This song isn't autobiographical, but it's a retelling of a story I heard.
lyrics
He'd an old-fashioned way when he started to play
He'd an old-fashioned steel guitar
With no amps and no leads, it fulfilled all his needs
And together they'd both travelled far
Just an old troubadour on an old bar-room floor
Just an old troubadour and his song
But it tore them apart,'cause it came from his heart
And they'd not heard that art for so long
Then a kid playing pool said “this old man's a fool
He's not cool, just a ghoul past his prime”
So he walked to the wall where the jukebox stood tall
And he paid for some hits of the time
Then a girl passed him by with a look in her eye
That said don't even try to oppose
Pulled the plug from the wall said "An ass needs a stall
And we all hope you've got one of those"
She stood her ground, she stared him down
The kid raised a fist, then he smiled
He said "You're wasted on him"
Then he turned with a grin
And said "Girls like you drive me wild
You're young enough to be the old man's child"
When the kid left the room, a chord filled the gloom
And a voice sang a song for the stars
For the breeze in the trees, for nights such as these
And for girls who find lovers in bars
And when the chord died like a wave on the tide
Like the cry from a high flying bird
He put down his guitar, she said "I've got my car
And a jar, if you'll just say the word"
So that old troubadour left that old bar-room floor
Yes that old troubadour sang her song
And it tore her apart, 'cause it came from his heart
And she'd not felt that art for so long
"Dustups" continues Body Surfer’s exploration of intimacy and personal history, rich acoustic folk deep in meaning. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 24, 2021
This New Haven duo write bright and emotionally resonant folk music where sweeping strings elevate gorgeous melodies. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 23, 2021