we are the tide

I was pretty darn excited yesterday to get a glimpse inside the studio for the new Blind Pilot album, due September 13th. This is probably one of my most highly anticipated sophomore records from a band in a long time (except maybe The Head and The Heart, but patience is a virtue). Blind Pilot released their thoroughly superb, smokily-shaded debut album 3 Rounds and a Sound in 2008 — I loved it then and it has held fast as a favorite. Singer Israel Nebeker’s voice holds such a rich and knowing sweetness, and the themes of the album swim deep in veins of love and loss.

The new album is named after a song “We Are The Tide” that first surfaced live last year, and that I featured happily on my Autumn Leaves/Autumn Stays mix. There is something deeply autumnal about Blind Pilot, at least to my ears, so I can’t wait until this September. We’re trying to get them in for a Chapel Session this fall as well, so stay tuned. I can hardly imagine anything nicer.

We Are The Tide (live in Portland) – Blind Pilot

distance has no way of making love understandable

A few days after I got back from my own soul-refreshing weekend in the stunning musical hamlet of Telluride, my good friend and music buddy Dainon took off from Florida for the Solid Sound Festival in western Massachusetts, curated by our beloved Wilco. This is a festival I have wanted to go to since I heard of its inception last year, but the timing is never quite right.

So when Dainon wrote out this lovely reflection for me about the festival, I decided I had to post them up as a guest review for the weekend-that-wasn’t for me. It’s almost as good as being there. Enjoy.

PS – damn my friends can write purdy!

HEY, YOU, GET ON TO MY CLOUD
How Wilco saved the music festival.
by guest contributor Dainon Moody

At some point last year, I took it upon myself to swear off music festivals. The reason? I got old. My back hurt too much and they were way too long and camping in a hailstorm sure sucked on toast. I would no longer dedicate chunks of my calendar and paycheck and the soft parts of my feet to proving my worth as a music listener. I’d had enough! Festivals were the blockbuster films of the music industry and all I wanted was more dialogue, less in-my-face effects and a quality story.

And then Doe Bay sold me with a single recap video. And then I learned I could take a water taxi from the airport to the Newport Folk Festival for a whole 10 hard-earned dollars and have Gillian Welch offer up some lullabies. And then Wilco went and reinvented how a few days of music and celebration ought to happen, simply because they’ve reached the point in their career that they could and can. They built it last year and the Wilco fanatics came in droves. They did it again this year, it poured down big buckets of rain the entire time and the Wilco fanatics smiled Cheshire grins, bought $2 garbage bag ponchos, sang along and danced in the mud puddles.

So, what I’m saying is, logic came into play. Viewing myself as one of those highly sensible sorts, it made sense, in the absence of the band having a new album out (three months!), to go see them perform a couple times in as many days on their own terms, along with a handful of their more musically-inclined friends. It made sense for them to finally have their own label and that they’d chosen an art museum to play in and that they did so in the quiet picturesque Mayberry of a town of North Adams, MA. Why not, right?

So I did it. And it was just a pleasure to see Jeff Tweedy give us a couple of the best shows I’ve been a witness to. Most tender “Reservations” ever heard. Loudest “Misunderstood” ever displayed. And, in what may be one of my favorite Wilco moments ever, having the microphone give out just before the end of “Radio Cure” on account of a thunder clap, causing all the thousands of wet attendees there to scream out the ending when Tweedy’s couldn’t be heard, no prompting whatsoever —“Distance has no way of making love understandable!” — it made for a long, beautiful moment. It even caused him to respond with, “You know, maybe that ought to happen more often.”

Also, can I just say that there are few more satisfying things in live music (and especially while taking in the many varied sounds that make up the collective that Wilco is) than experiencing Nels Cline making his guitar speak? Some songs in the catalog exist simply as bookends to his guitar solo; the singing, the drumming, the lights are simply there to house his shaking and squeezing the right sounds out of it.

When there wasn’t music, there was art (live silkscreening, installations throughout the MASS MoCA, The Impossible Project wandering around), where there wasn’t art, there was really good food (vegetarians openly rejoiced) and, when there wasn’t any of that, there was a grizzled old volunteer of a band follower to tell you exactly when he first saw Wilco and details for that and the seven shows to follow that glorious moment in time.

