the rooms that i live in...

Sometimes I find I get to thinking of the past.
We swore to each other then that our love would surely last.
You kept right on loving, I went on a fast,
now I am too thin and your love is too vast.

But I know from your eyes
and I know from your smile
that tonight will be fine,
will be fine, will be fine, will be fine
for a while.

I choose the rooms that I live in with care,
the windows are small and the walls almost bare,
there's only one bed and there's only one prayer;
I listen all night for your step on the stair.

But I know from your eyes
and I know from your smile
that tonight will be fine,
will be fine, will be fine, will be fine
for a while.

Oh sometimes I see her undressing for me,
she's the soft naked lady love meant her to be
and she's moving her body so brave and so free.
If I've got to remember that's a fine memory.

And I know from her eyes
and I know from her smile
that tonight will be fine,
will be fine, will be fine, will be fine
for a while.




I was a teenager when I first heard the sound that would remain in my head. it was deep and resonant, yet light and freeing. There were literate words, lilting fiddle and soaring choral notes. It was Leonard Cohen at the Isle of Wight festival… only later would I know the context. The violence and discord that had taken place, the early morning calm the music brought. This was Britain’s answer to Altamont, an indication that maybe that generation couldn’t quite handle the new emotions they brought to the standing culture. Their decade was ending in dissonance but this sound would always stay with me.
Country music had only recently been embraced by the rock poets, a natural occurrence based on their folk roots and one that would bring celebration and release to add to the angst and dissolution of the times. It was a perfect fit, at least to my ears, as well as to many others. Other musical movements would come and go, to move me and bear their influence. Punk and post punk rebelled against the recent past but ultimately embraced the roots of the music, from the Clash to Elvis Costello and the Mekons. And many more. A new American roots delegation was not far behind. In the 90’s, the alt country movement would save my musical soul again. Whiskeytown, Uncle Tupelo, Blue Mountain. Later Son Volt and Drag the River. So many more.
I would continue to hear glimpses of what had affected me in the first place again over the years. Joe Henry’s early work with the Jayhawks. Will Oldham’s Sings Palace Music… a juxtaposition of what? Dark and light, fever and relief, foreboding and release?
Just last year I purchased the performance that had moved me so...on Blu Ray disc of course...and watched it transpire, alive in my living room...…. listened to the union of poetry and roots musicians,(including Bob Johnston and Charlie Daniels) and felt that tonight, tonight will be fine, will be fine, will be fine….for awhile……