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In the Nest and On the Road

LA Record Interview: We Will All Die Happy

January 25, 2010 · 0 comments

Before this interview, I See Hawks in L.A. and L.A. RECORD co-founded the Four Guys for Peace organization, which is dedicated to promoting friendship and brotherhood worldwide by combining strangers with beers. The first meeting was held in Union Station. I See Hawks are marking their tenth anniversary as a band—as the band which spent years playing elevated California country in the side room at the old Cole’s—with a not-hits-but-still-greatest compilation called Shoulda Been Gold out this month. This interview by Chris Ziegler.

Do think there are other dimensions where I See Hawks is colossally, globally successful?
Paul Lacques (guitar): I’ve had a very schizophrenic life. Creativity fills anything—it goes with anything.
Rob Waller (guitar/vocals): Especially if you have to pee. My wife has a theory—every bottle in the highway median is a piss bottle. On our first tour outside of California in ’03 or something, we were in dead-stop traffic on I-40. We were driving all the way across the country to North Carolina for our first show, then play all the way back. The first week was just this hard-ass drive. In a 1994 GMC Yukon.
P: In which we could fit everything. Four members and all gear—electric and acoustic. Probably our finest achievement.
R: We’ve done amazing packs never recorded by history. The world will never know we pack a vehicle better than any band in America. There should be a Grammy for that! For Best Independent Vehicle Pack! So traffic comes to a dead stop and we’re just sitting there with the car turned off and the windows down … and we see a piss bottle. Like a plastic quart bottle full of piss.
P: Allegedly.
R: So we had to test the theory. Paul ran out to get it, and I would open the cap and sniff it. And confirm or deny.
Wouldn’t you need a bigger sample size?
P: Than one? One was enough.
R: I just put my nose over it and took this big sniff—and it was the worst most acrid stinking acidic smell—‘Ah, no!’
P: There was genuine horror in his eyes. There’s no faking that.
R: And I’m not a weak-stomached guy. I have two and a half children. I can wipe somebody’s ass while they’re puking. I don’t care!
P: Then you’ll never be out of work, son!
Did you write ‘hit the bong / hit the bottle / Shaquille O’Neal / is Aristotle’ because of Shaq’s Twitter?
R: I signed up to follow Shaquille cuz I knew enough to know that would be a good idea.
P: I refuse to use Twitter—who has time?
R: The two of us are the bloggers of the band.
P: Rob’s mom thought we actually got arrested for peeing in the California Aqueduct [a classic iseehawks.com tall tale—ed.] and she goes, ‘Good! He needed to be stopped!’
R: ‘I’m glad they finally got him!’ That’s what my mom said after discovering I’d been ‘arrested’ and ‘was in jail.’
Is she much of a criminal herself?
R: ‘Yes’ is my answer to that question.
P: You certainly have a common understanding of each other.
R: We understand each other better than anyone else. The dark side of each other. You can’t communicate with my mom in a way that’s not dark. The minute you communicate with my mom, you’re in darkness.
What were your birthday parties like growing up?
R: She didn’t throw any birthday parties. Ah … my mom.
Who does she wishes I See Hawks sounded more like?
R: Jimmy Swaggart!
P: My mom loves everything I do. She’s very supportive. One time one of my bands was on tour and the singer goes, ‘I’ll give you $5 if you stick your nose between my toes.’ Why not? So I do it and someone takes a picture—I’ve been set up! And they’re over at my mom’s and they lay it on her and she says, ‘But Paul looks so HANDSOME!’
R: We have opposite mothers. Maybe that’s why our writing collaboration works.
P: She’s dark, but she lightened up. Except politically. My mom’s darkness is in politics. Any conspiracy comes along, she’s right there. Art Bell is too mainstream.
What’s the closest brush with death I See Hawks has had?
R: Paul almost drowned on tour!
P: I don’t know if I really would have drowned. We were on a little inlet and I’m not a very good swimmer and halfway across, I realized I’m not gonna make it. So I just start floating and it’s going really fast. ‘Am I gonna drown? No, I can just float.’ And I see our drummer and our eyes lock and I realize he thinks I’m dying! He was just frozen! But you can tread water all day, so I just treaded water. And floated for a really long way.