Of course, there were other bands, too. There was Philadelphia’s Purling Hiss (where three Wilco members were quickly spotted in the crowd), Sarah Lee Guthrie & Johnny Irion stomp-clapping and singing and playing acoustically on a raised wooden indoor stage, the brand of happiness preaching that is JC Brooks & The Uptown Sound, Liam Finn with dual thundering drums (Glenn Kotche helping out on a second), Jamie Lidell offering up his wry humor with his rendition of “Like A Bridge Over Troubled Water” making its way round the raindrops and The Handsome Family plunking their way through engaging tunes of suicide, drinking too much wine on Christmas and lovelorn puddles (yes, really).

There was more, too. There was “California Stars” playing at the ticket booth. There were kids flying homemade kites up and down hills, bits of cotton floating through the air like lazy snowflakes. There were clouds so close and surrounding the area that it felt like we may as well be resting atop a big, cushy pile of them. Do I digress? Yes. And purposefully so.

In essence, what Jeff Tweedy and his cohorts did was not just play the pied pipers to see who would gather around their feet, but they reinvented the festival as we’ve come to know it. They took the parts that they didn’t much care for and improved on them, offering sandpaper for the roughest edges. This wasn’t so much a rock concert as it was a carefully created community, one that lasted a few glorious days long.

If I were the demanding sort, I’d want the band to know that, having booked a flight (a solo flight, no less) to Albany, renting a car and driving the couple hours to North Adams, sleeping in the car in a forest after the downpour didn’t allow me to camp any other way for two nights and then braving lightning and a damaged camera while watching them, well, I’d want them to acknowledge that I’d earned some new stripes as a fan. That I deserved some kind of stars-next-to-my-damn-name recognition, be it a nod from the stage or whatever. But I’m not much the demanding sort. And there are so many others that’d done pretty much the same.

I came, I filled myself up with the goodness of their creation and left a happier, more fulfilled fan of their music and the way they chose to present it to the collected masses and, in effect, the rest of the world. And, as long as other festivals follow suit, I’ll continue to change my misguided ways, promise. I just hope this bit of an extended Thank You card suffices. Wilco, you did good.

Handsome Family

Purling Hiss

we chase misprinted lies

The 1994 Jar of Flies EP from Alice in Chains was a favorite of wee 15-year-old Heather, an alt-country twanged collection of seven songs that melded the moodiness of AIC with occasional pop flourishes (witness “No Excuses”). That album is one of the few from my collection during those high school years that still holds up relatively well (also, my unparalleled artistic skills in drawing the AIC logo in pencil on my binders).

I’m pretty excited to hear Ryan Adams take on “Nutshell” from that EP, the b-side to the tour-only 7″ he is selling on his current European dates. This cover reminds me of some of his haunted 29-era songs. The other side of the single is “Empty Room,” a new tune that finds Ryan and wife Mandy Moore harmonizing.

Nutshell (Alice in Chains) – Ryan Adams


This is also not the first time Ryan has taken on the songs of Staley & Co. He’s a fan.

when when when we’re older / can i still come over?

A flawless open-hearted song: for those easy connections that just keep working, and for being grateful.

In a silent way we lie under heavy drapes
just to mask away the light from the coming day

When, when, when we’re older
can I still come over
can I still come over?

Milo Greene is from Los Angeles, and this is from their incandescent, hazy-summer feeling Hello Sessions from earlier this year.

[thanks Adam!]

and a river runs through it (Telluride Bluegrass 2011)

Rather than start this post about the Telluride Bluegrass Festival with a picture of an amazing headliner like Mumford & Sons, or the surprise stellar guests like Patty Griffin, I’m going to share that view up above instead: a cell phone snap taken while I sat inside my tent and looked out the zippered door. I think it captures something about this festival that you need to know, as foundation. As enticement to come next year.

I pitched my tent on slanty ground, deciding to sleep on river rocks just so that I could hear that powerfully rushing roar of water as I was falling asleep at night, and first thing when I woke up in the morning. When I rambled through the darkness at 2am each night to my waiting cocoon of nylon and synthetic down, I’d sit for a good half hour on the banks, just watching the water that came from far away and was heading who-knows-where, as the moon glinted off the fast-moving surface. I felt a deep peace, and a happiness.

