Terry Scott Taylor- Bedroom Demos – Volume 40

1. I’m A Mole

(A Neverhood song)
Words and music: Terry Scott Taylor

I’m a mole
I go “oh oh oh”
I’m a mole
I go “oh oh oh”
I’m a mole
I go “oh oh oh oh”

I’m fat and brown and I’m goin’ to town
Makin’ a mound
Goin’ underground
Hey, look at me! I’m runnin’ around!

‘Cuz I’m a mole
Oh oh oh
I’m a mole
Oh oh oh
I’m a mole
Oh oh oh oh

I’m taken a stroll
I go where I go
So don’t plug that hole ‘cuz
I’m on a roll
Destroying your yard is my number one goal

‘Cuz I’m a mole
Oh oh oh
I’m a mole
It’s on insects and grub worms that I dine
Also veggies and fungi when I’m inclined
But it’s a misconception that I am blind
I’m just a bit nearsighted, but I see fine

I’m a mole
Oo oo oo
I’m a mole

So don’t seal my fate usin'
Traps and bait
I don’t deserve your hate just ‘cuz I excavate!
As an omnivore, I am first-rate!

‘Cuz I’m a mole
Oh oh oh
I’m a mole
Bo bo bo
I’m a mole
Oh oh oh
I’m a mole
I am a mole

guitar and vocals: T.S. Taylor

note:

Here’s a little lighthearted Neverhood-style song for you. This one was inspired by my next-door neighbor’s participation in The Mole Wars, in which he won a decisive victory. In writing “I’m A Mole” I learned a few things I didn’t know about this little underground nemesis. Maybe you will too.


2. Dancin' on the Devil's Elbow
from the Lost Dogs' album, Old Angel
Words and Music by Terry Scott Taylor
©2010 Zoom Daddy Music

We went dancin' on the Devil's Elbow
Grabbed a spot on the rock where the river rolls
Every woman every man loves The Log Jam Band
And goes dancin' on the Devil's Elbow

When you're down in the mouth and the times are grim
They will tickle your ribs at the Elbow Inn
'Cause seein' bras on the ceilin' you can't help but grin
And go dancin' on the Devil's Elbow

Dancin' on the Devil's Elbow
Grab a spot on the rock where the river rolls
Every woman every man loves The Log Jam Band
And goes dancin' on the Devil's Elbow

Old man Sheldon runs Sheldon's store
Born he claims back in nineteen hundred and four
He's just pullin' our legs right across the floor
Got us dancin' on the Devil's Elbow

Of all the sights we've seen and the places we've been
You can have your giant peanut and your muffler men
'Cause when the river gets to risin' nothin' saves your skin
Like dancin' on the Devil's Elbow

La la la la la la la la la la (2X)
You can tell all your friends that it ain't no kinda sin
To go dancin' on the devil's elbow
La la la la la la la la la la (2X)
In a state called, "MO." we're all good to go
Dancin' on the Devil's Elbow

Still the good Lord knows
You best stay on your toes
When you're dancin' on the Devil's Elbow
La la la la la la (4X)

Guitar and vocal: T.S. Taylor

Note:

As most of you know I wrote two songs for the Lost Dogs centered on the community located along Route 66 known as “The Devil’s Elbow.” The lumbermen chose this odd name because of the bend in The Big Piney River which was responsible for the frequent log jams. The first song I composed was called simply “The Devil’s Elbow” and was written based solely upon what I’d read about the place.

I had no reason then to believe I’d write a second song about it, but this changed when I actually visited The Devil’s Elbow on the Lost Dogs' Route 66 tour. It was such a quirky place and the residents we spoke with there were so friendly and forthcoming with personal anecdotes and historical information that I found myself inspired to musically revisit it.

While in The Devil’s Elbow the guys and I ate lunch (barbecue) at The Elbow Inn, an eatery that locals enjoy along with tourists and bikers from around the world. And yes, hanging from the ceiling inside The Inn are rows and rows of bras of various shapes, sizes, and colors. Apparently, The Inn can get fairly rowdy on Friday and Saturday nights. I also sing about “Old Man Sheldon” who runs the local convenient store/post office. Sheldon is the real deal, and the guys and I couldn’t help but grin when our affable host, with a straight face save for the twinkle in his eye, told us stories about the town which were obviously embellished with not a few fantastical elements, including his claim that he opened the store back in 1904!

