Our appreciation and special thanks go to the entire Mercantile staff, Nolan Farmer, Musical Director, and Divide Satellite Systems. But most of all, our heartfelt thanks and love go to the people of Jamestown, whose patronage and support make all this possible.

- Love, Joe and Susie Howlett

All songs © their... (more)

Our appreciation and special thanks go to the entire Mercantile staff, Nolan Farmer, Musical Director, and Divide Satellite Systems. But most of all, our heartfelt thanks and love go to the people of Jamestown, whose patronage and support make all this possible.

- Love, Joe and Susie Howlett

All songs © their respective artists, except for:

Shine Like the Sun written by Mark Lincoln

Linda Lou written by Peter Wilde

He Was a Friend is Traditional

Recorded by PME Records on location at The Mercantile Café in Jamestown, CO. Mixed at PME Studios, Studio A. Mastered by The Colorado Mastering Group. This sound recording © 1999 PME Records, Denver CO USA. Unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable law, and will be subject to severe civil and criminal penalties.

Our appreciation and special thanks go to the entire Mercantile staff, Nolan Farmer, Musical Director, and Divide Satellite Systems. But most of all, our heartfelt thanks and love go to the people of Jamestown, whose patronage and support make all this possible.

- Love, Joe and Susie Howlett

All songs © their... (more)

Our appreciation and special thanks go to the entire Mercantile staff, Nolan Farmer, Musical Director, and Divide Satellite Systems. But most of all, our heartfelt thanks and love go to the people of Jamestown, whose patronage and support make all this possible.

- Love, Joe and Susie Howlett

All songs © their respective artists, except for:

Shine Like the Sun written by Mark Lincoln

Linda Lou written by Peter Wilde

He Was a Friend is Traditional

Recorded by PME Records on location at The Mercantile Café in Jamestown, CO. Mixed at PME Studios, Studio A. Mastered by The Colorado Mastering Group. This sound recording © 1999 PME Records, Denver CO USA. Unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable law, and will be subject to severe civil and criminal penalties.

Special thanks to all who gave love and support through the completion of this album: Kelly Gray,

Calire Zavalani, Craig Patterson, Herb & Marilyn Schreiber, Jerry & Joey Winter, Raymond & Thelma

Waggitt, Pete Keim, and Shawn Coullahan.

Our thoughts are with Eric Weaver who created the artwork for... (more)

Special thanks to all who gave love and support through the completion of this album: Kelly Gray,

Calire Zavalani, Craig Patterson, Herb & Marilyn Schreiber, Jerry & Joey Winter, Raymond & Thelma

Waggitt, Pete Keim, and Shawn Coullahan.

Our thoughts are with Eric Weaver who created the artwork for this album during the last days of his

life.

Stuff.

All songs © 1993, Blue Toy Songs, Pop Culture Songs, and Saturated Songs.

Michael Blue - Vocals, Bass and Guitars

Dean Hutchinson - Drums

Thad keim - Guitars and Bass

David Winter - Keyboards and Vocals

Additional Musicians: Gina Garcia - Percussion on tracks 1, 4, 6, and 11

Sylvester Henderson - Backing Vocals on track 4

Miari - Backing Vocals on track 1

Frank Reina - Drums on tracks 1, 2, and 4

Matt Taylor - Harmonica on Track 9

Wilhemina Watts - Backing Vocals on tracks 1, 2, 4, & 5

Recorded at Jeff "Penguin" Taylor's igloo in Monte Sereno, CA by Craig Patterson with PER Mobile Recording

Mixed at Sideways Recording in Santa Ana, CA by Craig Patterson, Jim Hahn, and Moe Jackson

Mastered by Dave Merullo at RJR Digital, Bonita, CA

Tiny Town Junior High

"The Fightin' Amish"

Rob "The Terminator" Douglass -

Vice President, Chess Club - Drums

Gary "Orbit" Dunn - Treasurer, Youth for McGovern Club - Guitar, Vocals

Steve "Smilin' Jack" Jenks - Runner-Up, Most Improved Award - Bass

Craig "Boy Genius... (more)

Tiny Town Junior High

"The Fightin' Amish"

Rob "The Terminator" Douglass -

Vice President, Chess Club - Drums

Gary "Orbit" Dunn - Treasurer, Youth for McGovern Club - Guitar, Vocals

Steve "Smilin' Jack" Jenks - Runner-Up, Most Improved Award - Bass

Craig "Boy Genius" Patterson - "Most Likely to Need Shock Therapy" - Keyboards

Recorded at PME Studios East and Central. Manufactured by PME Records, Colorado. ©1995 PME Records. All songs published 1995 Sisyphus Syndrome Music, BMI, except "Spark the Fire" which is also published 1990 Merciless Music, ASCAP. unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable laws, and will be subject to severe criminal and civil penalties. Album artwork by PME. For further information on any subject, including particle physics, contact PME on the Internet. Look both ways before crossing.

Craig Patterson played all instruments except for the guitar on "Millennium Rain," which was played by "Bill," last name unknown. As soon as we find out his last name, we will give him proper credit.

All songs written and produced by Craig Patterson with the exception of "Millennium Rain... (more)

Craig Patterson played all instruments except for the guitar on "Millennium Rain," which was played by "Bill," last name unknown. As soon as we find out his last name, we will give him proper credit.

All songs written and produced by Craig Patterson with the exception of "Millennium Rain," which was written with Bill.

Recorded at Avalon Studios, Colorado

Mastered at Different Fur, San Francisco, by Howard Johnston

Graphic Design and Art Direction by W. Brooks Cole, WBC, San Francisco.

Photography by Greg Schlack, Boulder Colorado.

Mr. Patterson would like to extend special thanks to Bill porter, Doug Jackson, Gary Dunn, and Art Martinez for their unending help and support, but especially to his parents, without whom this project would never have been possible, and to his father in particular, who was unable to see the completion of this project.