After ogling the lineup of performers and arriving into the stunning natural beauty of the town (last year was my virgin year), the first thing you notice about Telluride Bluegrass Festival is that it is inherently different. People at this one are nicer. Strangers stop to both secure your unattended tent when it’s about to succumb to the ferocious winds and blow into the river (happened to me), and also when you are struggling to lug all your stuff out to where the carpool is going to meet (ditto). The staffers might not only watch your gear, but move it under a tarp when the skies open up and the rains begin. The bus driver loops back around once he’s off duty in the wee hours of the morning, because he hears on his radio that a gal needed a ride. Things like this strike me as exceedingly rare in this world of music festivals, and deeply appreciated.

I tell you all these things not to brag about what a goddamn nice weekend I just had, but to set the stage for the sorts of musical chemistry that spark effortlessly and burn glowing-orange within this fertile laboratory of music. All weekend long you’ll see musicians peppering each others’ sets, stepping off the stage to perform in the round, and just smiling a whole lot. Although my friends who bring in the acts have a keen ear for what works (old standards and new exciting acts), I think I would come no matter who was playing.

…So who did play?

These guys: Matthew & The Atlas

Matthew & The Atlas was the best new artist I saw at the festival. I’d written about their song “I Will Remain” many months ago, and listened to it probably a hundred times since then. I have these days where I just park on their MySpace, and blearily stumble out of it three hours (and the same four songs on repeat) later.

Rising out of the same Communion folk scene in London as their peers Mumford and Sons (who attended both Matthew & The Atlas shows I saw), Matt Hegarty’s smoky dark voice is wonderfully evocative, like it knows of sorrows that I haven’t met yet – and I’ve met me a few. It quavers with some echo of ancient wisdom, if that makes sense — like a wizened wizard lives inside this young man. Weird/magic. Plus there are banjo and handclaps and accordion, and prominent female harmonies and countermelodies. I promptly bought all three of the EPs they had for sale after the show. It’s been too long since I’ve let myself do that. Take me back to when the night was young, and another song was sung.

I Will Remain – Matthew & The Atlas

Worth waking up for

Two morning sets blew the early-riser Telluride crowd away, and both happen to be two of my personal favorites. The Head and The Heart were the first act I saw at Telluride this year, a fresh and crisp noontime set on Thursday, while Joe Pug played even earlier the next day, while the dew was still on the lawn. There may be nothing nicer in this world than hearing Joe Pug’s harmonica ringing out at 10am on a clean and bracing mountain morning, or watching THATH stomp and laugh and echo those three-part harmonies back off the rocky mountains all around us. Both acts did a fantastic job of converting the audience all around me with their smart songwriting and contagious passion for music. Previously unknown to most of the seasoned bluegrass crowd, I heard both names on everyone’s lips for the duration of the festival.

Hymn #101 – Joe Pug (how do you not have this song yet?! get it)

Looks like he would win a knife fight

This was my first experience seeing Steve Earle live. I deeply respect his music and songwriting, but had never before witnessed his live set. He performed with his wife Allison Moorer (“did I marry out of my league, or what?!” he asked), and I was surprised at the soft incisiveness of his performance. He looks hardened, but life seems to have worn off the painful edges and left this rich and gorgeous beauty in his music. I foresee myself entering a large Steve Earle period.

Amazing ladies unite

And YEAH, I got to see some of the most amazing women in my musical lexicon all in one weekend. I was mesmerized by Emmylou Harris (as I stood next to Marcus Mumford for it, both of us just beaming at her folksinging glory), then Patty Griffin just dropped on in unannounced for the Sunday morning gospel hour. Griffin has written some of my absolute favorite songs, including “Mary” (which KILLS me, EVERY single time) and “Top of the World.” She performed “Heavenly Day” — and it was.

Hearing the silvery-voiced Sarah McLachlan both made me feel very, very fifteen again, but also reminded me how many songs she has written that I’ve loved and not listened to in forever: “Path of Thorns (Terms),” “Good Enough,” “Hold On” — I surprised myself with the quantity of singing along I was doing. Her performance was strong and vibrant, and induced at least one of my 20-something year old male friends to go home and download her greatest hits album at 3:00am. But I won’t name names.

I would study vocab cards every night for you, Colin

Let’s just set this straight. Even though I know that frontman Colin Meloy of The Decemberists is happily married to a talented lady and has a kiddo, I could stand all day blossoming under the quenching rain of his perfect vocabulary. I’m a sucker for smarts and wit. It leads to marvelous music, and their show was a delight. Surveying the Telluride crowd, he praised us: “each man more rugged than the next, each woman more sundressed and sunkissed than the next.”

