dhanners623

Thanks. Still editing. Then I think of James McMurtry and think, “Why make it shorter? Flesh it out in all its gory glory.”

Thanks for the kind words. I’m now down the rabbit hole of experimenting with different versions and trying to figure out which I like best. I’ve got a version with the victims’ names, one without, one that turns the “Prairie winds cut so cold…” verse into a chorus and one edited down to 96 words. For the record, here is the 96-word version. I think it needs the verse explaining the “perfect crime” motive, but I was just experimenting. Fields of Stubble Straw © 2024 by David Hanners Jerry Darling and Wesley Hall Were honest, good and sound Died in a crime that had no reason or rhyme On a hog farm south of town Two half-wits they worked with Shot Hall and Darling dead Stole 400 bucks and Darling’s pickup truck And away they fled The dime-store Dillingers sped south On their flight from the law Run out of luck trying to repaint that truck Next day down in Oklahoma Those prairie winds cut so cold In winter, they chaff you raw Leaves you low and dying In a field of stubble straw

I think I figured out the verse: Told the cops they schemed to commit the perfect crime Can’t blame booze or meth for those awful deaths On that hog farm east of Route 49

I can see what you’re saying re: “They talk…” — up to a point. My aim in using it was to give a nod to the folk tradition of foretelling in the first verse. Plus, it understands the listener is not in the song’s locale, but explains that if he/she were, the murders are what some people might be talking about. It puts them on the same page as the townsfolk. That said, while waiting for my set this afternoon (more on that in a moment) I was thinking about your comment re: Was committing the perfect crime really the motive? It made me think that while that is an important aspect of the case, the song just gives it one line. Plus, the third and fourth lines of that verse — “Like Stupid met Evil and had a child/On that hog farm east of Route 49” — have always bothered me. The third line particularly sounds like just an attempt to be cute, and not a very good one at that. So when I got home, I experimented with replacing those two lines with, “They weren’t drunk or high, it was just the way they are/And somebody had to die.” I’m going to work on it some more to try and develop an internal rhyme in the third line, but I like the concept. Anyway, I did the song at the show and it went over really well. I did the version with the “In my hometown….” first verse and the song didn’t seem too long because of it. Plus, that verse eases you into the next verse, whose first line introduces the victims. This way, the listener isn’t confronted with two names of people they don’t know right off the bat. With the “hometown” verse before it, you’re given a sense they’re characters in the crime story. It’s getting there….

That’s a possibility. The crime happened in January, which is always pretty dismal in that part of Illinois. In fact, in an earlier version of the song, the first verse was “In my hometown of Casey, Illinois/‘Neath a January sky so gray/They talk of a crime so bad/It chills me to this day.” Then it went into the “Jerry Darling and Wesley Hall….” verse. While the “In my hometown…” verse served the folk-song purpose of foreshadowing, I cut it out of a concern for length. Maybe it should go back in. Being a folkie, I get self-conscious about length because I’ve heard too many folksingers (and others) drone on for seven or eight verses when a tightly written five would’ve told the story just as well. I’m on the bill of a showcase at a tavern in downtown Manchester today; I was going to do the song and maybe I’ll throw the old first verse back on. Also on the bill is an Americana act from Liverpool, of all places. It’ll blow their minds….

Everything I’ve read or heard locally says as hard as it is to believe, they just thought they could pull off the perfect crime. (Don’t expect rational thinking from irrational people….) From all indications, the killers were actually friends with the victims and there was no bad blood. It was payday, and Hall had cashed his paycheck and so they took $400 he had, and they took Darling’s pickup. The sheriff’s department said the “perfect crime” thing was hard to comprehend, but that’s the only explanation the defendants ever gave. They couldn’t pull off a perfect shoplifting of a pack of gum from the town’s lone convenience store. Being a modern hog operation, you had to shower before entering the facility and upon exiting. They shot one of the victims as he was showering. They dumped both the bodies in a retention pond, which is about as despicable as you can get. Here are revised lyrics. They used a .22 rifle; I made up the Ruger part. I’ve emailed the sheriff’s office to see if they remember the make and model. Fields of Stubble Straw © 2024 by David Hanners Jerry Darling and Wesley Hall Were good and honest men Worked a hog farm east of Route 49 That’s where they met their end Two half-wits they worked with had a Ruger .22 Shot Hall and Darling dead Stole 400 bucks and Darling’s truck And away they fled The dime-store Dillingers sped south On their flight from the law Run out of luck trying to repaint that truck Next day down in Oklahoma Told the cops their only aim Was to commit the perfect crime Like Stupid met Evil and had a child On that hog farm east of Route 49 Prairie wind cuts so cold In winter, it chaffs you raw Leaves you low and dying In a field of stubble straw

Man, that ROCKS! Sums up some great memories and I love that chorus. (That said, I hope that after operating on the dog, he cleaned the knife before cutting a slice of pie or your apple. Then again, I know guys like him knew how to take care of a good pocket knife.) That’s a song where all the parts work great together — lyrics, melody, your voice, the instrumental, the sound of the guitar. Well done!

