The morning of Session #4 was something awful getting started, camera batteries dying and extension cords failing, but when the burley gusts of the grim reaper started ripping through my hair, all the turmoil was worth it. For in the call of a sailor lost to the weather something serious was to be said.

Nate Jenkins would say it. Let me introduce him. Read the rest of this entry »

Paul. There’s something about Paul that’s different. Besides being as cozy as a cup of cocoa in the hands of a loved one on a Christmas hearth, he’s got this extra homestyle, relax and roll with it even through a nuclear war ambiance that’s all his own. Not just everyone would plop a busted chair on an oriental rug in the belly of a steeple, call out some chords to a head bobbing bassist, and participate in what the organist is calling “real swampy.” Read the rest of this entry »

Friday evening took our inaugural journey west into Wisconsin. From rolling rock pastures, the cheese state’s bovine population watched our convoy of crew and band equipment cut through a golden cloud on a ruddy sunset. In the Midwest, that rising, yellow dust of combines told us of Fall’s arrival. It seemed a God-blessed and fitting contrast to the new birth and dawn of the first documented Into the Hill session. Read the rest of this entry »