The twinkle disappeared however and he became quite passionate when he defended the townsfolk against this frequent (and utterly ridiculous) claim made by far too many gullible outsiders: “ the people of The Devils Elbow are a bunch of Satan worshipers.” Ironically, after a Lost Dogs concert a number of months later, I was talking to a guy backstage who told me he’d been baptized….in The Devil’s Elbow’s Big Piney River”!


3. You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere
(written by Bob Dylan ) as interpreted by The Byrds

Clouds so swift, rain won't lift
Gate won't close, railing's froze
Get your mind off wintertime
You ain't goin' nowhere

Ooh-wee, ride me high
Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come
Oh-ho, are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair?

I don't care how many letters they sent
The morning came, the morning went
Pack up your money, pack your tent
You ain't goin' nowhere

Ooh-wee, ride me high
Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come
Oh-ho, are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair?

Buy me a flute and a gun that shoots
Tailgates and substitutes
Strap yourself to a tree with roots
You ain't goin' nowhere

Ooh-wee, ride me high
Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come
Oh-ho, are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair?

Now, Genghis Khan, he could not keep
All his kings supplied with sleep
We'll climb that hill, no matter how steep
When we get up to it

Ooh-wee, ride me high
Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come
Oh-ho, are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair?

guitar and vocals: T.S. Taylor

note:

I first heard “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” the opening track on The Byrd’s country-influenced album Sweetheart Of The Rodeo, the year of its release in 1968. I was immediately captivated by the song’s catchy melody and somewhat enigmatic lyrics. "You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere" was composed by Bob Dylan during his self-imposed exile following a motorcycle accident in July of 1966, and he would later record it, accompanied by The Band, on 1975’s “The Basement Tapes.”

While the mid 60’s folk music revival, and later The Beatles and The Beach Boy’s recordings, were primarily responsible for inspiring my desire to become a songwriter, it was Sweetheart Of The Rodeo, along with Buffalo Springfield’s self-titled first album (1966), Crosby, Stills, and Nash’s self-titled first album (1969), Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful (1966), Donavan’s A Gift From A Flower To A Garden, (1967), The Beatle’s Rubber Soul (1965), Dylan’s Nashville Skyline (1969), and Dylan and The Band’s Basement Tapes, which most influenced my songwriting during the mid to late seventies. Many of the songs written for Daniel Amos’s first record came out of this period, and the album itself, while thought of as primarily a country-rock record, reflected my love of an eclectic array of the songwriting styles I was exploring at the time and which I hoped to more broadly explore in the future. Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful, for example, is indicative of where I wanted to creatively take Daniel Amos. The Spoonful’s eclectic mix of 60’s pop, Americana, jug band music, and rock, along with John Sebastion’s clever, thoughtful lyrical wordplay and hook-laden music beds, evocative of everything from haunting melancholy to satire (while still managing to maintain a sense of cohesiveness), was everything I could hope to find in a pop record.

The intrigue of 60’s pop bands such as The Byrds and the Beau Brummels (Bradley’s Barn, 1968), defying expectations by each recording a classic country-inspired album to add to their discography, was alluring to me. While Daniel Amos essentially did the reverse by stepping outside the country-rock idiom to explore broader creative horizons, it was not only our love of various styles of music, but the fun of taking listeners to new, unexpected places, which inspired our musical adventurousness. I am thankful and humbled that there are still a number of loyal supporters who, after all these years, are still happy to join me in the adventure. God is truly good.




