In the late summer of 2020, Susan and I sold our house in NC, and after 10 years away, found our way home to OH. I wrote ‘Healing Heart’ about our return and the opportunity it gave us to invest in ourselves and heal from a tough year. Days after finishing the lyrics, I injured my left hand. Singing this song helped ground me during the long recovery.
I wrote ‘River Queen’ during one of my episodic dives into choral music. It starts with the sound of NC bullfrogs (slowed down and played in three choirs) followed by thick vocals from two (human) choirs, and, because I love the sound of them, my rusty, old garden shears!
The oldest track, ‘Lay Your Head Down Low,’ was written in fall of 2018. I was alone in our home as the fall winds blew outside, and, thinking of my daughter’s impending birth, I began to write a lullabye. The lyrics crystallized on a hike with our dog, Benji. As I listened to the whispering loblolly pines, I recounted a winter’s day sleeping on pine boughs in a snowy wood.
The title track, ‘Ohio River City,’ is a tale of two river cities (Cincinnati on the Ohio River and Lorain on the Black River). By the time I wrote this in the summer of 2019, we were set on returning to Ohio, though the ‘when’ and ‘how’ were still undecided. I talk about stars as a guide in this song. Star imagery crept into my lyrics over-and-over in this album.
Late in 2018, Susan took a job in Ithaca, NY, where she lived for three months. I drove up with her, and I fondly remember our late night walks through moonlit fields of goldenrod and aster. It was a sorrowful parting, though, and back at home, I sat down at my piano and wrote ‘When the Moon Is Rising’ as a gift to Susan.
I wrote ‘Raven’ in 2019 just before the birth of my daughter. Like many of my songs, it’s an amalgamation of memories and images: foraging among dewey red buds early one morning, the pale moon watching Susan and I cross the NC state line, and the stars.
I do sometimes have melodies ringing in my ears when I awake. While visiting my family in winter of 2019, I awoke singing a simple, happy melody with a few lyrics about riding a train. Before getting out of bed that morning, I completed ‘Cannonball.’
As my daughter grew, and bedtime became my duty in spring of 2020, I often found the word ‘Hush’ on my lips as she wiggled in her crib. I am most pleased with the a capella bridge, which I imagine to be a montage of all those nights I lay in bed next to the crib, soothing Adella with my voice.
‘Lonestar’ contains the Latin phrase “lux aeterna luceat eis,” which I interpret not in the traditional religious context, but in a cosmological one: the cosmic background radiation, once a burning white glow, now cooled and red shifted beyond the visible spectrum, changed but forever present.
I wrote and recorded Ohio River City through a birth, two moves, a global pandemic, personal crises, great love, and incredible support ... To put it another way, these songs map my family’s incredible adventures from late 2018 through early 2021.
I wrote ‘River Queen’ during one of my episodic dives into choral music. It starts with the sound of NC bullfrogs (slowed down and played in three choirs) followed by thick vocals from two (human) choirs, and, because I love the sound of them, my rusty, old garden shears!
The oldest track, ‘Lay Your Head Down Low,’ was written in fall of 2018. I was alone in our home as the fall winds blew outside, and, thinking of my daughter’s impending birth, I began to write a lullabye. The lyrics crystallized on a hike with our dog, Benji. As I listened to the whispering loblolly pines, I recounted a winter’s day sleeping on pine boughs in a snowy wood.
The title track, ‘Ohio River City,’ is a tale of two river cities (Cincinnati on the Ohio River and Lorain on the Black River). By the time I wrote this in the summer of 2019, we were set on returning to Ohio, though the ‘when’ and ‘how’ were still undecided. I talk about stars as a guide in this song. Star imagery crept into my lyrics over-and-over in this album.
Late in 2018, Susan took a job in Ithaca, NY, where she lived for three months. I drove up with her, and I fondly remember our late night walks through moonlit fields of goldenrod and aster. It was a sorrowful parting, though, and back at home, I sat down at my piano and wrote ‘When the Moon Is Rising’ as a gift to Susan.
I wrote ‘Raven’ in 2019 just before the birth of my daughter. Like many of my songs, it’s an amalgamation of memories and images: foraging among dewey red buds early one morning, the pale moon watching Susan and I cross the NC state line, and the stars.
I do sometimes have melodies ringing in my ears when I awake. While visiting my family in winter of 2019, I awoke singing a simple, happy melody with a few lyrics about riding a train. Before getting out of bed that morning, I completed ‘Cannonball.’
As my daughter grew, and bedtime became my duty in spring of 2020, I often found the word ‘Hush’ on my lips as she wiggled in her crib. I am most pleased with the a capella bridge, which I imagine to be a montage of all those nights I lay in bed next to the crib, soothing Adella with my voice.
‘Lonestar’ contains the Latin phrase “lux aeterna luceat eis,” which I interpret not in the traditional religious context, but in a cosmological one: the cosmic background radiation, once a burning white glow, now cooled and red shifted beyond the visible spectrum, changed but forever present.
I wrote and recorded Ohio River City through a birth, two moves, a global pandemic, personal crises, great love, and incredible support ... To put it another way, these songs map my family’s incredible adventures from late 2018 through early 2021.