This song is about feeling the friction of fiction in conflict with the reality of romance.–
“Those pictures paint a glamorous disguise on the things we idolize
...but who could I love more than you?”
The fear of rejection can keep you from living. The dangers of idealism can keep you from beginning. There is such a vast distance between each of us that can only be closed by overcoming the difficulties within and outside of ourselves. What could compel us to do what is difficult? Only love can do that. "Blame The Miles Between" is a journal of my struggle to love set to the sounds of soulful rock 'n roll. A struggle to overcome rejection and dangerous idealism. A journey to find a relationship where we choose to love each other day after day, year after year. To do what is difficult. It is the culmination of two years of production, five years of songwriting, over a decade of DIY music, and the fruit of life examined. Recorded in my home studio, mixed by Evan Redwine at The Wine Box, and mastered by Kim Rosen at Knack Mastering. "Blame The Miles Between" features performances by Matt Scibilia (Cory Chisel, Marc Scibilia), Adam Meisterhans (Rozwell Kid, J.P. Harris, The Demon Beat), Jesse Thompson, Abigail Dempsey, and Hannah Lusk (Forlorn Strangers), and artists Zach Vinson and Charlie Murphey (Commitment Bells). This release was funded by my generous backers on Kickstarter in March of 2016.
Who stole the light from your eyes, my child?
Where comes this sadness in your quiet hour?
I see your lashes fall, I hear your sighs.
Tell me who has made you cry.
How can I speak of the churning inside?
What tongue can tell without telling lies?
My soul is restless, my hands are on fire
since she stole the stars from my eyes.
Yes, she stole the stars from my eyes.
Does she appear to scrape the sky, my child:
the heavens gathered up like fireflies.
She is no goddess. She has no power
over you.
She's just a passing cloud in the night.
I see the truth, but I feel the sorrow.
Speak no more
until the morrow comes.
We will come through.
You get tired when you travel alone,
so you find someone who can share your load
and you hope to God that you found a companion.
Well, the time you spend together will show
if it's gonna ease or increase your load;
if the laughter outweighs the sorrow.
Where are you headed?
Where do you think you're gonna go?
Can we get there together,
and how are we supposed to know?
Is it mystical or fate,
or a decision that you make?
What makes this love the one
for the rest of your life?
If you need someone to say
or a sign to show the way
you might be traveling alone for a long, long while.
Oh, so let me ride down your road
and shoulder up underneath of your load
I've been praying to God to let me be your companion.
'Cause the time I've spent with you has shown
that I can depend on you to hold me up.
You lift me up when I'm feeling low,
and our laughter fills me up inside.
You're my cherry wine.
Don't know where I'm headed,
but I think I know which way to go.
I've made up my mind, I want you by my side.
Is it mystical or fate,
or a decision that you make?
What makes this love the one
for the rest of your life?
If you need someone to say
or a sign to show the way
you might be traveling alone for a long, long while.
So, let me ride down your road
when you get tired of traveling alone.
I spent a while
trying to cut and file
myself into something you'd want to see,
but all that ever did was make me bleed:
and calloused underneath.
Don't you do me wrong.
Don't you string my heart a long.
Won't you do, do right,
right by me.
Well, I got wise
to all those lies
that always made me feel so incomplete.
I found out just what I need:
someone who can build on what I bring.
No, she don't do me wrong.
She don't string my heart along,
no, she do, do right
right by me.
Don't you do me wrong.
Don't you string my heart a long.
Won't you do, do right,
right by me.
I have never seen the face of a word on a page,
I've never held the hand of a glowing screen.
But, I have fallen in love over and over again
with words I've read from people I never see.
"The distance," said a friend of mine, "is really what you love,
and knowing it won't work out is what you need."
That I'm afraid to face the day to day
with someone who's not far enough away
to blame the miles between.
But, I've been blinded
I've been double-crossed.
I've been hardened
by the hurt.
How far away is the nearest broken heart
that might align with the way that mine's been fractured?
I'll start with my voice and spare the written word
before my life becomes a silent film
and I the only actor.
I've been blinded
I've been double-crossed.
I've been hardened
by the hurt.
Some live high and some just try
to make it out alive
I just tried to get it right
The time you waste playing it safe
becomes a memory,
and it’s as painful as can be.
Did you make the most?
Did you make the most of it, honey?
Or did you give it up for free.
Did you make the most?
Did you make the most of it, honey?
‘Cause once it’s gone it will never be
that way again.
I’ve been looking back on me
in such a curious way.
Why did I leave so many things undone?
Many’s the chance I did not take
afraid it might be some mistake.
Now, those chances no longer come.
Did you make the most?
Did you make the most of it, honey?