"Millennium Rain" was mixed on analog tape and has aged. It is, therefore, damaged, but the production staff elected to include the track anyway based on its artistic merit.

With one listen ,it's clear: Gary Burns is unique. You can hear influences of the great jazz and swing artists, as well as modern rock ,gospel, and even eastern tonalites.With producer Craig Patterson,Gary Burns is exploring new and exciting musical vistas! As the first project of the newly constructed PME Studios,"... (more)

With one listen ,it's clear: Gary Burns is unique. You can hear influences of the great jazz and swing artists, as well as modern rock ,gospel, and even eastern tonalites.With producer Craig Patterson,Gary Burns is exploring new and exciting musical vistas! As the first project of the newly constructed PME Studios,"Gary Burns While Rome Fiddles", was a rare opportunity to distance this project from the restraints new artist often endure. Craig was given total artistic license with production, which allowed Gary to concentrate on song writing and recording. The result is this one of a kind collection of offbeat and pithy songs.

Recorded and mixed at PME Studios and Morningwood Studios. Mastered by The Colorado Mastering Group. This sound recording © 1999 PME Records, Denver CO USA. Unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable law, and will be subject to severe civil and criminal penalties. Don’t make us get off this couch.

Recorded and mixed at PME Studios and Morningwood Studios. Mastered by The Colorado Mastering Group. This sound recording © 1999 PME Records, Denver CO USA. Unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable law, and will be subject to severe civil and criminal penalties. Don’t make us get off this couch.

Produced by Doug Jackson and Keith Kuchta

Engineered by Keith Kuchta

Recorded at New Earth Studios, Laguna Niguel, CA; A to Z Studios, and Bazzbo Productions, Laverne CA

April - September '93

Mastered at CMS Digital - Pasadena, CA by Robert Vosgien

Cottonbelt was one guitar, one pass

Musicians:

Doug Jackson... (more)

Produced by Doug Jackson and Keith Kuchta

Engineered by Keith Kuchta

Recorded at New Earth Studios, Laguna Niguel, CA; A to Z Studios, and Bazzbo Productions, Laverne CA

April - September '93

Mastered at CMS Digital - Pasadena, CA by Robert Vosgien

Cottonbelt was one guitar, one pass

Musicians:

Doug Jackson - Guitars

Ric Fierabracci - Bass

Mark Craney - Drums

Mychal Lotz - Keyboards on Storm Chaser and Beyond the Interstellar Stockade

I would like to thank the following people for their friendship and/or contribution to this project:

Dave Boruff, Bernie Hefner at Eidenhaus Guitars, David Lawrence, Doug Mathews, Craig Patterson at PME

Studios, Doug Perkins, David Riefenberg, Shem and Ray Turner.

Special thanks to: My wife (Sara) for her endless love and support (I love you!), my family (Bryan,

Harriet and Steve Jackson) for always believing in me, John Flynn and Keith Kuchta for your dedication

to your craft and this project, Carlos Rios for your inspiration, all my folks in Texas, and My

Heavenly Father for everything.

Keith Kuchta would like to thank Brian Kuchta, Roger and Rosemarie Kuchta, Monnie Compton, J. Hayes,

Steven Anderson, Chris Jaudes, and The Lord, who makes it all possible.

Collective thanks to: Tom Brooks, Mark Craney, Glenn Diekmann, Ric Fierabracci, Tim Jaquette, Abraham

Laboriel, Mychael Lots, Bob Somma, and Ann Thomas.

Mark Craney wishes to thank the Woodland Hills Drum Club

Ric Fierabracci uses DR strings

Doug Jackson uses guitars with strings and amps with speakers

All songs composed and arranged by Doug Jackson © 1995 Dogny Music (BMI) All Rights Reserved

Graphic Design - John Flynn

Cover Photography - John Lund

An odyssey through the Earth using Binaural Beats.

Designed for use ONLY with headphones!

Welcome to a journey through the Earth. This disc is set up as two tracks, but we strongly encourage you to simply play the entire disc as one song. The trip lasts exactly one hour, and will take you through two journeys... (more)

An odyssey through the Earth using Binaural Beats.

Designed for use ONLY with headphones!

Welcome to a journey through the Earth. This disc is set up as two tracks, but we strongly encourage you to simply play the entire disc as one song. The trip lasts exactly one hour, and will take you through two journeys simultaneously.

The first trip begins outside in the daytime. We can hear birds singing and children playing. As time goes on, day turns to night, and we hear the voices of the forest and jungle. During this time, a thunderstorm begins. As the water comes faster and faster, we're brought into a waterfall, and then down a stream from that waterfall to the seashore. We explore the surf for a time, and gradually venture into the water and beneath the surface. Once we head through the entire seabed, we make our way into the earth itself, traveling through ancient civilizations, hearing their music and their voices, as well as percussion sounds.

Eventually we ascend back through the sea, experiencing our awakening by surfacing near a lakeshore. As day breaks, we leave the lakeshore and come back into town, hearing the sounds of the modern countryside. Our journey is complete. We've traveled through eons of time, and all in just one hour.

The second journey occurs simultaneously, but is less obvious. While we're listening to music and the sounds of the Earth, Binaural Beats are altering our meditative state. You'll be able to hear them easily in the headphones, but your brain will ignore them after a short time. The theory and operation of binaural beats is actually rather simple. One frequency appears in one ear, and a different but similar frequency in the other ear. One frequency is, say 100 cycles per second. The other is nearby, starting at, say 130 cycles per second. When these tones combine in your brain (using a process called heterodyning), they produce a difference frequency that your subconscious mind tunes into. In the above example, the difference frequency is 30 cycles per second, which translates into an alert, awake state. This frequency that is produced is much like the EEG your brain produces, and that's what makes the process work.

If we change the difference frequency over time, our minds will automatically alter our brain waves in a process called Brainwave Entrainment. This just means that the brain will tend to follow those frequencies which are fed to it. Sound alone doesn't have to be used – a flashing light at the same frequency can be used also, but that method may present health problems to certain people.