I go back and forth on the names, frankly. The pros of using them is it tells you who the song is about. It puts names on the victims and gives some personality/humanity beyond “two guys.” It adds a sense of realism. There are cons, too. From purely a songwriting standpoint, being specific with the names adds more information for the listener to process, so you have to weigh whether that information is worth it. As with writing a news story, you have to make an editorial judgment about the information’s relevance. Another consideration — and this comes from having grown up in that small town — is that the victims’ families are still alive, as are two of the three defendants and the families of all three defendants. Even if I change the names, people in that town will know who/what the song is about. When I was reporting stories dealing with violent deaths, I always tried hard to be sensitive to the feelings of families. It’s just the human thing to do. The matter of the female lookout who was married to one of the killers is a bit easier. She doesn’t add much to the song. She’s paid her debt to society and, from all appearances, appears to be trying to rebuild her life and be a productive member of society. Again, it’s a small town and there are plenty of people there who will never forget or forgive her. My inclination at this point is to keep the victims’ names but ditch the woman.

I’m also toying with a version where I take the victims’ names out and also remove the female. Names — especially of real people — can sometimes be a hindrance, and I was worrying that the woman was one character too many. If you overload a song with thoughts, you’re on shaky ground. And now that I think of it, “Dime-Store Dillingers” would be a good band name…. Fields of Stubble Straw © 2024 by David Hanners There were two guys in my hometown Good and honest men Worked a hog farm east of Route 49 That’s where they met their end Two half-wits they worked with Shot those men dead Stole 400 bucks and a pickup truck And away they fled The dime-store Dillingers sped south On their flight from the law Run out of luck trying to repaint that truck Next day down in Oklahoma Told the cops their plan Was to commit the perfect crime Like Stupid met Evil and had a child On that hog farm east of Route 49 Prairie wind cuts so cold In winter, it chaffs you raw Leaves you low and dying In a field of stubble straw

Thanks. Here are the lyrics: Fields of Stubble Straw © 2024 by David Hanners Jerry Darling and Wesley Hall Were good and honest men Worked a hog farm east of Route 49 That’s where they met their end Two half-wits they worked with and one of their teen brides Shot Hall and Darling dead Stole 400 bucks and Darling’s truck And away they fled Bonnie and the two Clydes sped south On their flight from the law Run out of luck trying to repaint that truck Next day down in Oklahoma They told the cops their only aim Was committing the perfect crime Like Stupid met Evil and had a child On that hog farm east of Route 49 Prairie wind cuts so cold In winter, it chaffs you raw Leaves you low and dying In a field of stubble straw

The short answer is no, I haven’t. The longer answer is I really should. Haven’t thought of them for years but yeah, they’d make a great song. Has anyone written one that you know of? (And you’d be perfect for it, too.) I should look to see if there are any good books on the Shelton Brothers Gang…. UPDATE: Found the book “Bloody Williamson: A Chapter in American Lawlessness” at an online bookstore here in the UK and ordered it. We’ll see what songs spring from it….

Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. Re: technique. I guess I do what I feel works for me; never gave much thought to whether it was “repetitive.” I do rely a lot on palm muting, hammer-ones and pull-offs and whatnot. I think when I play a normal gig there is enough variety and use of dynamics that “repetitiveness” is never a complaint I’ve gotten from audiences or bookers. I strum some songs, I play fingerstyle on some songs. As far as writing style, yeah, I worked as a newspaper reporter for 37 years so the songs have a strong storytelling bent. Details are important because they make the stories more accurate/real. I have sat through too damn many open mics where somebody gets up and sings some obtuse lyrics that only make sense to them and their cat. Their metaphors are nonsensical and don’t register quickly in the brain — and they don’t seem that interested in improving them. And they write yet another song about love/broken hearts/romantic despair, etc. Yeah, I know love makes the world go ‘round, but jeez, come up with a new and different way to tell us about it. Frankly, that’s why I’d rather write songs about interesting/ different people, events, places, times, etc. And a certain number of those people are going to be psychos of one sort or another. I think my songs have subtlety when it is called for. Some of these narratives would leave the listener confused if I relied on innuendo. I want the listener to know exactly what is going on. I’m not a poet. I’m not a Bob Dylan or a Townes Van Zandt, and I would sound silly trying to be. I’m reminded of a Leo Kottke quote from years back about how listeners will forgive a wrong note but they won’t forgive an insincere note. If I try to be overly poetic, it would probably sound insincere. That said, I think at least my last verse is descriptively poetic…. I also have always agreed with one of Rick Rubin’s quotes about creativity: “In terms of priority, inspiration comes first. You come next. The audience comes last.”