All the songs from The King Is Dead (one of the best albums of 2011 thus far for me) seemed custom-penned to be performed in a setting like Telluride. It is the rootsiest of the Decemberists albums for a while, maybe ever, and the harmonica and fiddle felt right at home. Bela Fleck joined Colin for a (fake) dueling banjos challenge (to “win Telluride”), while Benmont Tench and Jerry Douglas also came out for the final song, a cover of “When U Love Somebody” by The Fruit Bats.

So so so good.

When U Love Somebody (Fruit Bats) – The Decemberists

Final explosion of awesome

I don’t know why I thought that Mumford and Sons was not going to impress me again. So I’m figuring: I first saw them at SXSW 2009, at a small but hyper-potent daytime set at Maggie Mae’s outdoor stage. Having already been smitten by their songs, I fell instantly for their live show: “I felt more like me, only better, when their set spun off at full tilt. Jawdroppingly pure.” I named that set one of my favorite concerts of SXSW and the entire year. Last year at Telluride, they completely blew me away again – their very first show on Colorado soil, and everyone in the Sheridan Theater was singing at the top of their lungs, stomping so hard the floorboards shook. It felt like a secret exploding. I still get chills to think of it.

I was blind to my jadedness that assumed since they are huge on the radio now, since everyone seems to know their songs, that somehow their live show would have changed, becoming more diluted and sterilized. I could NOT have been more wrong, or more arrogant perhaps, to think so. They were completely incredible, playing in the pouring rain on Sunday night. It was the last show I saw (sorry, Robert, we had to get home ahead of the snow), and one of the most memorable. As the Punch Brothers played their set before the Mumfords (and covered Josh Ritter!), a frigid, steadily-increasing rain fell without ceasing, running in rivulets between my shoulder blades and dripping off the ends of my sweater sleeves. All the smart people pulled out their ponchos (me: not smart) and the audience turned into a sea of plastic primary colors. We shivered and were absolutely miserable.

But when Mumford & Sons took the stage, the crowd galvanized into one teeth-chattering supernova, singing with our heads back (“and Iiiiiiiii will hold on hope, and Iiiiiiii won’t let you choke / …and Iiiiiiiiii’ll find strength in pain and Iiiiii……”), dancing our frozen asses off. Not only was their set terrific (including Bela Fleck, Jerry Douglas, Abigail Washburn coming out to play along), but they still retain all the passion that made me love them in the first place.

For someone who has played as many shows as these guys have, it was truly something exceptional. I saw our rain-soaked joy reflecting back off their faces, and it was a wonderful way to end Telluride 2011.

Come to this festival next year.

Oh — and finally, should I introduce her to Isaac from Sasquatch?

SEE ALL MY PICTURES HERE.

sound is the blood between me & you

Holy wow. The ladies of WILD FLAG have knocked it clean out of the park with their new single, “Romance.” Yep — a baseball metaphor for this summer song:

It’s unrelenting from the opening guitar chords and Janet Weiss’s tremendously fierce drums, but playfully engaging. WILD FLAG dropped my jaw at SXSW, the band of kickass women featuring Carrie Brownstein, Janet Weiss, Mary Timony, and Rebecca Cole. All told, they’ve been in bands like Sleater-Kinney, Quasi, Helium, The Minders, and Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks.

Longtime friends, these four are formidably awesome in their new concoction. They get everything right here – the catchy lilting feminine vocals press aggressively right up against the wall of drums and squalling guitar. There’s handclaps, and shake-shimmy-shake, and ROCK.

Their self-titled album is out September 13 on Merge Records, and you can pre-order it now. They’re also on tour – you need to go:

WILD FLAG TOUR DATES
June 24 – Calgary, AL Sled Island
June 25 – Calgary, AL Sled Island
July 22 – Chicago, IL Subterranean
July 23 – Chicago, IL Wicker Park Festival
Aug 12 – Brooklyn, NY Wmsburg Waterfront w/ Sonic Youth
Oct 3 – Minneapolis, MN Varsity Theatre
Oct 4 – Omaha, NE Waiting Room
Oct 5 – Kansas City, MO Record Bar
Oct 7 – Champaign, IL High Dive
Oct 9 – Chicago, IL Empty Bottle
Oct 10 – Cleveland, OH Grog Shop
Oct 11 – Toronto, ON Lee’s Palace
Oct 14 – Boston, MA Paradise
Oct 15 – Brooklyn, NY Bell House
Oct 16 – Hoboken, NJ Maxwell’s
Oct 18 – New York, NY Bowery Ballroom
Oct 19 – Philadelphia, PA Union Transfer
Oct 20 – Washington, DC Black Cat
Oct 21 – Carrboro, NC Cat’s Cradle
Oct 22 – Athens, GA 40 Watt
Oct 24 – Birmingham, AL Bottletree
Oct 26 – New Orleans, LA One Eyed Jacks
Oct 29 – Austin, TX Emo’s
Oct 31 – Tempe, AZ Rhythm Room
Nov 1 – San Diego, CA Casbah
Nov 2 – Los Angeles, CA Troubadour
Nov 3 – Los Angeles, CA Troubadour
Nov 4 – San Francisco, CA Great American Music Hall
Nov 5 – San Francisco, CA Great American Music Hall
Nov 7 – Arcata, CA Humboldt State
Nov 9 – Portland, OR Doug Fir
Nov 10 – Portland, OR Doug Fir
Nov 11 – Seattle, WA Neumo’s
Nov 12 – Vancouver, BC Biltmore Cabaret

guest feature on Lollapalooza.com

Are you one of the thousands of people that will flood into Grant Park in Chicago this August for Lollapalooza? I haven’t been myself since the year that Soundgarden and Rancid played in 1996, but will be sending an awesome writer to cover it for me this year. Not surprisingly, I also have opinions on which bands I would see if I were making the trip in person.

I’ve written these opinions and recommendations up for the folks at Lollapalooza, and I am featured this week as the guest blogger on their site. Go read my picks! And for the love of god, hydrate out there. Chicago in August is not for wussies.

i still got the keys to let it ride

It’s early. The birds are chirping. The bags are packed (minus the sweet new camping gear I ordered, which Amazon.com is holding hostage) and the sold-out 38th annual Telluride Bluegrass Festival begins tomorrow. Today is a day for cars full of friends driving along the Arkansas River on our way into the mountain haven of Telluride.

The Denver Post’s Reverb music writers and I will be sharing a ride over the hills, and, because I have found my people (who TRULY UNDERSTAND WHAT IS IMPORTANT), we have made a collaborative mix to bring in the car and feature on both our sites. Because that is what music writers do when faced with a daunting task. We work together and make a mix; ten songs each.

These songs are a little rootsy, some about travel, many about summer, and most about love.

And yes, I do fully comprehend the cruel irony of a roadtrip driving mix only being available in a streaming format.

THE ROAD TO TELLURIDE TRACKLIST

Side A: Fuel/Friends
1. “Let It Ride” – Ryan Adams & The Cardinals
2. “Stop The Bus” – Grace Potter & the Nocturnals
3. “July 4, 2004″ – Jason Anderson
4. “Can’t Hardly Wait” – The Replacements
5. “Another Travelin’ Song” (live) – Bright Eyes
6. “Unless It’s Kicks” – Okkervil River
7. “We’re All Stuck Out In The Desert” – Johnathan Rice
8. “Penny On The Train Track” – Ben Kweller
9. “Walt Whitman Bridge” – Marah
10. “You Are The Everything” (R.E.M) – Redbird

Side B: Reverb
1. “The Modern Age” – The Strokes
2. “Louisiana” – The Walkmen
3. “That’s Not The Issue” – Wilco
4. “Poor Man” – Old Crow Medicine Show
5. “Wide Open Road” – Johnny Cash
6. “Arms Like Boulders” – The War On Drugs
7. “Freak Train” – Kurt Vile
8. “Lost Highway” – Hank Williams
9. “The Mountain” – Steve Earle & the Del McCoury Band
10. “Pretty Girl From Cedar Lane” – The Avett Brothers

I’ll be updating my Twitter and other social media-type things from the festival as connectivity allows (I believe you will be able to stream the festival on KOTO.org!), and I will be back next week, sated with all that good music ringing in my ears.