When the brain's EEG is between about 14 cycles and 30 cycles, that's known as the Beta state, and that's when we're wide awake, alert, and focused. Between about 8 cycles and 14 cycles, we're relaxed, but still alert. This is known as the Alpha state. The Theta state, one of relaxation approaching sleep, lies between 4 cycles and 8 cycles. Below that is the deeply meditative Delta state, from .5 cycles to 4 cycles.

The binaural journey on this disc will take you from Beta, down through all the states, and let you deeply meditate and relax in the Delta state. You will then be brought back up through the states, finally ending very alert and ready to handle the world.

It is for that reason that we recommend you listen uninterrupted to the ENTIRE disc. Your mental state wil be unfocused if you do not listen all the way through. You'll need to wear headphones, and please remember to listen in the privacy of your own home. DO NOT listen in your car!

We invite you to search the internet for valuable resources on Binaural Beats and Brainwave Entrainment, because the subject is really too vast to be covered here. Take everything you read with a grain of salt, including this disc, and draw your own conclusions.

Have a wonderful journey!

Lodd is:

Mark Lincoln - vocals/guitars

Rob Ousley - bass/vocals

Rob Douglass - drums/vocals

Gary P. Dunn - guitars/vocals

Lodd is:

Mark Lincoln - vocals/guitars

Rob Ousley - bass/vocals

Rob Douglass - drums/vocals

Gary P. Dunn - guitars/vocals

GIVE ME A SONG

Sometimes it feels a million miles to California,

moving west into the sunlight again;

and I'm not sure where I came from, but it feels like Arizona,

and there's no place like Nevada to remind you of your pain.

There's a thin line between solitude and loneliness

like the cracks that open up here... (more)

GIVE ME A SONG

Sometimes it feels a million miles to California,

moving west into the sunlight again;

and I'm not sure where I came from, but it feels like Arizona,

and there's no place like Nevada to remind you of your pain.

There's a thin line between solitude and loneliness

like the cracks that open up here in the ground;

one side is inspiration and the other is religion

and in the middle is the faith I haven't found.

I want to sing like I'm giving birth to thunder,

like the way the desert smells after the rain;

I want to live like the earth splitting asunder,

like I'm never gonna live this life again.

Give me a song as a reminder of the places I have wandered,

and the times that I have cried, and times that I have wondered,

if life is like a lover why must I ever leave her?

and if I read the books of lies, how come I still believe in her?

It's seven o'clock in the morning or the evening,

I rub my eyes and seek up to the sky;

I check my breath and like the sky it's like a feeling

and I know that I can get there if I try.

I said I want to sing like I'm giving birth to thunder,

like the way the desert smells after the rain;

I want to live like the earth splitting asunder,

like I'm never gonna live this life again.

Give me a song as a reminder of the places I have wandered,

and the times that I have cried, and the days that I have wondered,

if life is like a lover why must I ever leave her?

and if I read the books of lies how come I still believe in her?

guitar, lead vocal, mandolin, shakers: David Gilligan

harmony vocals: Kreg Viesselman

THIS GREAT LAND

Oh Colorado

left me like indigo

with no place to dye.

I drive into the bright

and spend another night

restless beneath the stars on the fly.

Thinking about that mountain

where it meets the great plains

and all the places I've seen.

To go far is to return home

and to come a long way is a different poem

if you know what I mean.

Ray Charles on the radio

says the mountain is where I want to go

as I look out on the hill;

but where's my dark-eyed country woman

to put the fiddle to my strummin’

and take away my ills?

She's got the feeling she's in the right place

at the right time

doing the right thing;

and she smiles from the inside

to the outside

and I start to sing.

This great land made me what I am.

We are like water

shaped by one another

as drops of rain kiss the sand;

we are like water

colored by each other

as we lay down with the land.

This great land made me what I am.

guitar & lead vocal: David Gilligan

harmonica & harmony vocal: Kreg Viesselman

violin & harmony vocal: Jennie Duberstein

THE OPEN END

I'm out here standing on the open end

trying to sketch out a plan again,

and the sun, it feels like a faithful friend,

burning up my skin and my sense.

The world beneath my feet is spinning

like the stars above my head and I'm swimming

in time like the days, like my skin, it keeps changing,

got to lay down on this earth just to keep from falling.

(Got to lay down on this earth...)

To believe in darkness and light,

and to feel the consequences of life.

The sand of this desert feels like a million miles from home,

and the heat feels like memories of summers long gone;

when I stand I'll be walking and singing alone

to shelter my body and bury my bones.

(Won't you shelter me, help me...)

To believe in darkness and light,

and feel the consequences of life.

guitar, lead vocal, harmonica, mandolin: David Gilligan

violin: Jennie Duberstein

harmony vocals: Kreg Viesselman

THE GOLD IN CALIFORNIA

I have heard in the bones of the mountains

there's a shine light sunlight upon me;

and I do believe that it lacks not luster,

but sparkles like the stars all above me.

I have seen and now I'm going to California

to find my future in the ground;

I do believe in the gold that lies

in the mountainsides, it can be found.

The directions lie

between the land and the sky

as I throw my life out on the wind;

and I've said goodbye

because I don't think I'll be coming this way again.

If the words that I have heard prove only to be lies

like dark and shifty eyes, like a love that always dies,

I'll sit and watch the sunlight on the mountainside

and there will always be some gold left in my eyes.

I have seen and now I'm going to California

to find my future in the ground;

I do believe in the gold that lies

in the mountainsides, it can be found.

The directions lie

between the land and the sky

as I throw my life out on the wind;

and I've said goodbye

because I don't think I'll be coming this way again.

guitar, lead vocal, harmonica: David Gilligan

harmony vocals: Kreg Viesselman & Jennie Duberstein

THIRTY YEARS AFTER

He came west from Jersey

where the ships would roll in;

he'd been working in the harbor

'till they found him with a bottle of gin;

he fought just like a hero

for a reason he didn't know why

in a war that's now thirty years over

for you and I.