R: That’s the best way to go through life! One of the only good things about aging—the process of aging—is realizing, ‘I’m not gonna make it! I’m not gonna make it to the other side. So I might as well just go slack and let the current take me.’
P: ‘I can prolong the experience as long as I remain calm.’
R: People don’t want it to come, but it’s a very good moment.
P: Death? No it’s not!
R: No, the moment when you realize not to struggle.
P: But you’re also into death. Rob is like, ‘I bet it’s great!’
P: Paul is very afraid. I’m kind of oddly welcoming.
Epicurus said, ‘If I am, death is not. If death is, I am not. Why should I fear death?’ Does that help?
P: No, but I like that! I’ll grab on to any life raft!
You said once that I See Hawks songs are about three things—places, animals and defiance of death.
R: We might have expanded a little bit.
P: We sort of have kind of political and social commentary.
R: But woven into it.
P: Not like ‘War is wrong.’
Because war is right?
R: We had a song called ‘Kill the Rich.’
P: We never did it—it seemed like tossing a violent pebble into the river.
How come that’s not on the new compilation?
P: We never recorded it.
Is this I See Hawks’ private reserve?
P: We have a lot. We were thinking of putting them on the website. We have insane songs.
So what would the dark side version of Shoulda Been Gold have? ‘Shoulda Never Been Heard’?
R: There’s ‘Run Osama Run.’
P: We just wrote one on the train ride: ‘Hitler Needed Oil.’
R: ‘Morphine Is Good for You.’
P: It’s a lullaby.
Do you ever play these?
P: We played ‘Run Osama Run’ at Cole’s one time and it was great. Our bass player keeps us from doing a lot of these songs. He’s the moral rudder. Rob and I are children who pick wings off of flies and don’t know we’re causing harm. We’re pleased by our own clever turn of phrase, and he’s like, ‘Goddamit, you can’t play that!’
R: He just says he won’t play on the song, and he sings and plays so well that we want him on it, so …
What do you think of the new face-lifted Cole’s?
R: I hate it.
P: I haven’t gone in. I don’t wanna see it. It’s pretty heartbreaking. The guys wear garters on their sleeves. It’s ‘shave and a haircut, two bits!’ But there is something I’m happy about. The room we played in is gone. Sealed up. The vault has been sealed. We played there every week for three years. It was great—it really allowed for the creation of the band in certain ways. If you play every single week at the same place, it just develops a life of its own. And it was a laboratory for us.
R: And for our fans. It was easy to pack—a fairly small room—but it was packed every week. And the fans did not care what you did. If you fell on your face, they loved it!
R: You’d play every night and be like, ‘Wow, we’re fucking great!’
P: And then go do a real gig—
R: All of a sudden you’re in Athens, Georgia, and Beck is at the Georgiadome. And you’re like, ‘Oh, shit …’
Is the Cinema Bar your new Cole’s?
R: It’s a different spirit.
P: But you can do whatever you want. Cole’s was our little private … Ali was kind of doing it for fun.
R: Or family. But Cinema Bar has a place for good spirit.
What has departed L.A. forever and is never coming back?
R: My wife’s restaurant at Mr. T’s is gone and I miss it dearly.
So free food?
R: I certainly worked for my food there! That’s something I miss. Shaquille O’Neal. That era of the Lakers I enjoyed. 2002-2003.
Have you ever participated in a Lakers-related civil disturbance?
R: Not near any particular epicenter. But when Robert Horry hit that three-pointer against Sacramento, I was part of a spontaneous act of violence.
When you played the Mariposa County Fair, you said, ‘We believe in America. We love fairs. Corn Dogs, the Demolition Derby, funnel cakes and Ferris wheels.’ What do you still believe in about America?
R: Funnel cakes.
P: I think we were pretty specific—did we leave anything out?
R: Is that a trick question?
P: It’s almost ‘Do you support the troops?’
What’s the last nice thing you did for the troops?
R: I gave an acting serviceman a CD. He tried to pay for it and said he was in action in Afghanistan and I said, ‘Dude, take it.’
P: I stopped donating to Al Qaeda. I realized, ‘Wait a minute—this could be harming our troops!’
And now you’ll never be able to board a domestic flight again.
P: They won’t let us on anyway!
What are the three greatest American inventions?
P: The Shop-Vac is phenomenal.
R: The dildo.
I think that’s from ancient Greece.
P: ‘Dildo’ sounds Greek.
