Our mission: To seek out and promote superb but rarely heard songwriters.
The Distance

I started this site just over a year ago, knowing very little about Podcasting (I had a book on it), but thinking that it may be a good way to promote some of the things that I was doing, as well as some of the things my friends were doing. My desire has been to find the diamonds in the rough, those that are just emerging to the surface that exhibit great potential. 

Finding the time to get out there, find the talent, record, edit, engineer etc, all while maintaining a full time job has proved to be rather difficult, so my postings have been rather sparse and infrequent. 

A few weeks ago I decided to start taking submissions (see the submission button at the left). The Podcast that is being posted here is a result of that solicitation. After listening to it, I went to the band's website and ordered their CD. Being a junkie for the western side of country, more specifically the southwestern side of country, I heard the distinct flavor of Country & Southwestern in this song. These guys wouldn't be out of place at Greune Hall or Sixth street in Austin.

I've had my first listen to the CD and there are some lyrics that definitely reach out and grab your attention, and I'm looking forward to hearing it again. 

Here is what the song writer has to say about this tune:

You notice the clock is crooked; it's 1:37 pm. You've wondered what this day would look like for a long time. You study all the angles. She's standing in the kitchen wearing the blue dress you bought her in Barra de Navidad four years ago. She pours two glasses of diet coke and rum, very unlike her, not being much of a drinker. You ask her to pour a bit more booze in yours, adding that you prefer the dark rum but this will do. "You really shouldn't drink so much", she says.  

Outside it is sunny, but cold. The wind is blowing. The quaking aspens are dropping their leaves. It's fall (these things always happen in fall). 

There are no more locking hands over the abyss. The distance is too much. IT'S OVER.....and you both know it. Five photo books worth of years sit on the wood and brick shelf, awkwardly unwanted. The rum starts to cast a maudlin fog..... 

It is a quiet, civil affair (even with the alcohol). The fights have stopped. Arrangements are made: "I'll be in Pendleton for a few weeks; that should give you enough time to pack your stuff and find a place", she says.

You agree. 

Strange how passion can go so stale, how that distance grows, how we forget (...or don't). You would love to hate her, but after all you've been through, a huge sadness is all you can manage. You remember you used to love her, careful not to remember why.  

It's time to move again.

This song came to us from Scotland Barr and the Slow Drags, located in Portland Oregan. The band members are, from left-to-right; Mickey Featherstone-bass; Scotland Barr-lead vocal, guitar; Zach Hinkelman-lead guitar; Bryan Daste-pedal steel, sax, theremin, backing vocals; Chris Hubbard-keys, backing vocals; Nick Kostenborder-drums.  The picture was taken during their recent tour, outside a San Francisco club called Thee Parkside, by the drummer's mom. Thanks mom.

The Distance can be found on the band's CD entitled  Legionnaire's Disease . For more information on this group, please visit the following websites.:


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Direct download: 08_The_Distance.mp3
Category:Music podcasts -- posted at: 9:05am EDT