Happy new year, everybody. Perfect time for a murder ballad…. Twenty years ago this month, there was a double murder outside of my hometown of 2,400 in rural East Central Illinois. The victims worked at a hog farm — the Moriah Pork Palace — south of town. The killers were two of their co-workers, as well as the wife of one of the co-workers. They stole $400 and one of the victim’s pickups, but theft wasn’t their motive. Their motive: They wanted to pull off the “perfect” crime. These weren’t Illinois’ best and brightest. They fled to some kin in Oklahoma, and promptly told them they needed to repaint the pickup truck because they had killed a couple of people. First Rule of Committing the Perfect Crime: Don’t tell anyone you committed a crime. My late father knew one of the victims well and was pretty shaken up by the crime. One of the gunmen (serving a life sentence now) was the brother of one of my high school classmates, and I once worked with his father. The other assailant apparently died in prison in 2016. I need to research the genealogy but there’s a chance he and I are related. His ex-wife, who served as lookout during the shootings, served her time and last I heard, she was managing the McDonalds in my hometown. Being a small town, some people were grumbling about that. I wrote a song about it some years back but was never crazy about it lyrically or melodically. I pulled it out a couple of days ago and started messing around with it again. Did a lot of cutting. Came up with a whole new melody. Rearranged some verses. Cut some lines and wrote new ones. Gave it a new title. Stuck to three chords and the truth. Grabbed the J-35 and here’s where it stands:

Maybe not exactly on-point, but being someone who holds the guitar left-handed — and plays upside down — I’m probably the last person to ask. When I taught myself to play, I held the guitar in a way that felt natural to me and didn’t really even know I had the guitar upside-down. I don’t know about the neuroscience of guitar playing, but I’m wondering if instead of handedness, it’s a left brain/right brain issue. Two of the best players I’ve ever known personally are left-handed but play right-handed. That said, if a left-handed person told me today that he/she wanted to learn to play the guitar, I’d probably suggest they learn right-handed. For one thing, you’re learning a new skill and creating new pathways in the brain, so it really doesn’t matter. Either way, both hands are learning new things so you might as well play a righthanded guitar because lefty guitars can be hard to come by, although things are better now than they used to be. There’s also the issue of finding teachers.

Congrats on the purchase! There’s something to be said about letting a new guitar settle in, but every guitar is different. And “tweaking” (not “twerking”) is just something we do. That said, don’t reject the Colosi saddle just yet. Instead, maybe wait awhile and then have it installed by a professional repair person. Yeah, I know Bob includes DIY instructions, but a pro might catch something you don’t. I had a Colosi saddle installed on my ‘16 J-35, replacing the Tusq saddle that came with it. (I also had the Tusq nut replaced with an ebony one.) The change in saddle made quite a difference. For one thing, the stock Tusq saddles may be cut for a J-45, but they are still one-size-fits-all. Having one fit precisely to your saddle slot, chosen string gauge, preferred action, etc., can make a difference for the better. Just have fun with the guitar! (And keep it properly humidified….)

And why is that, exactly? I stuck “GHS White Bronze” in the search box and found no other threads….

Never a bad time for RWH, especially when he’s playing an SJ Vintage Sunburst. As for Black Diamond strings, it’s weird. I wanted to get a set for nostalgia purposes to try on a ‘54 Stella H929 parlor I got this fall, and BDs are darn-hard to come by in the UK. A set of mediums through Amazon costs £24, more than $30 at today’s exchange rate. I’d like to try a set, but I don’t want to try them that bad….

Anyone tried GHS White Bronze strings? Thoughts? Pluses? Minuses? Ray Wylie Hubbard is among the people I follow on Facebook. He was musing today about becoming an internet “influencer” so he started name-dropping brands. Said he was heading to the music store to pick up some GHS White Bronze strings. I thought, “Hey, has he just influenced me to try them?” I’ve been using DR Sunbeams on my J-35 but I’ve been looking for something different. Experiences?

That’s a great take on that song. These songs get played so much our brains get numb to them, but you really breathed some life into that one. Excellent!