R: The electric vibrator.
Not the electric guitar?
R: Same concept.
P: I would say pedal steel. A phenomenal thing.
R: The cotton gin! The steam shovel!
P: The atom bomb. We’ve done a lot!
R: Haven’t we? It makes me proud! I’m proud we got the nuclear bomb first—aren’t you? I’m proud of the stealth bomber! I was a bartender at the 1996 Superbowl—Packers against Denver—and it was like the first time the stealth bomber was released to the public and they flew it over the Superbowl.
And no one could tell it was even there?
R: No one had ever seen it! Everybody was just silent like, ‘Oh my God …’ Cuz it looks like a flying wing of death coming to kill you. So everyone was like, ‘Ooh, it’s scary!’ 80,000 people scared! This huge wing goes WOOOOOOSH right past and then everybody is like, ‘… YEAHHHHHHHH!’ So fucking psyched! And I was too! ‘Yeah! This is ours! This is our weapon!’
P: It’s so primal. People make fun of the Soviets for parading the tanks but …
They should have dropped some kegs on the field.
R: The ultimate!
Is that what you thought of when you played the county fair?
R: We played at the Irvine Spectrum in the early days of the band. We got booked by the mall at the mall. Our job was to stand and set up all our shit—we’re telling all our humiliating stories! ‘We’ve had some good gigs—like the time we played the Spectrum!’ We go through the back entrance and they’re really hardcore about not drinking, so we went to McDonald’s and got a coke and filled it with bourbon. And they set us across from the Opera Café, and we were playing acoustic music and they got these speakers on the fake patio so we had to sing into the opera music. People would walk by like going to the movies—
P: —with no reaction. ‘Is that a fire hydrant?’
R: And then girls would come up and start talking to us—while we’re playing—and they wanna get on the mic and start saying ‘happy birthday’ to their friends. Which we let them.
P: Good times. Like ‘Flight of the Conchords.’ Playing to nobody for no reaction.
There’s purity there.
P: There is. For yourself.
R: It takes courage to face that cultural wave that’s gonna wipe you out.
You said before that country music is pragmatic above all else, and that makes people like Toby Keith and Gretchen Wilson truer in a way to country than the kind of throwback music I See Hawks makes.
R: We’re freaks and relics and we’re something else as well. But it’s weird how we tend to do better in remote areas. We have sort of a remote area mindset. I think it’s borderline survivalist. There are people in the world who still wanna rock. But it is weird. When you do this thing in this era—we’re releasing this record of basically music we’ve written and played for the last ten years. A decade of music as we’re coming to the close of a decade, and we started right at the beginning. An interesting way to mark time. It’s almost like geographical regions don’t matter. People can dial in to whatever taste is wherever. It’s spread way out. But you go there and have these kind of more rewarding experiences with people because they genuinely like what you’re doing and you genuinely appreciate them and they know it. Genuinely! You stay at their house and they make you dinner. It’s a strange experience and different than being a rock star. We sort of had that idea before, but when you are sort of just existing and playing music and connecting with people, it’s a totally different experience.
Does this connect to anything you’ve said about the death of regionalism?
P: Everyone has access to everything at the same time.
R: People hunt authentic experiences like people hunt exotic game. Hemingway shot elephants and now people get an iPhone app to find an authentic Mexican restaurtant. ‘The Authentic Guide To American Cities!’
P: That’s good! Authenti-city.
R: The second big website we’ve designed today! It’s great! Go to a bowling alley, check into a flophouse—
P: —I lost a finger! That real enough for you!?
So after all this time, people still kind of don’t want to be lied to?
R: They wanna be lied to and they don’t wanna be lied to. They wanna be lied to by the president but they don’t wanna be lied to by a country rock band. They welcome lies by the president. Maybe it’s easier to tell? When someone sings a song that’s bullshit, you walk the fuck out. You can’t sit there and be obliterated by it unless you’re heavily medicated. Unless people are!
So the solution is to let country-rock bands run the country?
R: There is no solution! But we will all die happy!

