Yes, I know, I'm a few days late this month. No, I'm not pregnant, just been busy. Heheheeee...The I chose this month is Coming to Maine. It's the second track on the album and I've thought that it should be the first on several occasions. As my friend Joe mentioned, and I'm paraphrasing here, it rocks. It's a good old rockin' acoustic song and I even play some really simple lead riffs on it. Nothing to brag about but it was fun to record.
I remember recording this as live as possible. I was in the makeshift vocal isolation booth, playing the guitar and singing and Kevin was drumming in the other room. We could see each other through the glass and hear each other through the headphones. Well, we could hear each other through the walls, too. I'm sure there was some sound bleeding but it didn't matter. I later added the bass if I remember correctly.
I used to play this song on my 12 string live but my 12-string doesn't like to go out in the dry winter weather up here. Keeping it in tune is even more of a chore so I just play this on my 6 string. I try to rock it hard, especially when playing the harmonica. A slightly out-of-tune 12 string is exponentially worse when trying to play in tune with a harmonica.
So the meat of the story on writing this song? This is the first song I remember writing in Maine after I'd moved here for more than just a summer job. It was the fall of 2000 and I was living in Augusta. That also made me realize that this is one of the oldest songs on the album. Anyway, I was just out of college and working as a photogrammtric technician. What's that, you say? It's someone who makes maps from aerial photos. While I really liked (like) the guys I worked with, I didn't really dig the job. It was second shift, though, and I worked from 2 to 10:30. I had an idyllic few months, getting out of work at 10:30 or so, heading down to Hallowell, usually to the Wharf, and listening to music until closing around one. Then I'd head home to my small apartment, get out the guitars and a used four track I'd purchased and start playing and writing, and singing quietly. I don't know to this day why none of my neighbors ever complained. There were a few other people in the complex who would come over and hang out, one a fantastic bass player that was going to UMA and studying music. I'd be up until almost dawn on most of those nights, really enjoying playing and trying to figure out the four track. It was a great time, looking back on it.
For those of you who don't know, central Maine, from Augusta/Hallowell down to Portland and south used to have a great music scene. It still might, I haven't been immersed in it in years. You could find live music any and every night of the week at the Wharf in Hallowell. There used to be several great music stores in Augusta and I remember asking the proprietor of Mills Music, long since out of business, about where to go to hear music. The Wharf was out of his mouth before I finished the question. In those days, the Wharf was a smoky dive on the bottom floor of a building in Hallowell. Now it's just a dive. There are a variety of license plates hanging from the old beams, and I'm proud to say that my last Pennsylvania license plate is among them. All the license plates apparently have stories but I doubt anyone remembers them. There were a lot of other places to hear live music, too. Mainely Brews in Waterville still has a great open mic night on Monday nights and I occasionally wander over and play. Other places in Augusta and Hallowell are still keeping it going. Higher Grounds in Hallowell, the Gin Mill and Charlamagne's in Augusta. The Old Goat in Richmond. All great places to hear live, local music. And the Wharf is still around, too. It's funny because I spent some time in Seattle after this and Seattle's music scene had nothing on Maine's. Every band I heard in Seattle seemed to be ripping off Pearl Jam, Nirvana, or Sound Garden, with the exception of a really groove salsa band I heard and a band called Tongue and Groove. Tongue and Groove was from Port Angeles and I met a bunch of there members in a dive bar there on an evening of liberty in 2001. I found out they were playing in Seattle and made it over to the club where they were playing and it was fantastic.
Anyway, as a recent college grad living his dream of moving to Maine, I was blown away by the music I was hearing. On open jam nights, it seemed to me that these guys were coming out of the woods, setting down their chainsaws, and playing some incredible music. It was usually heavily influenced by the blues. I loved it all. I even auditioned for a band. They needed a lead singer and I knew a bunch of their material. I sang with them one night and they turned me down, saying my voice was too clean. What!? Never mind, dudes, you're full of....like a good, clean voice is a bad thing? I digress...
So I wrote this song about a lady I was kind of seeing. I thought we were kind of seeing each other, even though she lived several states away and had no desire of moving to Maine and I had no idea what my desires were at the time, other than the obvious. The song really comes out of my feelings about her and our possible future together. I did meet and hang out with some groovy ladies in Maine at the time. No, I was not really committed to anyone so it didn't matter. I did feel alive, and I pursued the ladies with a vigor that has not happened since. Do you actually believe that? If so, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I'd like to sell you.
This song summed up a lot of me at that time. I was blown away with the everyday experiences I was having. Maine seemed like a foreign place in many ways but I also felt like I'd found somewhere that I fit. I left Maine for awhile but I came back. A cousin explained it to me recently, "You just don't seem to be happy if you're not in Maine..." I like some of the word play in the song. I actually fit the word surmised into the song and it doesn't sound ostentatious. Well, not to me anyway.