4. The Ruthless Hum of Dread
from the Daniel Amos album, Dig Here Said the Angel
Music by Daniel Amos, Words by T.S. Taylor
©2013 Shape of Air Music

I opened the wrong door
Got somewhat famous for
Getting all my wires crossed
I nod to give the impression
I'm clearly hearing the directions
Can't admit when I get lost
Fake like I'm up to speed
And I don't need the help to read
That blur of writing on the wall
But I'm not fooling anyone
I'm always tired and on the run
In my head, here it comes
Ruthless hum of dread

I try to listen again to your voice drowning in
My blood flowing hot as lead
As night fears slip in between hissing sheets and springs
And in the folds of my sibilant bed

Fists are pounding on the door
Cracks are forming on the floor
And the needle's banging red
Yeah guilt's a hardball fever pitched
Strikes the target, flips the switch
In my head, here it comes
Ruthless hum of dread

In a pauper's field of dreams
I'm walking in between open-mouthed graves
Anxious to be fed
And all my buried intentions are groaning for transition
In the raising of the dead
A skip, a flutter, a stop-and-start
A heart-ruined rhythm driven by the bass drum thump of meds
All the years, every mile
Another upturn on the dial
In my head, here it comes
Ruthless hum of dread

Let me go deep inside your safehouse love and light
Beyond the clang of the alarm
And imagine a long rest
Last kisses and a sweet death
Free to float above your arms
Into the company of angels
A final turning of the tables
My old flesh a misery shed
Forever young and light enough
To dance among
The stars above
My head, my head,
My head, my head

guitar and vocals: T.S. Taylor

note:

Back in 2003 when DA was gathered together at Ed McTaggart’s place in Irvine, California to rehearse songs for what would become our fourteenth studio album, Dig Here Said The Angel there was one particular song that I was reluctant to play for the band. My hesitation was not due to any concern that the song might be too weak, but that it in fact might be too strong in the sense of being too brutally honest. Too personal. Too depressing. Maybe even too morbid. Despite my reservations, I wound up playing the song for the guys anyway. When I ended the song, a hush fell on the room. No one said a word. I was unsure of how to read the silence. Because of its subject matter I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone to smile, clap, and exuberantly declare their love for a song with the title “The Ruthless Hum Of Dread”; after all, it was about growing old, the deterioration of the body, and the inevitability of death. Not exactly your "go to" song for inspiration, joy, and optimism. In the midst of what was for me a very uncomfortable silence I offered the guys a kind of apology, saying I thought the song might be too glum and that if the band was uncomfortable with it, I would not be in the least offended if we moved on to something else.

Since ‘The Ruthless Hum of Dread” made the cut after all, obviously I had initially misread the room that day. The silence on the part of the band was not due to qualms about recording such a sad and potentially depressing number but, because the guys had been so moved by it, a kind of reverential hush had fallen on the room. After this brief silence the collective consensus was that although the song contained an element of bleakness, its strength was in its raw, unsentimental honesty, one that many people around my age could readily identify with. Besides, despite its sobering, somewhat brutal candor, in the end, it culminated in hope and redemption. We finished recording the song in Nashville a few weeks later, and I distinctly remember the reaction after listening to the final mix for the first time. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

Many months prior to our rehearsal I had been inspired to write the song by a series of health-related concerns that year, along with a growing sense of the reality of my earthly mortality. Family members and friends had passed away, many of them unexpectedly. At times this was overwhelming to me and, in those times of grief and struggle, God felt faraway and aloof. Night fears would often set in and sleep could be elusive. It wasn’t that I feared death, it was that I feared for my family and what would become of them after I was gone. In bed at night I could now hear the beat of my own heart in my ears and I became acutely aware of any anomalies in its rhythm. The amount of meds I was taking grew exponentially with almost every visit to my doctor. Financial pressures plagued me. I was depressed and inert. What was I to do?

Eventually, I went to the Lord to confess what I discerned to be pride in my reluctance to let others know (besides my wife) about my situation. I shared my physical, mental, and spiritual anguish with trusted friends and family members who fervently and faithfully prayed for me and offered understanding, encouragement, love, and wisdom along the way. My trust in the Lord began to grow and I began to experience a deeper sense of his presence. I was discerning his sovereign hand in my life in a way I had never known before. I can’t say that everything was peaches and cream after that, but I was no longer a slave to fear. Today I still have my struggles and occasional lapses, but the ruthless hum of dread is no longer dominant. It has been largely drowned out by the sound of the still small voice.