I SEE HAWKS IN L.A. WITH GINA VILLALOBOS AND HAYMAKER ON FRI., JAN. 22, AT THE PUKA BAR, 710 W. WILLOW ST., LONG BEACH. 9 PM / $7 / 21+. MYSPACE.COM/PUKABAR. AND ON SAT., JAN. 23, FOR THE HIGH DESERT CD RELEASE PARTY OF SHOULDA BEEN GOLD AT PAPPY AND HARRIET’S, 53688 PIONEERTOWN RD., PIONEERTOWN. 7:15 PM / FREE / 21+. PAPPYANDHARRIETS.COM. AND WITH MATT THE ELECTRICIAN ON SUN., JAN. 24, FOR THE L.A. CD RELEASE PARTY OF SHOULDA BEEN GOLD AT McCABE’S, 3101 PICO BLVD., SANTA MONICA. 7 / $15 / ALL AGES. MCCABES.COM. I SEE HAWKS IN L.A.’S SHOULDA BEEN GOLD RELEASES TUE., JAN. 26, ON COLLECTOR’S CHOICE. VISIT I SEE HAWKS IN L.A. AT ISEEHAWKS.COM.

Link to full article here

FLYING HIGH – Hawks Return to Coffee Gallery

February 2, 2012 · 0 comments

by Bliss
link to Full Article


I See Hawks in LA won’t be holding a proper release party for “New Kind of Lonely” until its Feb. 24 show at McCabe’s in Santa Monica. But local fans can get a preview of the new tunes this Friday when the Hawks return to the Coffee Gallery Backstage.

Cut live in the studio around three microphones, “New Kind of Lonely” is an acoustic project that highlights one of the trademark elements of the Hawks’ sound: the tightly woven harmonies between frontman Rob Waller, dobroist Paul Lacques and bassist Paul Marshall. As a band, they’ve long since proved they can rock the house, particularly during more anthemic numbers like “Humboldt,” a staple of their club sets. But their acoustic shows have generally fostered an intimacy that audiences have also relished, and those fans are likely to respond warmly to the new recording. The open space in the acoustic settings directs more attention to the richly poetic, thoughtful lyrics, which balance humor with a pervasive sense of mortality and loss.

“Bohemian Highway” opens the album on a rather contemplative note, gratefully recalling old friends and roads traveled together while suggesting they’ve all disappeared. The loving “Big Old Hypodermic Needle” bids farewell to two friends who succumbed to overwhelming demons. One of the most affecting tracks is the bittersweet “The Spirit of Death,” which contemplates time’s inexorable march and mourns late fiddler and singer-songwriter Amy Farris before giving way to a spirited fiddle solo by Gabe Witcher.

“When I was a younger man, the good times eased the way

But now the stars are falling every other day

The dreams of childhood are returning to say

Your dance is coming, better pick a tune and play…”

Elsewhere, “Highland Park Serenade” wistfully name checks Figueroa, Mr. T’s Bowl and other local sites while assessing changes wrought by gentrification and time. “I Fell in Love With the Grateful Dead” looks back to youthful discoveries with a laugh over sparkling guitar leads. The album wraps with the lovely “If You Lead I Will Follow,” a fittingly melancholy close to an album that holds up loved ones and cherished ways, even if they’ve gone out of fashion. In a culture that’s ever more fragmented, the Hawks continue to show unsentimental respect for what they believe holds lasting value: land (not real estate) and the environment, music (not the music industry) and bonds of community forged through mutual care. n

I See Hawks in LA performs at the Coffee Gallery Backstage,
2029 N. Lake Ave., Altadena, 8 p.m. Friday, Feb. 3; $15. Info/reservations: (626) 798-6236.
Karen Tobin and Paul Marshall open. iseehawks.com,
coffegallery.com

NEW KIND OF LONELY REVIEW – Examiner.com

February 2, 2012 · 0 comments

by Chris Griffy
Link to Full Article
I See Hawks in L.A. is a band that has won over a ton of fans with their seamless blend of California Country-Rock and Psychedelia on their five previous albums, as well as through their strong live performances.

Of late, I See Hawks in L.A. have increasingly flirted with all-acoustic shows, hosting a one-mic acoustic series in Los Angeles’ Cole’s bar and with acclaimed tours in support of Americana superstars like Ray Wylie Hubbard, Dave Alvin, and Chris Hillman.

After years of teasing fans with glimpses of a what a stripped down I See Hawks in L.A. sounds like, the band has finally pulled the trigger on their first all-acoustic album, titled New Kind of Lonely, releasing March 6.

On New Kind of Lonely, guitarist and vocalist Rob Waller takes center stage with his dark lyrics and intricate guitar arrangements. As befits its name, New Kind of Lonely spends a lot of its running time exploring loss, both of love and of life. “Spirit of Death” explore this most achingly with the tale an aging man whose “dance is coming, you better pick a tune and play…”

But don’t think this is a funeral dirge of an album. There’s plenty of dark humor and even some hope on New Kind of Lonely. “Spirit of Death” ends on an upnote, with some dance-worthy fiddle work by Gabe Witcher that lifts the listener’s, as well as presumably the narrator’s, spirits.