Or did you give it up for free.
Did you make the most?
Did you make the most of it, honey?
‘Cause once it’s gone it will never be
that way again.
You feel it now or you feel it then,
there’s no way to go back again
and do or undo what was or wasn’t done.
"You can stay safe by staying free,"
Lord knows I tried it and come to believe
wisdom only comes on the heels of suffering.
Shades of green
hues of violet
frame the banks
of a wooden streamlet
an architects' parade
of sun-dappled shade
beneath a coat of swinging arms
Summer grass
lines the pathway
wild wheat, flowing gently
stirred by a breeze
your hand glides with ease
through an ocean of flaxen grain
Kaleidoscope
at sunset
violets
form a carpet
even tulips blush
when our two lips touch
before a crested Monet sky
Side by side
in a hammock
my right arm
beneath your neck
you close your eyes
mine open wide
beneath a canopy of stars
You had me
but you didn't want me
you just wanted to keep me
from loving anybody else
The look on your face said everything
so I said nothing at all.
There was a time you swore you'd be mine,
now we don't even talk.
And you can't lie, can't look behind.
Now you've blown your cover.
You had me
but you didn't want me
you just wanted to keep me
from loving anybody else
So, I won't
keep living with the false hope
that I'll ever see your heart show.
Half-hearted lover.
So, I'll take anybody else
I'll take anybody else
I'll take anybody else.
Half-hearted lover
The time that I wait for the silence to break
I could be halfway to Harlem,
or taking a plane to learn the name
of a girl who lives in L.A.
And I won't lie, won't look behind.
There's nothing to keep under cover.
You had me
but you didn't want me
you just wanted to keep me
from loving anybody else
So, I won't
keep living with the false hope
that I'll ever see your heart show.
Half-hearted lover.
So, I'll take anybody else
I'll take anybody else
I'll take anybody else.
Half-hearted lover
Tell me of that secret place
you carry deep inside;
when your cares are pressing hard
and you need a little peace of mind
–tell me where you hide.
Is it a refuge made of stone
on a mountain high,
or a cabin in the woods
of your heart and mind
that no one else can enter or can find.
That secret place
is where I want to go.
Lead me there, or else leave me alone.
O! Serenity.
With a look of quiet ease
resting on your face,
you take your troubles one by one,
you take them down to the riverside
and there you mill them fine.
That secret place
is where I want to go.
Lead me there, or else leave me alone.
O! Serenity.
While others drift like autumn leaves,
aimless on the breeze,
easy as a falling stone
finds the bottom of the stream
you find whatever you seek.
Sunshine and rain.
Pleasure and pain.
How can it be?
How can it be?
You caught me at a good time:
just when my dreams were coming true.
So, excuse me if I seem a little dazed
and rightly confused.
'Cause there's pain under the pleasure
and pleasure under the pain
like sunshine and rain
on a sun-cloudy day
I can't get used to the two
and I'm trying to believe what's true.
See, most of my life
I've had to struggle
just to be seen by someone like you.
But, I called your name
and you answered right away.
See, now I don't know what I'm supposed to do.
My mind's telling me it can't be true.
I know what I'm feeling
might be deceiving
still I want to believe that it's you.
But there's pain under the pleasure
and pleasure under the pain
like sunshine and rain
on a sun-cloudy day
I can't get used to the two
and I'm trying to perceive what's true.
And there's pain under the pleasure
and pleasure under the pain
like sunshine and rain
on a sun-cloudy day
it's neither good, no no
nor bad.
It's just true.
Sunshine and rain.
Pleasure and pain.
How can it be?
I left work about six o'clock
drove to the café down the street.
Jumped in line and struggled with the crowd
just trying to get a seat.
Well, the waiter took my order down
and when I cracked a joke
he didn't even smile.
So, I ate by myself
and realized after a while.
It's a cold world without you, girl.
Places I go, people I know:
they all change from red to blue.
It's a cold world without you.
So, I paid the check and put on my coat
stepped outside and it dropped fifteen degrees.
The car was cold when I got in
so, I shivered down and turned up the heat.
But, by the time that I got home, you know
that needle barely moved above "C"
So, with fingers locked and frozen
I was fumbling in the dark for my house key
when it came to me.
It's a cold world without you, girl.
Places I go, people I know:
they all change from red to blue.
It's a cold world without you.
It's your face at the end of the day;
It's your warm hand in mine
that keeps me from turning old
and turning cold
as the months and years blow by.
It's a cold world without you, girl.
Places I go, people I know:
they all change from red to blue.
It's a cold world without you.
It's a cold world without you.
It's a cold world without you.