Although I can’t be certain, I believe God inspired me in the writing of "Ruthless Hum." To what extent and how this “inspiration” thing exactly works remains a mystery to me, but I must say that lyrics such as the lines “I try to listen again/ to your voice drowning in/my blood flowing hot as lead/as night fears slip in between/hissing sheets and springs/and in the folds of my sibilant bed,” or these lines: “In a pauper’s field of dreams/I’m walking in between/ open-mouthed graves/anxious to be fed,” by virtue of how much they surprised me when they showed up, seem to me to have existed somewhere out there in the cosmos long before they entered my brain and I was fortunate enough to write them down. As you no doubt know by now, this song-writing thing really floats my boat! I know I’ve said it many times before, but it bears repeating: I couldn’t do it without you, my dearest friends.

The Wild Frontier [Randy Stonehill Cover] Bedroom Demo #245
Wild Frontier - 2021 (mastered).mp3
5. The Wild Frontier
words and music: Randy Stonehill
arranged by Terry Scott Taylor
Like a child who dreams of flying
And aches for something more
We hold the dim remembrance
Of an ancient golden shore
Ah, but now our faith is frozen
We lost it by default
I tell you if we linger
We will all be turned to salt

CHORUS:

Come where the Big Wind blows
Out on the wild frontier
Follow where it goes
Out on the wild frontier
It's as close as your heartbeat
It's as far as your fear
It's beyond the great horizon
Out on the wild frontier

Clinging to this hourglass
Bound up by regret
We mistake the spider's web
For a safety net
This vacuum we've erected
It robs our very breath
To embrace this grand illusion
Is to know the living death

Come where the Big Wind blows
Out on the wild frontier
Follow where it goes
Out on the wild frontier
Well this message is simple
For he who has ears
The promised land is calling
Out on the wild frontier