But the gems on this album are “I Fell in Love with the Grateful Dead”, “Big Old Hypodermic Needle”, and “Hunger Mountain Breakdown.” The songs couldn’t be more different and show off the songwriting range on New Kind of Lonely.

“I Fell in Love with the Grateful Dead” is the tale of a Deadhead who “in ’72 I rode up the coast, on a sputtering Triumph with draft dodging freaks from my college.” It’s a nostalgic tale of a more simple time when “hippie carefree melodies filled my head where I did what I did and said what I said in the parking lot caravan of the Grateful Dead.” It’s an appropriately Jammy track, with plenty of Dead inspired guitar and bass antics

“Big Old Hypodermic Needle” tells the tale of two friend who overdose together to get “one last time for the memory of the sunset turning gold.” The arrangement on this one is interesting, oddly jaunty and dance-worthy for such a dark subject. While this could have provided a distraction in less capable hands, I See Hawks in L.A. manage to make it sound like it’s the most normal thing in the world. As with the speeded up ending to “Spirit of Death”, it reminds us that one person’s fear and dread is another’s welcome release. As the song’s final lyrics tell us “coming home’s easy when you hear the angel bell. Two sweet sisters and the sunrise, hear the angel bell.”

“Hunger Mountain Breakdown” could have been a Bill Monroe song in another era. A straight up Bluegrass number, it tells the tale of a man planning a dramatic ridgetop suicide and features some stellar instrumental work from banjo picker Cliff Wagner and fiddler Gabe Witcher.

New Kind of Lonely is a true anachronism, a thoroughly modern album that still manages to sound like it belongs alongside the dark lyrics of Hank Williams and Ralph Stanley and the tight vocal harmonies of The Louvin Brothers. It’s a lovingly crafted ode to a bygone era, where Country artists weren’t in the business of making feel good pseudo-pop songs but instead told unvarnished stories of love, loss, pain ,and death.

In a time that is often compared in the news to The Great Depression, the world needs albums like New Kind of Lonely that look back to those dark times.

New Kind of Lonely hits store shelves on March 6. An acoustic album release party will be held February 24 at McCabes with electric versions of the album’s tunes being debuted in a show March 10 at Pappy & Harriet’s.

NEW KIND OF LONELY Sneak Preview

January 26, 2012 · 0 comments

Our new, all acoustic CD is almost here! Here are all the lyrics, music to follow soon:

BOHEMIAN HIGHWAY

Rivers in the sky
Layin in grass so high
Morning glory spied
By Mr. Darcy’s eye

I’m not alone in Freestone
Old friends reflecting
All my rarefied and better light
Green Apple meadow take this weary mind

Bohemian Highway
August river road
Bohemian Highway
Carrying me home

Pure black wooded night
Dipper in the sky
Seven Sisters fight
I ain’t takin’ sides

I’m the lonesome satellite
Following the Dipper lines
To true north my companion since the day before I chose delight
Abandoned my old sacred burden

Bohemian Highway
Rivers in the sky
Bohemian Highway
Rivers in my eyes

Thank you for wandering
Sweet curves and bitter hollows
Abandoned stone marked pastures
Return to random useless wonder
Return to random useless wonder

Bohemian Highway
August river road
Bohemian Highway
Carrying me home

DEAR FLASH

Dear Flash
Dear Flash
It’s been a long long long long long long time

Well I surely do respect your need
to fade into the hills
But damn, old man, I’ve got to say
the effort nearly killed me

I miss your prose and your sensitive nose
Do you still hunt chanterelles?
I miss those days
And freedom’s way
And the lovely unshod belles

Dear Flash
Won’t you lend me some cash?
Won’t you lend me some cash?
Dear Flash

As I sit in Angelino
there’s a rumble in the air
The feds are flying gray Chinooks
to pacify our cares

And yes I need a Greyhound fare
But I also need relief
I spent my youth in bitter truth
Now I want to lie in green

CHORUS

I won’t be a nuisance
You’ll hardly know I’m there
At the far in of your acres
I’ll be a cropper
If you’ll share

CHORUS

THE SPIRIT OF DEATH

I went out dreaming to the bottom of the sea
Under the whispering weight of the people gone before me
The song of the sinking sun summoned me to shore
That old friend I’d known a thousand times before

It was the spirit of death
The spirit of death
The spirit of death
The spirit of death
My heart is blessed
With the spirit of death