Enjoy this song. I hope it paints a picture and creates a mood for you. It always brings back so many memories from a short period of time in my life, memories that have remained vivid after all this time.
I remember recording this as live as possible. I was in the makeshift vocal isolation booth, playing the guitar and singing and Kevin was drumming in the other room. We could see each other through the glass and hear each other through the headphones. Well, we could hear each other through the walls, too. I'm sure there was some sound bleeding but it didn't matter. I later added the bass if I remember correctly.
I used to play this song on my 12 string live but my 12-string doesn't like to go out in the dry winter weather up here. Keeping it in tune is even more of a chore so I just play this on my 6 string. I try to rock it hard, especially when playing the harmonica. A slightly out-of-tune 12 string is exponentially worse when trying to play in tune with a harmonica.
So the meat of the story on writing this song? This is the first song I remember writing in Maine after I'd moved here for more than just a summer job. It was the fall of 2000 and I was living in Augusta. That also made me realize that this is one of the oldest songs on the album. Anyway, I was just out of college and working as a photogrammtric technician. What's that, you say? It's someone who makes maps from aerial photos. While I really liked (like) the guys I worked with, I didn't really dig the job. It was second shift, though, and I worked from 2 to 10:30. I had an idyllic few months, getting out of work at 10:30 or so, heading down to Hallowell, usually to the Wharf, and listening to music until closing around one. Then I'd head home to my small apartment, get out the guitars and a used four track I'd purchased and start playing and writing, and singing quietly. I don't know to this day why none of my neighbors ever complained. There were a few other people in the complex who would come over and hang out, one a fantastic bass player that was going to UMA and studying music. I'd be up until almost dawn on most of those nights, really enjoying playing and trying to figure out the four track. It was a great time, looking back on it.
For those of you who don't know, central Maine, from Augusta/Hallowell down to Portland and south used to have a great music scene. It still might, I haven't been immersed in it in years. You could find live music any and every night of the week at the Wharf in Hallowell. There used to be several great music stores in Augusta and I remember asking the proprietor of Mills Music, long since out of business, about where to go to hear music. The Wharf was out of his mouth before I finished the question. In those days, the Wharf was a smoky dive on the bottom floor of a building in Hallowell. Now it's just a dive. There are a variety of license plates hanging from the old beams, and I'm proud to say that my last Pennsylvania license plate is among them. All the license plates apparently have stories but I doubt anyone remembers them. There were a lot of other places to hear live music, too. Mainely Brews in Waterville still has a great open mic night on Monday nights and I occasionally wander over and play. Other places in Augusta and Hallowell are still keeping it going. Higher Grounds in Hallowell, the Gin Mill and Charlamagne's in Augusta. The Old Goat in Richmond. All great places to hear live, local music. And the Wharf is still around, too. It's funny because I spent some time in Seattle after this and Seattle's music scene had nothing on Maine's. Every band I heard in Seattle seemed to be ripping off Pearl Jam, Nirvana, or Sound Garden, with the exception of a really groove salsa band I heard and a band called Tongue and Groove. Tongue and Groove was from Port Angeles and I met a bunch of there members in a dive bar there on an evening of liberty in 2001. I found out they were playing in Seattle and made it over to the club where they were playing and it was fantastic.
Anyway, as a recent college grad living his dream of moving to Maine, I was blown away by the music I was hearing. On open jam nights, it seemed to me that these guys were coming out of the woods, setting down their chainsaws, and playing some incredible music. It was usually heavily influenced by the blues. I loved it all. I even auditioned for a band. They needed a lead singer and I knew a bunch of their material. I sang with them one night and they turned me down, saying my voice was too clean. What!? Never mind, dudes, you're full of....like a good, clean voice is a bad thing? I digress...
So I wrote this song about a lady I was kind of seeing. I thought we were kind of seeing each other, even though she lived several states away and had no desire of moving to Maine and I had no idea what my desires were at the time, other than the obvious. The song really comes out of my feelings about her and our possible future together. I did meet and hang out with some groovy ladies in Maine at the time. No, I was not really committed to anyone so it didn't matter. I did feel alive, and I pursued the ladies with a vigor that has not happened since. Do you actually believe that? If so, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I'd like to sell you.
This song summed up a lot of me at that time. I was blown away with the everyday experiences I was having. Maine seemed like a foreign place in many ways but I also felt like I'd found somewhere that I fit. I left Maine for awhile but I came back. A cousin explained it to me recently, "You just don't seem to be happy if you're not in Maine..." I like some of the word play in the song. I actually fit the word surmised into the song and it doesn't sound ostentatious. Well, not to me anyway.
Enjoy this song. I hope it paints a picture and creates a mood for you. It always brings back so many memories from a short period of time in my life, memories that have remained vivid after all this time.