Smash all your mirrors
Break down your doors
And be made clean
By the Mighty Storm
Come where the Big Wind blows 
Out on the wild frontier 
Follow where it goes 
Out on the wild frontier 
Well this message is simple 
For he who has ears 
The promised land is calling 
Out on the wild frontier
guitar and vocals: T.S. Taylor
note:
In thinking back on my long career as a songwriter performer, and producer, I can’t recall a time when I took the radical step of scrapping a song I was recording in the studio because it didn’t seem to be working out to my satisfaction. My bandmates and I always managed to find a way to overcome difficulties that any given arrangement might present, even if it meant dumping the original arrangement altogether and starting over from scratch. So you can imagine how discouraged and, frankly, baffled I was recently when a song I’d put time and effort into seemed to elude every attempt on my part to make it work. Perhaps my failure was more a blow to my pride than anything else. Be that as it may, I thought I’d share the “behind the scenes” story with you.
A few months back I was honored to be asked to contribute a song to the soon to be released Randy Stonehill tribute record. Since Randy has written so many wonderful songs, it was a challenge for me to narrow my choices down to just one. Unfortunately, at some point, I was informed that a number of songs I would have loved to cover had already been chosen by other artists. So, buoyed by a friend’s suggestion, I initially picked a song that was somewhat out of my comfort zone. The song? “The Wild Frontier” from the Stonehill album by the same name. My intention was to create a unique version of Randy’s original Springsteen-esque, guitar-driven version. With that in mind, I began the recording process. To my great disappointment it wasn’t long before frustration and confusion set in. Nothing I did seemed to be working. The more I labored over the song, the more it seemed to evade me. I tried adding certain instruments and, when those didn’t work, I got rid of them and tried others. I took various vocal approaches, but none of them felt right to me. I struggled at night to go to sleep, so obsessed was I with trying to find some other approach to the song that might salvage it. Despite the fact that the solution continued to elude me, I still held out hope that I would eventually succeed in creating a version I was proud of and, more importantly, one that would honor my dear friend.
I’m now convinced that the creative drought I was experiencing at the time (i.e my inability to “hear” new material), was connected to my just having completed my 22 song solo record; my efforts to do so had the residual effect of temporarily draining me of most, if not all, of my creative energy. I had been pouring my heart and soul into “This Beautiful Mystery” for two years straight and the truth was that not only was I not ready to abruptly shift musical gears but, more importantly, I desperately needed downtime; a hiatus of sorts in which I could take a much needed break from the intensity of having worked on such a demanding project for what was an inordinately long period of time. It wasn’t Randy’s song that was the problem. It was me. Bottom line? I finally had to admit to myself that I was officially burned out. The situation was exacerbated by the fact that a deadline for the tribute album’s submissions was looming, so the task of choosing another song other than ‘Wild Frontier,’ and basically starting from scratch, appeared to be an option unavailable to me. What was I to do? Eventually I decided to try and salvage the thing by sending it to a multi- talented fix-it man; a fellow artist who I was confident could clean up the mess I’d made, and do so in time to meet the deadline. Off the song went to my friend. At last I could breath a sigh of relief. The song was in capable hands.
So, in the end, did my friend save the day? Well….I wish I could say that he did. No doubt he did his very best. In fact, he did a wonderful job. Unfortunately, I had made such a mess of things that not even my extremely talented fix-it-man friend could work his magic and save it. Simply put, my version of the song still managed to suck. Now a sense of panic set in because, for all intents and purposes, I had come to a dead end. I began to mentally prepare myself to make the call that would inform Randy’s people that I had no choice but to drop out of the project altogether. I was was discouraged, depressed, and heartbroken. And then…… a miracle! Well, maybe not a miracle, but certainly a last minute reprieve. A solution emerged. I’ll spare you an even longer story here. Let’s just say that an element of the solution included Randy’s people being understanding and gracious enough to allow me more time. As a result, I wound up scrapping ‘The Wild Frontier’ and finding a different song; one that I had somehow managed to overlook the first time around. As most of you know, ’Lantern In the Snow’ is a tune that Stonehill and I had penned together back in 1991 for the album ‘Wonderama’. Of the many records I have produced for Randy over the years, ‘Wonderama’ may be my favorite, and this is primarily because of gorgeous and moving songs such as ‘Rachael Delavoryas,’ ‘Sing In Portuguese’ and ‘Lantern In The Snow.’ Many of you will also recall that I previously recorded and posted a version of ‘Lantern’ here on Patreon. The Stonehill tribute version is a bit more layered than the older Patreon version, but I retained many of the latter’s key elements.
Despite having met the challenge of completing a song for the Stonehill record, I was still struggling with post ‘Beautiful Mystery’ blues; the sense of having been creatively drained was ever present, and I see now that the difficulty of “letting go” of my solo record, along with various health issues, was also causing me to struggle with occasional bouts of depression. Fortunately, after a short period of much needed downtime, (along with prayer, book-reading, family time, and so forth), I managed, with the help of our Lord, to find my creative legs again; and while they may still be a bit wobbly, at least I’ve now begun to move forward.
In closing let me say that I’m thankful I have the opportunity here to take another crack at ‘The Wild Frontier.’ This time around I took a no frills, more intimate approach; something I definitely should have done the first time around! I hope you kids enjoy it. Cheers!
6. Hickory Wind
words and music: Gram Parsons/Bob Buchanan

In South Carolina
There're many tall pines
I remember the oak tree
That we used to climb
But now, when I'm lonesome
I always pretend
That I'm gettin' the feel
Of hickory wind
I'd started out younger
Had most everything
All the riches and pleasures
What else can life bring?
But it makes me feel better
Each time it begin
Callin' me home
Hickory wind
It's a hard way to find out
That trouble is real
In a faraway city
With a faraway feel
But it makes me feel better
Each time it begin
Callin' me home
Hickory wind
Keeps callin' me home
Hickory wind


guitar and vocals: T.S. Taylor


note:

In my last post I wrote about some of my early musical influences, which included the 1968 Byrd’s album “Sweetheart Of The Rodeo.” I shared with you how ‘Sweetheart’ heavily influenced Daniel Amos’s self-titled debut album. You may recall that some time back, the first song off of ‘Sweetheart’ I chose to cover for Patreon was the Louvin Brother’s “(I Like) The Christian Life.” This was followed sometime later with my rendition of the gospel music classic “I Am A Pilgrim,” a tune previously recorded by The Lost Dogs for our 1999 release “Gift Horse.” In my last post I chose to cover “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” and this time around I’ve recorded what is arguably the strongest song on ‘Sweetheart,’ Gram Parson’s signature tune “Hickory Wind.”
While in the process of learning these songs I hadn’t taken the time to listen to ‘Sweetheart’ in it’s entirety, so it was with much delight and a good deal of wistfulness that I recently revisited the complete album, my melancholy being the result of a mental trip back in time to the day when, as a teenager, I first put ‘Sweetheart’ on my turntable. Little did I know back then that, along with a number of other factors, this moment, (orchestrated by a providential God), would come to play a pivotable roll in the launching of my musical career. This is made all the more poignant by the fact that Byrd members Chris Hillman and Roger McGuinn are today both avid Christians.
Although I had originally planned to record one or two songs off of ‘Sweetheart,’ the fact that I am “a double minded man unstable in all my ways,” naturally provoked my penchant for flailing incertitude. The truth is that not recording ‘Hickory Wind’ would have been a majorly dimwitted oversight on my part, one that would have easily made The Top Ten on what is a fairly lengthy and ever growing list. Who knows; there’s the distinct possibility that I’ll be recording a couple of more songs off this same country music classic, so put that in your corncob pipe and smoke it!
In closing let me say that if you don’t know the fascinating but tragic story of the late and legendary Gram Parsons, it’s worth looking up and reading. As to the song itself, it has been described as “bittersweet nostalgia” in which Parsons “imagines an Edenic childhood of simple pleasures, like climbing trees.” The writer goes on to say that “during successive verses (Parsons) reflects on the pursuit of fame, the curse of wealth without spiritual satisfaction, and the perils of city life.” For the listener, the lyrical honesty of the song and Parsons’ vulnerable vocal delivery, added to the fact that this young man lived a tragic and all too brief life, makes for a heartbreakingly moving experience. I’ve done my best to capture that same sense of poignancy in my version of it.


7. Solitary Man
words and music: Neil Diamond
arrangement: Terry Scott Taylor


Melinda was mine
‘Till the time that I found her
Holding Jim
Loving him

Then Sue came along,
Loved me strong, that’s what I thought
Me and Sue,
But that died too

Don’t know that I will
But until I can find me
The girl who’ll stay,
Won't play games behind me,
I’ll be what I am
A solitary man
A solitary man

I’ve had it to here
Bein’ where loves a small word;
Part time thing,
Paper ring

I know it’s been done
Having one girl beside me
Right or wrong,
Weak or strong

Don’t know that I will
But until I can find me
The girl who’ll stay,
Won't play games behind me,
I’ll be what I am
A solitary man
A solitary man…



guitar and vocals: T.S. Taylor


note:

A few days ago on Facebook I came across my friend Tom Gulotta's post about Neil Diamond’s debut single “Solitary Man.” Tom’s post received a number of positive responses, including one from yours truly, which were affirming of his love of the song. Being an avid fan of melancholy songs, I believe this may be my favorite Neil Diamond composition.
I clearly remember hearing Solitary Man for the first time on the radio back in1966 and how immediately impressed I was by it’s melody, intimacy, and honesty. Neil said in a 2000 interview that it wasn’t until long after recording the song that he realized the lyrics were in fact about him.
Initially recorded for Bang Records in late January of 1966, and since covered by the likes of Chris Isaak, Johnny cash, and BJ Thomas, Solitary Man was released a second time by Bang in 1970 to coincide with Diamond’s renewed commercial success. Originally the song was a minor hit, reaching number 55 on the U.S. pop charts. The rerelease reached number 21 on the same chart, and number 6 on the easy listening chart. In a 2005 issue of Rolling Stone Magazine, Dan Epstein wrote that “Solitary Man” remains the most brilliantly efficient song in the Diamond collection. There’s not a wasted chord or word in this two-and-a-half minute anthem of heartbreak and self-affirmation, which introduced the melancholy loner persona that he repeatedly returned to throughout his career.”
I’ve recorded the song here because not only do I love it, but I derive great pleasure in making my friends happy. Tom is my friend. You are my friends. Enough said.