He still wears the coat of a soldier,

but the shoes of a bum;

there's a roar in his voice like a lion,

but his eyes are those of a lamb;

he says "I wish I'd been Achilles

and died that day

so I could dance with the angels

and maybe rise again.“

Now let's have another drink at the bar

where these memories won't haunt me anymore

and I can find an end to this war

that's been killing me o'er and o'er.

The tunes he hums are like concertinas

from down in Mexico;

and the books he carries are of faces and places

afar and ago;

and if you ask him why he can't get back on his feet again

he'll say it's because he can't make amends

with the children who died by his hate,

he can ask for forgiveness but God knows it's too late.

Now let's have another drink at the bar

where these memories won't haunt me anymore

and I can find an end to this war

that's been killing me o'er and o'er;

and these beers won't do it any longer,

I need some whiskey or a god or something stronger

that will make me feel a bit younger,

yes and might help me get some sleep--

it's been years since I had a good dream...

So let me rest my head on the floor,

I don't want to be awake anymore.

guitar & lead vocal: David Gilligan

violin: Jennie Duberstein

piano: Craig Patterson

harmony vocal: Kreg Viesselman

THE ROAD TO MARBLE CANYON

The road to Marble Canyon

is littered with sand and stones--

the stones are the color of the hair

of the women I've known,

and the sands are the number

of days apart we have grown.

The road to Marble Canyon

is covered with black velvet and stars--

the stars are the eyes of the daughters

of kings from afar,

and the velvet the feeling

of falling asleep in their arms.

The canyon cuts into the world

like a permanent scar--

a reminder of how deep we dug,

how long, and how far;

but as I wander inside of these walls

I can't find where you are.

I took the road to Marble Canyon,

it lingers like a feeling

of home, of leaving,

the softened light of evening.

guitar & lead vocals: David Gilligan

slide guitar: Gary Dunn

harmony vocals: Jennie Duberstein

HELL GOT BRIGHT

They came from over the big water hole

to save my conscience, save my soul;

wooden crosses in a wild land,

and paper books held in their hands.

They set up farms and grain they gave,

"come work for us and you'll be saved";

called us savages and made us slaves

as we walked the path to God they paved.

We listened to the tales they'd tell

that threatened we'd all burn in hell

lest we follow them into the light,

but next to their black robes even hell got bright.

We took to the hills with our lives,

but lost our children, lost our lives,

lost our chance to be redeemed

by a god who wanted slaves it seemed.

I sneak back to the fence sometimes

to see my people, try to change their minds;

I look into eyes in empty heads,

where the soul is saved but the spirit's dead.

guitar, lead vocal, djembe: David Gilligan

I AM A PATRIOT

(words and music by Steve Van Zandt)

guitar & lead vocal: David Gilligan

harmony vocals: Kreg Viesselman & Jennie Duberstein

BIGFOOT'S DAUGHTERS

My name comes from MacGiolligan

and the Irish lands of old,

my people came three fathers ago,

or so I'm told;

we landed on the eastern shore,

but our journey'd just begun,

and we manifested our destiny

until the west was won.

But last night I had the strangest dream

as I lay across my bed,

two Indian women came to me

and crept inside my head;

from Bigfoot the Lakota chief

who died at Wounded Knee,

his daughters came as messengers,

and this they spoke to me...

They said "we come from Bigfoot's seed

which is older than the old,

more ancient than the fertile soils

of the lands you bought and sold;

though our voices are but whispers,

they once were loud and bold,

and though our spirits lie in Bigfoot's grave,

still our story must be told.

We lived upon our fruited plains

like your Adam and your Eve,

and ran with greater herds of buffalo

than you could now believe;

ours was that same promised land

of which you preachers tell,

until we passed beneath your shadow

and your fiery gates of hell.

It started as the trappers

through the mountains they would roam,

then came the settlers

who called our land their home,

then came the soldiers,

you remember what they said,

'the only good Indian

is one that's dead'.

They cut the legs and tongues of the buffalo

and left them there to die,

and they cut the life from under us

with every single lie;

and in the name of Jesus

they crucified out kin,

except at Little Bighorn

where Custer died for your sins.

Remember Little Bighorn

where Custer died for your sins.

Then they gathered all the starving

wives and daughter and the sons

of the men who lay there dying

beneath the crimson sun;

and they pent us up as refugees,

fed us meat riddled with worms,

and warmed us with their smallpox blankets

infected with their germs.

When it seemed all hope had left us

we danced both day and night

to resurrect our ancestors

and set all things aright;

but our deaths were written on the steel

of the union soldier's gun,

and though our spirits lie in Bigfoot's grave,

our anger's just begun.

So sing this to your senators

and your congressmen as well,

and tell this to your president

of the United States of Hell;

tell this to your people now

in case they all forgot,

the people of America,

the race they left to rot.

And the spirit of our Crazy Horse

that you shot from behind

is coming back to haunt you

in the future you will find;

remember all the broken treaties

and all the lands you won,

because the sins of the fathers

will visit upon the sons.

The sins of all you fathers

will visit upon the sons.“

My name comes from MacGiolligan

and the Irish lands of old,

my people came three fathers ago,

or so I'm told;

we landed on the eastern shore,

but our journey'd just begun,

and we manifested out destiny

until the west was won.

guitar, lead vocal, harmonica: David Gilligan

COMING HOME AGAIN

Coming home again after so long

I near forgot what it feels like to belong;

and this place, like a song

of a holy light set in a world gone wrong.

And these log walls are arms around me,

and this fire inspires memories

of the friends who shared this place with me,

and the days we spent planting seeds.

There's many roads I've been down

with the sun in my eyes, always westward bound;

and the one thing I've found...

there's nothing like being homeward bound.