Saw that last week. We’ve lost a giant, and a generous one at that. I’ve lost count of the times somebody would raise a question here or on some other forum and I’d provide a link to Frank’s discussion of the issue on his website. Some years back, I was wanting to replace the plastic buttons on a set of tuners. I emailed Ford via his website and asked some questions. In less than a day, he replied with a detailed email explaining the process in plain English. He noted what to look out for and told me if I had any more questions, just ask — and to let him know how the job went. It struck me that here I was, some random guy in St. Paul, MN, emailing a world-renown repairman out of the blue and getting a detailed reply that really helped me do the job. For all the complaining we sometimes like to do, there are some really great people in the guitar world….

Thanks. And yeah, I was never able to run fast enough…. For the sake of background, here is the song as it was originally written. I’m ambivalent about the version below. It is longer, but I wonder if the additional lines add anything to the story, other to prove to the listener I know Wabash semi-trailers come in lengths of 48 feet and 52 feet. I’m open to hearing others’ thoughts re: shorter-vs.-longer. Christmas Eve Blues © 2023 by David Hanners It’s 11:42 on a lonely Christmas Eve Night sky sparkles like eyes you once believed Stretch of Texas highway, I'm all by myself Save for a conscience that's guilty as hell Haul my woes behind me like a 48-foot Wabash Hoping over the horizon I’ll find something that’ll last (Chorus) I'm out here on I-10 With the ghost of Christmas past When you're running from your troubles You can never run too fast Through the static comes a preacher from Plaster City, California It's like he's talkin' just to me; Says, "Boy, thought I’d warn ya: “Wide is the road that leads to sin Few who knock on Heaven’s door are worthy to enter in And the drunkard’s hand is like a proverb in the mouth of fools But the lonely and afflicted can lay down and be made new” (chorus) I think of Mary and Joseph out on the road They were the lucky ones ‘cause they knew where they were goin’ We're all just pilgrims on a highway, searchin' for direction Tryin' to fill the empty miles between birth and resurrection All I ask of mercy is bear me on your snowy wings I am a lowly sinner too tired to sleep (chorus)

That’s a road song right there….. My folks used to drive VWs — We had a Beetle at one point in the ‘60s, then a Squareback, then another Bug. From ‘65 to ‘69, my late brother was in the USAF, stationed in Klamath Falls, OR. We’d drive out there every summer and experienced about every mountain road in a VW. And we experienced the wrath of every long-haul trucker, too. My only memories from Texas from that time was that it was HOT. In ‘68, my grandparents came over from the UK for a visit and the five of us drove out to Oregon in a Beetle. It is 2,100 miles from Casey, IL to Klamath Falls, but mom always wanted to see the sights so we never took a direct route there or back home. So imagine four adults (three of whom smoked like smokestacks) and one hefty 13-year-old (me) in a Bug for 5,000 miles or so….

Since it is the holiday season, here is “Christmas Eve Blues.” The backstory as best I remember it: Years ago, I attended a church in St. Paul named House of Mercy. It was a fairly progressive place with a lot of musicians, artists and creatives. The music veered towards what Ralph Stanley termed the old “blood music,” meaning there was none of that horrible contemporary mind-numbing “worship” music. The church had its own record label, House of Mercy Recordings. It released some darn-fine secular records. (As an aside, the church once booked Stanley for a couple of shows. It was a few months before “O Brother, Where Art Thou” came out. After the movie, his fee skyrocketed.) One fall, they announced they were putting out a Christmas album of musicians in the congregation. I sought out the music director and said, “Hey, I’d love to be on it. I’ve got a song that would be perfect!” He informed me they’d already decided who would be on it. I wasn’t one of them. A few weeks later, he called and said they had room for one more song. The space was mine if I wanted it. But, he said, because of deadlines, I’d have to come in and record it the following morning. “Great!” I said. “I’ll be there!” There was only one problem. I had overstated things somewhat when I had said, “I’ve got a song that would be perfect.” I had no song. I hung up the phone and realized I had less than 24 hours to write and edit a Christmas song. “Christmas Eve Blues” is what I came up with. I recalled the lonely stretch of I-10 between San Antonio and El Paso. Miles of flat nothing. So I stuck the song’s protagonist on the road. (Songwriter’s Tip: When in doubt, place your song’s protagonist in Texas and, for good measure, throw in a phrase or two from the Bible. The latter is a tip from Woody Guthrie and even though I committed to Islam several years ago, I still do it from time to time. Like Guthrie, I do it because it’s a language everyone seems to know.) The original version had three verses of six lines each; this edits the verses down to four lines each. And yeah, no Gibson content. I’m playing the song on a Chicago-built 1954 Stella H929, the same model Elvis played in “Jailhouse Rock.” The ladder bracing provides just the hoarse, dry tone the song needs. So Merry Christmas, y’all….

Excellent job! Very economical writing and it tells the story and packs a punch. Your delivery and tempo allow the listener to figure out what’s going on. Bravo!

Thanks! I appreciate it….