When tragedy strikes, priorities change. This song just tumbled out the week of the Philando Castile and Dallas Police shootings in July. It's not on my record and by all recommendations I shouldn't be releasing it right now, but our country needs healing, and this song is part of my attempt to begin that process in my own heart. I wrote, played, and recorded all words and music in my home studio in Nashville during July-August 2016. Harmony by Carl Anderson. Mastered by Kim Rosen at Knack Mastering.
What in the world is going on in my country?
Why do we have to be on different sides?
We all want the same world for our children;
we all want to live happy lives.
Looking out at the world
through such a limited point of view
such as the one you'd see
on your television news,
you'd be scared of your neighbor
and they would be scared, too
–always ready to fight anybody
who looks different than you
We've been through this before,
the world at war:
from your own front lawn to the capitol floor
You can legislate change
but our hearts stay the same.
How many lives must we lose
before we belive
that it's our lives at stake?
We've waited so long
for the world to change,
rallied around politicians
who have made it their campaign,
but who we put in The White House
don't make a difference at my house
if my neighbors and I choose
an eye for an eye over peace
Recorded in 3 days in the apartment I used to share with Sean, I took the songs left from the ashes of my band Starline Drive, and all of the instruments I could play and cut this record. With no team and no band, I played all of the parts, and did all of the packaging and design. Carefully arranged acoustic music, laid-back with a groove and a mission. I call it Appalachian Soul. When I moved to Nashville in 2011, I brought this EP. I wrote all of the songs, I played all of the parts. Now, I am preparing to release my debut full-length record, "Blame The Miles Between," but I need your help to get it ready. I'm doing a Kickstarter campaign to raise $5,000 toward the release of this record. The link is below, and I hope you will check it out and consider joining me in sharing this record.
It came to me without warning
as dreams will often do
left me blindly here a standing
now I haven’t got a clue
what to do
without you
you were leaning on the doorframe
I was sitting on the bed
and I turned around,
afraid you would walk away
and this is what you said
it wrecked my head
I can’t forget
We should have written letters by the hour
I never meant to do you harm
but I was so, I was so, I was so naive
I couldn’t believe the thought
that you might want me, too
now I finally see
the truth of what
you said to me
There’s no song that can soothe me
no words that I can find
that can bring me peace
in the midst of a broken heart
No one could really know
the way you’ve burdened me so
there’s no use in trying
to bring it up again
These are the last words I want you to hear
barely loud enough to make it to your ear
“…am in…with…"
I spent many dark nights
with an arrow by my side
trying to draw my bow
to pierce your heart
but the harder I tried
the more elusive I would find
you were always moving
farther out of range
These are the last words I want you to hear
barely loud enough to make it to your ear
“…am in…with…"
In this battle of love
I’ve been the shot, the push, the shove
you were always retreating
I swore I wouldn’t give up hope
until I gave it all I had
penned my heart behind your walls
til I surrendered
These are the last words I want you to hear
barely loud enough to make it to your ear
“…am in…with…"
I guess I misunderstood your invitation.
I guess I saw what I wanted to see.
I guess I was a fool to see you that way.
I guess I dream too easily.
Thought I was seeing signs in the day to day:
the Almighty trailing breadcrumbs
just to lead my thoughts to you.
Well, I need no reminders
to keep you in my dreams –
It's my daily prayer
oh, to see you there.
I'm not gonna ask you to explain a thing to me
I don't wanna hear your reasoning.
Though I would love just to hold you in my arms,
all I want you to do
Is sing something beautiful
There are just some things that are unforgettable:
a kiss that can build a dream
like an unchained melody.
I'm in a ring of fire
and I just won't let it be:
like a rolling stone, may you never be alone.
Your lips speak poetry to the air you breathe
Your voice always carries a melody.
Though I would love to know
what your lips feel like on mine,
all I want them to do
Is sing something beautiful
Roll the windows down,
I want to hear the groan of the wind
blowing through the trees.
Can you hear the sound?
April songs of summer dreams
escaping with the green.
But, if we can catch the fading color
falling from the trees
turning the leaves to brown,
we'll keep it warm between our hands
and give it time to grow,
and those January nights
won't seem so dark.
And I won't worry
I won't worry
I won't worry 'bout the change,
'cause there's no hurry,
baby don't you worry,
we can take our time;
we can take it slow.
Winter nights when the wind howls
through bare and snowy branches
and the moon lights up the frost
on the window pane,
we can follow that color of fall in love,
sowing our dreams in the wintertime:
just put your hand to mine.
Palm to palm we shape the leaves
and the roots form beneath
of our fingers intertwined
where two branches will lead
to two pairs of prayerful leaves
and the whisper in the spring,
if you listen...
by the summer says...