When I was a younger man
The good times eased the way
But now the stars are falling every other day
The dreams of childhood are returning to say
Your dance is coming, better pick a tune and play

CHORUS

Sweet sister Amy left us in the fall
Her spirit lingers in the hearts of us all
I asked my old friend if Amy was okay
He said that blazing spirit carried her on her way

CHORUS

If you visit my grave you won’t be alone
I’ll be dancing on my own gravestone
So bring your pretty woman, bring your fruit of the vine
A whole lot of laughing and a little bit of crying
Little bit of crying
Little bit of crying

NEW KIND OF LONELY

Our favorite young couple
Came by to watch some TV
They felt a strange loneliness so soon after their joyous
Matrimony

It was a rocking wedding
All the friends came in from out of town
Now they feel like they’re letting
Everybody down

There’s a new kind of lonely
And it’s sitting right next to you
There’s a new kind of lonely
Ah but even the sky is blue

Randy went out and got wasted with the boys
Chasing skirts and getting hurt, recollapsing
All the young man’s joys

Mona stayed home, slept with the cat
Too tired to wonder when Randy’s
Finally coming back

CHORUS

Little dove
Where’s your love?
The one always beside you
I guess it’s true
The lucky twos
Sometimes refuse the solace of their garden

Now I’m sitting on the back porch with my long time lovely bride
Waiting for the sun to set, the breeze to blow
Everything’s all right

CHORUS

I FELL IN LOVE WITH THE GRATEFUL DEAD

I fell in with the Grateful Dead
Hippie melodies in my head
I did what I did and I said what I said
In the parking lot caravan Grateful Dead

Me and my sister snuck out of the house
Took the Sunset bus into Hollywood’s mouth
To an acre of heaven in a concrete mile
Palladium, Palladium, Palladium smile

In the deep summer fog in Hampton Sydney
With the sweet southern girls who were oh so pretty
We smoked marijuana on the Chesapeake Bay
Fed the horses with handfuls of hay

CHORUS

In the summer of ‘72 I rode up the coast
On a sputtering Triumph with draft dodging freaks from my college
‘Twas the Santa Barbara Bowl and the New Riders opened the show
With a black wall of speakers as big as the ocean
Jerry came out smoking his cigarette
We hollered like wolves
He played his guitar seven days of the week
And the little man next to me was starting to peak
Oh, Donna, earth mama, smile down on this freak

CHORUS

My lady knew the crew
So we were granted backstage
Ate organic vegetarian curry and rice
Sat down in the wings on the hardwood floor
And the music washed over me
A foaming green gentle sea
A sea without jealousy
And I was the shore
I was laughing and crying without even trying

CHORUS

What, may you ask, is this song about?
It’s a cry for the tribes of peace to come out
We got the numbers, we’re fast and we’re strong
Consult your Whole Earth Catalogs

Take this hippie faded love and use it if you please
Or scatter us all gently on a Santa Cruz breeze
Or an Arkansas storm

To Winterland Meadowlands Soldier Field Tivoli
Rotterdam Amsterdam Newcastle Wimberly
Hey, batter, batter
You can’t destroy matter

I fell in with the Grateful Dead
Hippie melodies in my head
I did what I did and I said what I said
In the parking lot caravan Grateful Dead
A blonde hippie girl shared my bed

MARY AUSTIN SKY

Even her mundane objects are beautiful
Human folly cast in stone
L.A. river from the 6th street bridge
Weedpatch Highway, Old Road

Mary Austin Sky
Mary Austin Sky

She made the desert more sacred for me
Temblor Mountains, Carrizo Plain
Palo Verde, Saline Valley
Holy landscape, human stain

Mary Austin Sky
Mary Austin Sky

Holding
Back the
Inevitable

Mary Austin Sky
Mary Austin Sky

BIG OLD HYPODERMIC NEEDLE

She called me on the telephone and waited all night long
I never showed up at her door to carry her along
She scratched and scratched and smoked a pack
That itch just wouldn’t quit
Drank some wine, some Vicodine, and bought some time

It was that big old hypodermic needle
Nothing else would do
Big old hypodermic needle
Trusted, tried, and true
It was her steely shot of courage
It was her red white and blue

Four days later on the floor she didn’t feel so sick
Sun came through the kitchen door
Thank God she’d finally quit
Got out of the house, that brave little mouse
Facing the world on her own
Oh, but flying in on that clear desert wind
Her very best friend
Gonna be with her to the end