[top image: U.S. Route 285 South, just over Kenosha Pass. Photo by John Hendrickson. Photo illustration by Marc Hobelman, Denver Post]

not one good reason left to keep me / but please don’t let me go

Bryan John Appleby crafts thoughtful, melodic music about complicated relationships and desires, from his home in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle. The singer-songwriter path is well-trod in every city, and Seattle is no different, but Bryan sets his music on a higher plane with the incisively intelligent way that he can wrap words around a tenuous moment. He said in an interview, “I write my best when I’m reading lots of books and listening to lots of bands and songwriters.” I think that comes through in his music, with a variety of historical, literary, spiritual, and relational groundings. It’s no wonder I fell for him.

My first listens of this song reminded me of the best, most achingly open parts of Blind Pilot songs. This is a song about the tension and the gulf between wanting someone and actually having them. There is SO much raw vulnerability in the way Bryan sings “not one good reason left to keep me / but please don’t let me go.” I am reminded of the old adage about how we need love the most when we deserve it the least.

Every line in this song seems to strip something in me bare, like when he sings, “I am roaming through the darkness, I am rambling through the night / I will find you soon my darling, be sure and hold the light.” Have you read No Country for Old Men? If so, this reminds me of the last page.

Fixin to make a fire somewhere out there in all that dark and all that cold….

Cliffs Along The Sea – Bryan John Appleby

And the gorgeous video for this song, by Christian Sorensen Hansen (who made this and this also), with Bryan singing on a lake whilst being paddled around by a harmonizing Mychal from Campfire OK:

[so pretty that you should watch it larger]

I had the distinct pleasure of seeing Bryan perform live last Friday night at the High Dive in Seattle, with a full backing band. The words I used afterwards were: “decimatingly muscular.” KEXP’s Hannah Levin called him “One To Watch” in the Seattle Weekly last summer, and finally getting to see him live myself, I completely agree. As well-crafted and piercing as the EP is, hearing the new material and seeing how his songs catalyze and explode in the live setting got me very excited for his upcoming full-length release, Fire On The Vine.

Bryan just launched a Kickstarter campaign yesterday to help fund the final steps of this new album. The songs are done being recorded, and he just needs advance commitment from folks who want to have it when it is released (on vinyl too!). As a refresher: Kickstarter is a rad way for lovers of music to commit in advance to the album that is yet to come, and in doing so get some sweet perks (a mixtape from Bryan! a handwritten letter! a personalized cover!).

I recommend you support this worthy artist who has something true and beautiful to say.

Also, hey — he’ll be playing at the Doe Bay Fest in August, for those of us who are lucky enough to be heading to Orcas Island! So get excited.

Fuel/Friends Chapel Session #4 :: Strand of Oaks

I try real hard not to peg musicians based on appearance, but when you meet Strand Of Oaks for the first time (aka Tim Showalter) you can’t help feel that he should maybe have a CB radio handle and/or make music that sounds like The Allman Brothers. But then he wraps you in a big bear hug and you learn that he used to be a second-grade teacher, and you realize he is a study in contrasts.

His music made my jaw drop the first time he heard it live, there in the church. It was completely unexpected. I am not savvy in the use of pedals and effects in music; as far as I am concerned, it may as well be magic. From the first song “Kill Dragon” that Tim played in the big gorgeous church, there was this polyphonic, shimmering wall of sound that he created with just him and his guitar. It sounded like a thousand pipe organs, or angels, or something extraordinary.

As I interpret it, this first song is about wrestling with talking to a God that seems to have vanished: “Lately he hasn’t been listening to me / I guess he’s a man and he’s meant to leave.” In the void he’s left, Tim traces the litany of things that have gone awry in his life (deaths, sickness) and says he is coming up with an interesting new prayer – to run away with Mary. A little surprised the walls of the church didn’t like, you know, crumble all around us.

Tim writes thoughtful, piercing songs about sleeplessness, faith, and that which we’ve lost. This music is mesmerizing.

CHAPEL SESSION: STRAND OF OAKS
Kill Dragon
End in Flames
The Golden Age (Beck)

ZIP: STRAND OF OAKS CHAPEL SESSION

If you like this music, check out Strand of Oaks’ haunting, gorgeously wrought album Pope Killdragon, and his cover of Joe Pug’s “Hymn #101.” Tim also sang on that cover of “Hard Life” with Joe Pug in this same chapel session.

ALSO: That Beck cover he did reminds me of the version that Beck himself did, also in a chapel – Union Chapel in London.