I won't worry
I won't worry
I won't worry 'bout the change,
'cause there's no hurry,
baby don't you worry,
we can take our time;
we can take it slow.
“Have you seen anything?” asked my landlord, Debra. Our house had already been robbed, and the 100 year old plaster ceiling had caved in on my bedroom from a leaky radiator in the upstairs bathroom. I had no idea what else she expected, and said so.
“I used to live in your bedroom, and I once saw an old man in brown suit walk past the door, into the kitchen and disappear. The lady across the road said, 'Ah, that was Mr. Wyatt. He always wore that brown suit on Sundays.'”
That’s the room where I finished writing, “Who Stole The Light?” the first song on ‘Blame The Miles Between.’ I had just left college and moved my stuff in before Christmas. For two weeks I lived alone in the house with nothing but the sound of the radiator and my acoustic guitar. It was a lonely time. Six months later, the band I had been in all through college imploded. When the other three members moved to Pennsylvania, I decided it was time to follow through on what I had wanted since I was 18. In August of 2011, with no connections and no friends in town, I moved to Nashville, Tennessee where I rented a room on the north side of town, next to a cemetery.
I played writers rounds at Bluebird, Douglas Corner, Loft Hotel, became a regular at an odd 24 hour joint called Cafe CoCo, and tried handing off my four song record I made just before coming to anyone who would listen. Incredibly, Nashville’s independent radio station, Lightning 100, picked up the first song and put me on as the featured artist of the week that first November. I was picked up for a tour in Texas and co-wrote songs with a band that would go on to be released on Island records.
There was one afternoon when they had me over to the band house on Archer Street. Everyone gathered into the front room and the three band members took the couch. I took a wooden chair from the kitchen and pulled it into the room, square with the couch.
“What would you think of joining the band?”
We played well together, and we wrote well together. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. There was clearly a chemistry. It only took me seconds to realize what was at stake, and I made my decision quickly. I came to Nashville to make it with my own music and my own songs.
My little record was acoustic, top to bottom. I played all the instruments from banjo to upright bass, mandolin and acoustic guitar. Down in Nashville, all the friends I made were drummers and electric bassists, keyboardists and electric guitar players. So, I went electric. Like Bob Dylan said in ‘Dont Look Back’ when an English fan asked why he went electric, "I have to give some work to my friends. You don't mind that, right?" We played some great shows and had some nice write-ups on local music blogs. The future was bright.
Time passed. I got hired to play bass on a good paying tour, with hotel rooms every night. I met a girl and fell in love. I had a day job making websites. We bought a house. The weeks went by quietly. In the winter months Nashville gets dark by about 4:30. It makes it pretty easy to stay home most nights when the wind blows cold, and it’s pitch black outside before you make it through your own front door. You say to yourself that you could see what’s happening at the club down the street, or you could get spend the night on the couch with Netflix and a bag of potato chips. You could book some shows, or you could check Facebook again.
Next thing I knew it was my birthday, and I started thinking about my age. I started thinking about when I moved to Nashville, and why I was out here so far from my home, my family, and all that’s familiar. Where the housing market has gone through the roof, and it’s hard to make close friends because all your friends are either on the road, or have already moved to the next fashionable city. Where you step out of your front door in the summer and wade through the bottom of the hot tub that is the humidity of the Cumberland basin where Nashville lies.
You’re either building your own dream, or you’re working to build someone else’s dream, right? So, I gave up the tour. I gave up the day job. I gave up the quiet nights at home. I just can’t give up chasing the dream. I wish I were farther along in making it a reality, but there are things I had to learn and things I had to leave along the way. There was a confidence I lacked that I had to find. My wife, Mallory, is the best encouragement I’ve ever had. When I talk about the struggle to make it, and the internal conflict I have in believing that it’s worthwhile, she’s moved to tears. She knows me more intimately than my parents or my sister, and she’s not afraid to tell me when I’m not good at something. She’s not afraid to tell me a song I wrote is boring, or that it’s just bad. Somehow this level of intimacy and honesty is what has given me the confidence I need to overcome the biggest obstacle I face. Me, of course.
‘Blame The Miles Between’ is where I yell in the mirror at myself. “Stop wasting time! Stop wishing things were different. Stop imagining the life you want, and go make it! Get over yourself!” Sometimes that yelling sounds like lush 3 part harmony and fingerpicked guitar. Later it might sound like explosive drums and dueling guitar solos soaring over a blues-soaked landscape of haunting keyboards and crunchy guitars. I just love the sound of American roots music, and if you do, too, I think you’ll like it. I think you’ll like where I’ll take you. And, if you see me out on the road, know that I’m working up a good answer to the question, “Have you seen anything?”