It was that big old hypodermic needle
Just a taste for the road
Big old hypodermic needle
Two sisters’ secret code
One last time for the memory
In a sunset turning gold

It was that same ironic ending to the fable at the wooden kitchen table
When you get too much of what you’re looking for
And what also killed the messenger, straight off the plane from Amsterdam
Was sweet and uncut heaven and I found them where they fell

It was that big old hypodermic needle
Who’s to say and who’s to tell
Big old hypodermic needle
Did you ever feel like an empty shell?
Comin home was easy
When you hear the angel bells
Two sweet sisters in the sunrise
Hear the angel bells

RIVER RUN

Now the river flows
Mostly underground
Summer rains
Have moved further south
Mosquitos in the sun
Miles of empty wells
Remember how we lived so well

My canopy abides
The strange new times
Open sky
Is hard and dry
Memory
Returns to me
I’ll root down
To porous ground

Run, river, run
River run, river run
River run
River run
River run

Now the river runs
Swiftly down my face
Wednesday brought the rain
Rain is holy grace
Grace be in my heart
My heart is in your hands

CHORUS

She said cottonwood, cottonwood
Don’t you cry
My source is the mountainside
If you keep me in your mind
My waters will find you

I will always pass on by
Reflecting changes in the sky
A thousand years is just a breath
A thousand miles before I rest

CHORUS

HIGHLAND PARK SERENADE

Slow down Figueroa
You’re breathing too fast
Twenty miles of boulevard
In a town that can’t last

I wake up at night
Hear your Saturday sounds
Helicopter, helicopter
Mission: surround

It’s a Highland Park serenade
Some are in love and some are afraid
It’s a Highland Park serenade

Five generations in this tumble down valley
From the concrete arroyo to T’s Bowling Alley
And a boy sprays his name on a newcomer’s walls
Just to let you know he’s not leaving at all

CHORUS

Calma te, calma te, calma te, mijo querido
Te amo, te amo, te amo, mi cuidad de pueblos todos

When the sun gets low
And the barbecues glow
There’s the asada you fear
And the asada you know
We’re living at the end of Monte Vista
Where the sun sets down right when I kiss ya

CHORUS

YOUNGER BUT WISER

We said our farewells
In songs and warning bells
The oracles won’t tell
Where we are going

We climbed the mountain trail
In lightning and black hail
Carrying the seeds of the revival

Younger but wiser
Addled, drunk and wild
I’ll meet you on the other side
Younger but wiser
Carrying our lives
I gotta say I kinda dig the ride

You and Karen sailed beside the great gray whales
Telling your own tales of the insurrection
Hope is burning bright
Southern Cross tonight
Wondering at life beyond the horizon

CHORUS

You and me alone
Cottages of stone fill our dreams tonight
Sheep up on the hill, brandy in the still
Feasting through the winter time
Flax, hemp, silk, sweet goat milk
Heaven’s so nearby again
Baby’s in the yard, learning all the stars
Heaven’s so nearby again
Heaven’s so nearby again

CHORUS

HUNGER MOUNTAIN BREAKDOWN

Hunger Mountain Breakdown
Hunger Mountain Breakdown

I’d like to introduce you to the mountain
I’d like to introduce you to my friend
You know that if I’m up here on this mountain
My problems will soon be at an end

I traveled all the way across this country
To climb above these pastures once again
See the smoke rising from the chimneys
Like memories scattering in the wind

The view through the leaf-bare trees
White birch and white snow
Following animal tracks
While the stark, strong, winds blow
Oooooohhhh

Welcome to the top of Hunger Mountain
400 feet of granite cliffs below
please tell all my friends in California
I’ll find satisfaction when I go

Hunger Mountain Breakdown
Hunger Mountain Breakdown

It sure is nice and quiet on Hunger Mountain
Now that my screeching demons are gone
Last night I dreamed about the ocean
And the time has come to travel on

Joy riding fighter planes
Golden eagle dips its wings
Slipping through the alpenglow
Back through your bedroom window

Hunger Mountain Breakdown
Hunger Mountain Breakdown

YOUR LOVE IS GOING TO KILL ME SOME DAY

Thirty pages of Ulysses
That much closer to the day
When one of us is leaving
And the other must remain

Well the western sky reminds me
Of the time you went all fiery
From my moment’s hesitation
At our wild and wicked ways