And when relationships get tired or fail,

and my friends, they all up and bail,

and there's nothing but bills in the mail,

and my body grows tired and frail,

I'll pull off the hat from my head,

and lay down across my own bed,

and sleep the sweet sleep of the dead

then wake up and keep living instead.

There's many roads I've been down

with the sun in my eyes, always westward bound;

and the one thing I have found...

there's nothing like being homeward bound.

guitar, harmonica, duet vocal: David Gilligan

duet vocal: Kreg Viesselman

violin: Jennie Duberstein

organ: Craig Patterson

Produced by David S.. Gilligan

Engineered and Mixed by Craig Patterson

All Songs published Sisyphus Syndrome Music, BMI 2000

except I Am a Patriot, published by Almo Music (Blue Midnight Music)

© 2000 David S. Gilligan

© 2000 PME Records

Recorded at Morningwood Studios, Jamestown CO

Mixed at PME Studios, Denver CO

Mastered by The Colorado Mastering Group

Manufactured by PME Records, Denver CO USA

Unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable law

Gary Paul Dunn - vocals and guitars/bass guitar

Rob Ousley - Bass guitar

Robby Douglass - Drums

Charles Billiris - Guitar/Keyboards

Time Machine was recorded in a weekend at Morningwood Studios in Jamestown, Colorado, and mixed at PME Records and Pinecliff Studios. This one's for all of our fans, whose unwavering... (more)

Gary Paul Dunn - vocals and guitars/bass guitar

Rob Ousley - Bass guitar

Robby Douglass - Drums

Charles Billiris - Guitar/Keyboards

Time Machine was recorded in a weekend at Morningwood Studios in Jamestown, Colorado, and mixed at PME Records and Pinecliff Studios. This one's for all of our fans, whose unwavering good will and support make our live shows a joy!

Time Machine features songs from our live shows that haven't been on any CD - until now. Plus burns Twice's newest tracks, including GarageBand.com's Song of the Week, "Not Last Night," are all here. Thanks again for supporting Colorado live music and Burns Twice!

Special thanks go to engineer and producer Craig Patterson of PME Records, Charles Billiris of Pinecliff studios, and Gary Dunn of Morningwood Studio! Thanks to Vickie Taylor for fiddle on Hotel Delaware and everyone who helped on this project!

Don't Say You're Down

(Eugene, Oregon - March and November 1999)

Don't say you're down, don't say you're down

'Til you're off your feet

And you're on the ground

Ground into nothing now

Don't say you're down

Don't say you're low, don't say you're low

'Til you're tired and spent

From spending your soul

And giving... (more)

Don't Say You're Down

(Eugene, Oregon - March and November 1999)

Don't say you're down, don't say you're down

'Til you're off your feet

And you're on the ground

Ground into nothing now

Don't say you're down

Don't say you're low, don't say you're low

'Til you're tired and spent

From spending your soul

And giving it to those who don't treat it like gold

Don't say you're low

For a tender heart isn't legal tender

To be tossed around by a thoughtless spender

Oh please, don't trade my heart!

I can't barter my heart

Like wares from a tinker's cart

Please don't trade my heart

I'm sure that I've paid my dues

In truck stops

With rough cops

Through my trunk they always peruse

But it's easy to give

When you've got nothing to lose

You see, I've always preferred being out on my own

Far from home

All alone

And it works out, 'cause being with you

Is like being alone

Don't say you're hurt, don't say you're hurt

'Til you've made peace

With the folks

That you've treated like dirt

And all the people you've touched

for better or worse

I'm worse for touching you

I'm worse for touching you

Yes, I'm worse, I'm worse, it's true! It's true!

I'm a harder man from dealing with you!

Longfellow's Chair

(The lyrics were inspired by a brief meeting

with Hobo Billy after a show in Longfellow's

Square in Portland, Maine)

Well there's evangelists out on Congress Street

They're screaming like hell for the Lord

Yet they found him behind the civic center

With no shoes on his feet

And his body as stiff as a board

If I couldn't count all of the money I made

I'd spend it on buying this town

And evict all those living

Up on the promenade

That keep passing me by with the crowd

CHORUS

I drink like a priest that's been lonely too long

Like the pink sinking sun in the West

Well there's green in the thoughts

Of my childhood songs

And there's blue in the heart in my chest

And to you who adorn your bodies in gold

And weigh worth by material gain

Don't forget that I flow

In the blood that I sold

That runs in your daughter's veins

And I'm no stranger to the charity pool hall

On the corner of Free Street and Brown

And I'm no stranger to the quaint

Equestrian cops

Who harass me for hanging around

CHORUS

So we circle the street like anonymous crows

No wealth, no friends, and no name

Well I entered the world

As naked as snow

And I'm fixin' on leavin' the same

CHORUS

...and there's blue in the heart in my chest

...and there's blue in the heart in my chest

Postcard From Lompoc

(On a picnic table north of Ft. Bragg - August 1999)

Mary, Mary, quite contrary

Your face is long

And your legs are hairy

Head so strong, you know it's kind of scary

You don't appreciate the blessings you own

So you took up running with some Cuban gal

With a navel ring and a parrot named Hal

Well you don't miss home now

But I think you shall

Your parents are worried sick you're gone

But in some Lompoc wayside rest one night

She pinched your guitar and she slipped out of sight

And you couldn't find her trail in the morning light

Oh, try as you might

So you thumbed a ride from this guy named Stan

With a desert air-brushed on the side of his van

But giving you a ride

Was only half of his plan

You see, Stan's in the mood for love

So when Stan slowed down when the light turned red

You gave him a karate-chop to the side of the head

And you ran down the street

With no idea where it led

But I know you're better off that way

From queen of the throne to thrown to the sharks

Well, you hitch hiked to town and you slept in the park

'Cause all the people go home when it starts

to turn dark

And that's when the lights dim

So you think of all the fun you had

Just trying to make your parents mad

By smokin' dope

And smellin' bad

What went wrong?

