enough To Leave Hollow Heart Love Like Me Everything’s The Same Guitar Peace Freedom Big Sandy River (1) FTP Frank Wakefield (2) Bathtub Gin teases

This was a fun one, and the show that had me scratching my head trying to follow the setlist. Well, the reason being, there were a lot of deeper cuts played this night. Starting with the first-time played John Prine song, “Sweet Revenge,” the band threw down a fitting, loving tribute to a man that all of Nashville, as well as around the world adored. Yet again though, some had issues with connecting to the Nugs stream. As well as this run went, it would be nice to see some of the connection issues get ironed out. I’m sure they will. Anyway, back to the show. “Slow Train” is always a good one, this one included. I love “Shady Grove,” and really like the band’s take on it. “Ernest T. Grass” made a return and segued into another great version of How Mountain Girls Can Love.” “Red Rocking Chair” inspired a meaty jam that carried over into a spicy “Southern Flavor.” Blistering takes on Pearl Jam’s “In Hiding,” and Seldom Scene’s “Old Train” shredded on with a another crazy run on “Turmoil & Tinfoil.”

New Grass Revival’s “Whisper My Name” just us moving into the second set, and next, Marty Stuart’s “Old Mexico” left me grinning ear to ear, before completely stunning me as it clawed and scratched its way in to a wicked “All Fall Down.” NRPS’ Lonesome L.A. Cowboy leveled out the peak momentarily, before Anders Beck dropped by and helped to elevate “Pyramid Country”>”Little Maggie” into legend status. But they weren’t done. With Beck sitting in onward, a ripping “Ballad of Curtis Loew”(Lynryd Skynyrd” and yet another mind blowing “Meet Me at the Creek” propelled us into new realms of bluegrass inspiration. Almost in surreal fashion and with Bill Monroe’s “Y’all Come,” it was over.

7/26/2020 Billy Strings 3rd & Lindsley- Nashville, TN Sweet Revenge (1) Slow Train Shady Grove Ernest T. Grass > How Mountain Girls Can Love Red Rocking Chair > Southern Flavor In Hiding Old Train — Turmoil & Tinfoil Whisper My Name Old Mexico > All Fall Down Lonesome L.A. Cowboy Pyramid Country (2) > Little Maggie (2) Ballad of Curtis Loew (2) Meet Me at the Creek (2) Y’all Come (2)(3) (1) FTP John Prine (2) with Anders Beck (3) FTP

What a really fun experience this nine show tour was. I was impressed and definitely provided a much needed escape from the troubled times. The band is a crazy cohesive unit that just seems to get better and better. So many times they come together in a jam and pull off something so out of the realm of possibilities that’s simply unrehearsable. Not only that, but they do it again, and again. This is a band destined for big things, (perhaps faster than they might want) and bigger venues. As musicians, the band is really maturing, and still evolving as they push boundaries. It’s hard to not give the MVP of the tour to Apostol, but in all fairness, I want to call out Jarrod Walker for the most valuable picker of the run. Over and over, I watched him take the reins and more often than not, drive things past unseen plateaus. Billy Failing’s right there as well, boldly claiming his section of the stage, all while Royal Masat grins like a Cheshire cat and expertly owning the low end. Guest wise, John Mailander followed by Molly Tuttle were my highlights, particularly Tuttle’s “Cold Rain and Snow.” I was left wishing Marcus King could have played a couple more than the two he did, but it is what it is. A few more random thoughts:

Favorite song? 7/25’s “Away From the Mire” at the Exit/Inn, if just for that solo and the war of emotions it seemed to address. Favorite jam? The beautiful chaos leading out of “Sally Goodin’”>”Sweet Blue-eyed Darlin’” 7/24’s Exit Inn show. Also the 7/22 “Black Clouds” City Winery version cooks. Favorite cover? Prine’s “Sweet Revenge” closing night at 3rd & Lindsley on 7/26. I also loved Jarrod’s Grisman covers throughout. Favorite show of the tour? 7/19 at the Station Inn, very closely followed by 7/22 at the City Winery and the Exit/Inn 7/25. Favorite set? Probably the first set of 7/23 at City Winery. Just exactly perfect, and made me realize just what I’d been missing by not regularly checking into these live shows. Thankfully, all of these shows are available in soundboard quality over at Nugs. Check them out here: https://www.nugs.net/billy-strings-concerts-live-downloads-in-mp3-flac-or-online-music-streaming/

Billy Strings is the real deal. Apostol, Walker, Masat and Failing know the music. Not only that, they know the history, and they show a colossal amount of respect for those that have come before. But what might be most impressive, is that they are able to do just that, all while doing things their way. The tour itself being a prime example. Maybe other bands/artists have done similar streaming shows, but I sure missed it if anyone else did nine gigs across 5 venues all while playing 150+ songs at an unbelievable jaw-dropping level. Despite the physical detachment, I still felt a lot of similarities to the the times I’ve been able to break away from the real world to head out on Grateful Dead tour. The shamanistic joy of the music, the welcoming camaraderie of the community, and the warm feel of satisfied exhaustion, followed by the exhilarating knowledge that there’s another chance to experience it tomorrow. That made the final night tough, but thankfully during the set break they announced a few drive-in shows this September. Always nice to end tour with something to look forward too. It just wasn’t the band that made this special. This was truly a team effort. The logistics team, the lighting crew, film, band and sound crews, as well as the venues and streaming providers really came together to give us something memorable. Lastly, all the guest artists were out of sight. They all came loaded for bear, inflecting their own specialties and twists via songs and exceptional playing. A final shout-out to the Billy Strings Set List Page on Facebook for the song tracking assistance. I’ve found a new home over on the Billy Strings Fanpage (Official) also on Facebook thanks to their sense of community as well as the entertainment value. Also, the Billy Strings Merch team exceeded expectations by getting the Streaming Tour merch I ordered to me in no time. Lastly, a call out to Jesse Faatz who provided some incredible live and behind the scene photography. I’ve wanted to photograph Billy Strings for more than a little bit, and these gigs left me more than a little envious. Well done sir. We all want to get back to the live venues as soon as possible. But while we really can’t just yet, Billy Strings threw us a lifeline with these nine shows. Hopefully others follow his lead, and help get their art out to an audience starving for any kind of music experience. Billy Strings has set a pretty high bar. Visit the official Billy Strings page for all the current information and merch: https://billystrings.com/

Show Review: Billy Strings' Nine-Night Streaming Tour 2020, Last 3 Shows! @billystrings @rounderrecords #americanamusic #livemusicreviews photos by Jesse Faatz Billy Strings wrapped up the 9-date “Streaming Strings” tour this past Sunday and it put a feather in the cap of what was a highly memorable run of shows through the heart of Nashville.

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