And it wasn’t just your beauty
Or your cosmic sense of duty
Or the dolphins in the gables
On our fabled wedding day
Giving you away

Your love is going to kill me
Someday
Your love
Your love
Your love is going to kill me

You believe in beliefs yet have none
Sleep your deep sleep when day is done
Laugh as you chop down my grandiositree

Now I watch myself rising to your elevated plain
Listening to Terrapin Station in the rain

If you leave me I’ll ramble, I’ll jump, I’ll go mad
Our love is so good that it’s exactly that bad
You believe in blood medicine just like your dad

CHORUS

Heaven is in your kitchen
My inferno is in remission
If only fate was a decision
If only we could hold hands for oblivion
The skies of our own Armageddon
The skies

CHORUS

IF YOU LEAD I WILL FOLLOW

The wheels are rolling in the ruts of the wheels
That have rolled down this trail before
Tumbleweeds dreaming, the cactus seem to be
Pointing towards some distant door

Where’s the stewardess on this wagon train?
I need something to cut the fog in my brain
When I just can’t take it any more

If you lead I will follow
You give me comfort from the world
When my heart is feeling hollow
You fill it up with your diamonds and pearls

On the shores of Independence Rock
We roll and laugh and dance and talk and shake off the dust from the day
And I stand on the granite
Just like I planned it
And I’m wondering if I could stay

But the sun is sinking in the west
And this whole long trip is just one big test
And damned if I’m going to fail

CHORUS

The angels are singing and I’m still clinging
To the crag at the end of the ledge
You’re calling to me
Denying gravity
I close my eyes and step over the edge

CHORUS

NEW KIND OF LONELY CD RELEASE AT MCCABE’S FEB. 24

January 5, 2012

We’re excited to announce that our CD Release show for “New Kind of Lonely” will take place on February 24th at McCabe’s in Santa Monica. Come on out! For more info on buying tickets, etc visit www.mccabes.com

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Hawks launch KICKSTARTER Campaign!! New CD “New Kind Of Lonely,” 13 All Acoustic Tracks Guaranteed to Please

October 26, 2011

We just finished tracking 13 acoustic songs for our new CD “New Kind Of Lonely.” We recorded old school, sitting in a circle around some fancy microphones. Cliff Wagner played some blazing banjo, Gabe Witcher added some fiddle, and Dave Raven played drums on 3 songs. We’re getting ready to mix, master, and make CDs, [...]

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ANOMALOUS TOUR (aka The Bait and Switch Tour)

July 26, 2011

This is super drummer Dave Raven’s first trip with the Hawks, and it’s been so great that we fear we’ve set the expectations bar a bit high for him. “It’s not usually this cushy, bro.” Our third day extended and heightened the mellow dreamlike nature of our northern wandering. We took the 5 South of [...]

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ESPRESSO BASED CULTURE AND COMMERCE IN AMERICAN RURAL SOCIETY

July 26, 2011

The Hawks have grown and thrived in the same time frame of the spread of capuccinos to rural American culture. We have witnessed the grand opening of a Starbucks in Provo, Utah, sampled sophisticated single source brews in blue highway towns, stood behind bearded mountain men as they enquire into croissants and scones, their trucks [...]

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THROUGH THE COUNTIES AND NORTH

July 26, 2011

Saturday morning, hard clear blue skies, we do indeed rise at 7:30 a.m., load up, are treated to a hearty eggs and espresso based breakfast at Evangeline’s, more thanks upon thanks. The Yukon powers over hills and county lines to Nevada City, a picture postcard Gold Rush town gracefully tucked into wooded ridges, rows of [...]

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THE SUMMER OF SWOLLEN STREAMS

July 23, 2011

Late July, 2011. The Hawks have taken once again to the summer road. Green oaks rise above the yellowing grasses. Mount Volcano Shasta peeks over the foot hills white and tall. Streams and rivers across the West are fat and full. We cross over deep green rivers crowded with Saturday boaters in cut off shorts [...]

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LOUVIN BROTHERS TRIBUTE

April 17, 2011

event details talent Tom Brosseau, John C Reilly, The Chapin Sisters, Jenny O, Stone Darling, I See Hawks In L.A. with Tony Gilkyson, The Damn Sons, Driftwood Singers, Wimberley Bluegrass Band, Emily Lacy, Fort King, RT N’ The 44′s, Olentangy John info A fundraiser for Japanese Red Cross Society and a tribute to the Louvin [...]

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