And you live off frozen 'tater-tots

And sell hackey-sacks out in parking lots

But oh, freedom! Man,

It still plagues your thoughts

Well, it's time to move along

And the way you search yourself these days

You'll make yourself crazy

Or you'll make it okay

But the world will keep spinnin'

Either way

Whether you take yourself out

Or decide you'll stay

Maybe you won't

But maybe you may

Still it's safer to rust

Than to burn away

My, my, hey, hey

Medicine Bow

(Driving across southern Wyoming, October' ' ' 1999)

Oh Medicine Bow

Where does she go?

Can you whisk me away

Where nobody knows?

And I feel me troubles, they fade

Oh, the farther she flows

You can't hold her down

I once knew a brave

Oh, he lived on the hill

And the looks that he gave

They trouble me still

And when I visit his grave

Oh, it brings me a chill

Even dying couldn't hold him down

When the Wyoming sun

Oh, it tie-dyes the clouds

And the nights hide the mountains

Like burial shrouds

Oh, it reminds me

How I've never liked crowds

You can't hold me down

Mercantile Complaint is for the Jamestownians

Musicians

Kreg Viesselman - Vocals, guitar, harmonica, Jew's harp

Jennie Duberstein - Fiddle, background vocals

Nolan Farmer - Dobro

Dave Gilligan - Mandolin, hand-clapping, hootin' and hollerin', general rowdiness

Kevin Roper - Piano, background vocals

Gary Dunn - Background vocals, beer bottle smashing

All songs written by Kreg Viesselman

Photography by Jennie Duberstein

Thanks

Craig Patterson for donuts and off-colored humor; Jennie Duberstein for being the best pal a guy could hope for; Gary Dunn, Nolan and Nancy Farmer for a ton of help; Dave and Kevin for many years of friendship and music - thanks also

to the Viesselmans, Rochelle, Alani and Samuel, the Eugene Kiwis, Crockett the token Aussie and Dave Wright, the Russell clan, Janie and Matt Helt, Terry "spell check offers no suggestion for my last name" Grunzke, Will Leggett (thanks for the "surfing Cali" guide), Kris, Neil, and Zelda, the Du ma house, Marsh Commons Co-housing in Arcata, Wildflower and Ruth, Traci Wright, Melissa Cooper, Monica Augustine, Lauren Augusta, Charles Haymes, Tim Schindler, Steph Gifford, Patrick and the Butterfly Ranch.

Thanks also to Taj Mahal, Ellis Paul, Mike Miclon, Raycharles LaMontagne, John Booker, Rich Nolen, Mike Beelner, David Jacob-Strain, the San Onofre Morning Surf Club, the Kane Reunion, the Cal-wood ensemble, Elizabeth Ousley, Radio-Free Ned, Amadeus Music and the Rose Cottage in Portland, Maine, Ore-Ida, and especially, Opal Viesselman.

Here's to Mickey, the Conch, Billy, Jimbo the Hobo, and the all the others... maybe we'll meet again

All songs published by Sisyphus Syndrome Music, BMI

Recorded at Morningwood Studios, Jamestown, CO

Mixed at PME Studios, Denver, CO

Bonus live tracks recorded at the Willamette Valley Folk Festival on May 21, 2000, Eugene, Oregon.

Manufactured by PME Records, Denver, CO

Copyright 2000 Kreg Viesselman

This composition, Charlie’s Suite, was inspired by experiences and work I did at a workshop called Fathers, Sons, & Brothers conducted in Lindrith, New Mexico during June of 2006. F, S, & B is a men’s retreat based on the work of Virginia Satir. My father’s ancestral line was used in a piece to illustrate... (more)

This composition, Charlie’s Suite, was inspired by experiences and work I did at a workshop called Fathers, Sons, & Brothers conducted in Lindrith, New Mexico during June of 2006. F, S, & B is a men’s retreat based on the work of Virginia Satir. My father’s ancestral line was used in a piece to illustrate the process of claiming and how my male ancestors had come to know how to claim a child and behave as fathers. We went back into my family history identifying and mapping the families of my father, Brian, my grandfather, Felix, my great grandfather, Roscoe, and my great, great grandfather, Charlie. When we met Charlie in the story, we hit a wall, we really couldn’t know who he was except that he was a slave in Texas. We didn’t know if he was born here or in Africa...we didn’t know if he knew his father...we didn’t even really know his name. We called him Charlie just to call him something. Just touching him as an unknown fact of my ancestral line was a powerful moment for me.

This composition was written for Charlie.

In learning the story of Charlie and his descendants down to me I found a tragically, beautiful twist in the story. My great-grandfather Roscoe was born inTexas during 1864. Roscoe may have been born into slavery. Word of the end of the Civil War didn’t reach Texas until June 19th, 1865 when Union Forces landed at Galveston. Roscoe was the son of Ann Neal, Charlie’s daughter, a woman of African and Native American heritage who was seen as Black by her owner. She was raped on numerous occasions by her owner. Roscoe was the product of such a rape. Roscoe was “white enough” to be offered the opportunity to declare himself white on a census form. Ann is the link to Charlie that makes a composition about my male ancestors possible, and so this piece is also about her and the love I feel for her because of her part in the story.

Charlie’s Suite, Part I

1) Charlie’s Theme

I tried to write a simple, yet lyrical, theme for the opening section. I hope it sounds ‘sweet’ to you, and I hope you can hear the blues under it all as a pleasing, bittersweet, beautiful pain. Meeting Charlie left me wanting to express my appreciation for his gift to me through my family. So let me tell you about him through this music.

2) Ann Neal’s Interlude

This transitional piece appeared between the first two sections after I had ‘finished’ the suite, but before I had heard Ann’s story from my father. I figured the section belonged to her.

3) Africa

I don’t know what part of Africa that Charlie, or his people, came from...odds are we’re talking West Africa.

I wrote the rhythm in seven; seven sounds like Africa to me. The melodies just came together over the rhythm.

4) Middle Passage

When I ran a search on the Web about the Middle Passage the number of sites and entries was over 6,000,000. The number of people who made the trip may have been triple that over the 350 some years of the Atlantic slave trade. I could find no reliable consensus about the numbers of slaves traded or the number of Africans who perished along the way. After the first ship leaves for the New World what difference does the exact number make...the die was cast and the done deed become part of what Europe and America kept doing for the next two or three centuries. The whole thing is a human travesty of monumental proportions...I can’t really say how I feel about it...too much pain. I wrote this section for solo piano and I hurt when I play it...

I probably want you to hurt with me when you listen.

Part II

5) White and Black

This section was written for Roscoe, my great-grandfather. Roscoe was born in 1864 in Texas. He and his family moved to Booneville in Central Missouri when he was 14 or 15. As a Union Slave State, Missouri has always been ambiguous at best for African-Americans. I don’t know what it was like in the mid-1870s. Roscoe hit the road as a teenager with a friend, Turkey Tom, and lived pretty much like a murderous outlaw for the next 25 or 30 years. He was almost lynched for killing a man who slapped his wife. He stuck the ‘O’ on the Neal of his last name to make it easier to hide. Later in life he settled in Oklahoma and started a church. By the time he died during WWII he had redeemed himself and was something of a hero to his community there. My grandfather Felix was born in 1904, the 9th or 10th child in a family of 18. The last time Felix saw his father was when he was 5-years-old; Roscoe was waving goodbye hanging from the side of departing freight train. The section is in two parts: the first part is a nod to ragtime and stride piano. the bridge is played in straight time with no syncopation. Roscoe lived as a Black Man with the option to move over the tracks with the White People.

6) Felix Bebop

The line for Grandfather Felix’s section is built around a ‘Parker Blues’ progression. Charlie Parker wrote the first tunes over this progression.

7) Good Time Charlie’s Blues

My father, Brian, was born in 1953 in Kansas City. Ironically, he was called ‘Charlie’ by my grandfather because he would start dancing to a TV show called Good Time Charlie or something. I tried to write something that sounded like the type of jazz that was being played in the early to mid-60s when Brian was 10-years-old or so. I’ve always loved the music of Wayne Shorter and I looked to some of his ‘walking ballads’ from the mid-60s like House of Jade when I wrote this section.

8) Panther

My father left home when he was 11-years-old and took to living by his wits on the street. He became something of a teenage Roscoe by the time he was 16 or 17. I’m sure if it hadn’t been for my Uncle Pete, his older brother, he probably would not have survived his twenties. Uncle Pete joined the Black Panther Party becoming the head of the Kansas City Chapter. He recruited my father and inspired him to turn his life around. I don’t know what the Panthers mean to you or anybody else...but in my community the Panthers were seen in a positive light. I suppose the Panthers were naive in some of their politics, but we saw them as revolutionaries...heroes.

9) Back Home Where I’ve Never Been

In time the Panthers were destroyed from the outside as they became corrupted from the inside. My Uncle Pete left the country to escape from the authorities and has lived as an exile in Tanzania for the last 30 years where he has remained politically active. When the Panthers were destroyed my father saw it as the destruction of a dream. Disillusioned, he went back to the street life. Pete stayed in contact and convinced him to emigrate to Tanzania. When my father got there he told me that he cried...cried for finding a place where Black was just the color of his skin, not a bulls-eye on his soul. Rick wrote this piece when a friend of his was dying of cancer.

But it never sounded like that was what it was about...it sounds like what this section is about.

Part III

10) Wedding Song

In Tanzania, Brian met my mother, Mafutari Swai, in the village where they both lived. They are still married and live in Kansas City in my grandparents house. Rick had already written most of this for another wedding.

11) Muji Swai-O’Neal

I was born in Tanzania and lived my first three and a half years there. For my father, returning to Africa and having a child with an African woman was like a reconnection that brought him and me back into the life stream that would have been our home if not for the reality of slavery in our history. I was named Harold, but my mother and father still call me by my African Name, Muji. We lived the whole National Geographic bit in the country side, drum circles most nights while something was cooked on an open fire. I have memories from that time that I still confuse with moving and living back in US. After my younger sister died my parents brought me to America.

I wrote this section with little ‘Motown’ ornaments on the melody.

12) Wat Wuz Ur Name, Charlie

I still don’t know his name...probably never will. Doesn’t really matter that much anyway. All of us can trace it back to some nameless hero to whom we owe it all. We’re all at the end of an unbroken chain that started

somewhere in East Africa. Haven’t they traced it back to a female hominid they call ‘Lucy’?

Why not call her husband...everybodies’ father..., Charlie?

13) Charlie’s Sweet Cadenza

Thank you for listening to the story of my ‘Charlie’.

Harold and Rick would like to thank the following people

without whom

all of this would not have been necessary:

Steven Young, Bill Packer, John Elliott, and the men of F, S, & B ‘06 for their part in the composition, especially Chris Rasheed who played ‘Charlie’, Larry, Debbie, David and Michael Thompson for opening their home to us, Michelle Ryan and Dean Chapla and everybody else who got the posters out in Boulder, Matt Mayfield for the picture, Larry Bermann for the karate, everybody at the Boulder Center for Human Validation and Peoplemaking of Colorado, Donna Gail, Mary Hubbard, Rabbit, and the crowd up Left Hand Canyon who listened the first time, Craig Patterson and Gary Dunn at PME Records, Everett Freeman, Bobby Watson, Greg Osby, Jeff ‘Tain Watts, Andrew Hill, Wynton Marsalis, and Herbie Hancock for their tangible support and encouragement, Ed Bame and Martha and all the AKKA people in Kansas City, El Paso, Pueblo, Juarez, and Boulder...especially the people running schools: Mike Acosta, Santiago and Kari Barela, Tom and Dee Burt, Adrian Cordova, Matt and Michelle McDaniel, Sam and Katie Middleton, Jeff Nell and Andrea Jonson, Anthony Williams, Christina Williams, and the best Republican Mike Mentesana, Brian, Mafutari, Hakim, Alifa, and Chalis O’Neal, Lennie Bruce, Kenny Kirkland, Keith Jarrett, Pat Metheny, Jimi, Oscar De La Hoya, Johnny Tapia, Ali, Bruce Lee, Kwai Chang, Master Po, Keye Luke, Pat Morita, Kirk Russell, Roy Searcy, Steve Harvey, Sam Johnson and John Nichols from the House Band du Jour, Sonny Kenner, Jay McShann, Michael Brecker, John Scofield, Walter Reuther, Mother Jones, Elvin Jones, Joe Jones, Bobby Jones, Tiger Woods, Joe Frazier, George Foreman, Picasso, Matisse, Paul Klee, Tony Soprano, Christopher, Marlon Brando, Adam Kabak, Lawrence Leathers, Kevin Cerovich, Ray Reed, Joe Leaphorn, Jim Chee, Dave Robicheaux, Alexis Arquelo Matthew Sahaad Muhammed, Dwight Braxton, Mickey Ward, Arturo Gatti, Jack Johnson, Bird and Diz, Ken Kesey, Moorey Amsterdam, Buddy Hackett, Rose Marie, Aleister Crowley, Gurdjieff, Vlad the Impaler, George Clinton, Bootsy, Jed Clampett, Milburne Drysdale, Titian, Canaletto, Paula Poundstone, Richard Brautigan, William Carlos Williams, William Butler Yeats, Alan Ginsburg, Jack Kerouac, Kurt Vonnegut, Franz Kafka, Dosteovesky, Camus, Sartre, Gide, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Ornette Coleman, Lawrence Block, Leon Russell, Ollie Gates, Colonel Sanders, Arthur Bryant, Marcel Duchamp, The Zig Zag Man, Yogi Bear, Boo Boo, Desi Arnaz, William Frawley, Vivian Vance, all the Lounge musicians in Vegas, Matthew Atkinson, Daniel Boorstin, Muddy Waters, Les Paul, Leo Fender, Moondog, Lisa, Logan and Peter, and....well, er...ah....everybody.

The Harold O’Neal Project

with Rick Gibbins on Guitar

Produced by Harold O’Neal

Recorded and mixed by Craig Patterson at The Fun House for PME Records

Mastered at The Colorado Mastering Group

All songs © 2007 Harold O’Neal

and

Published 2007 Sisyphus Syndrome Music, BMI

This sound recording © 2007 PME Records

Photo by Matt Mayfield, interpretation by Larry Thompson. Layout by PME Records.

All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized duplication is a violation of applicable law.

1. DIDN'T MATTER THAT 3:04

WRITTEN BY MIKAL BLUE

PUBLISHED BY OPIUM FOR THE PEOPLE MUSIC (ASCAP)

PRODUCED BY CRAIG PATTERSON

VOCAL PRODUCER: GARY DUNN

RECORDED AT THE FUNHOUSE, DENVER, CO

STRINGS RECORDED AT BULGARIAN NATIONAL RADIO STUDIO, SOFIA, BULGARIA

CHOIR RECORDED AT GRACE CHAPEL, ENGLEWOOD, CO

RECORDED... (more)

1. DIDN'T MATTER THAT 3:04

WRITTEN BY MIKAL BLUE

PUBLISHED BY OPIUM FOR THE PEOPLE MUSIC (ASCAP)

PRODUCED BY CRAIG PATTERSON

VOCAL PRODUCER: GARY DUNN

RECORDED AT THE FUNHOUSE, DENVER, CO

STRINGS RECORDED AT BULGARIAN NATIONAL RADIO STUDIO, SOFIA, BULGARIA

CHOIR RECORDED AT GRACE CHAPEL, ENGLEWOOD, CO

RECORDED IN THE USA BY CRAIG PATTERSON

RECORDED IN BULGARIA BY GERGI TRENEV AND PAVEL BOLIARSKI

BULGARIAN RECORDING MUSIC PRODUCER: STEFKA MAZDRAKOVA

MIXED AT PME RECORDS BY CRAIG PATTERSON

2. WHATEVER'S WRITTEN IN YOUR HEART 5:09

WRITTEN BY GERRY RAFFERTY

PUBLISHED BY STAGE THREE MUSIC (BMI)

PRODUCED BY CRAIG PATTERSON

VOCAL PRODUCER: GARY DUNN

RECORDED AT THE FUNHOUSE, DENVER, CO

STRINGS RECORDED AT BULGARIAN NATIONAL RADIO STUDIO, SOFIA, BULGARIA

CHOIR RECORDED AT GRACE CHAPEL, ENGLEWOOD, CO

RECORDED IN THE USA BY CRAIG PATTERSON

RECORDED IN BULGARIA BY GERGI TRENEV AND PAVEL BOLIARSKI

BULGARIAN RECORDING MUSIC PRODUCER: STEFKA MAZDRAKOVA

MIXED AT PME RECORDS BY CRAIG PATTERSON

PIANO: GREG MATHIESON

MASTERED BY HERB POWERS, JR. AT PM ENTERTAINMENT

STRINGS: PHILHARMONIKA BULGARIA

CONDUCTOR - CHRISTO PAVLOV

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ROSSEN KAZANDJIEV

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VIOLAS

ANI SEYKOVA

ALBENA HRISTOVA

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CELLOS

NIKOLA DAMYANOV

EMIL DIMITROV

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BASSES

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CHOIR:

CHOIRMASTER: NATHAN STUART

MEMBERS

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FROM THE UPCOMING RELEASE “ONE”

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