Southern Lullaby

Its one day past November 1st as I sit and listen to a recording of Sam Beam from an Iron and Wine performance recorded last year at the 9:30 club in Washington, D.C. I went into Garage Band and edited the 38-minute performance down to about a four minute and two second clip of the song I liked most from the recording called Hickory.

Its important you understand that Sam appears to be a man who cant sing or write a song unless it deals with some element of hell or the redemption from it. Sam suffers from a disease that all Southerners deal with, one that keeps us from seeing the world in anything but absolutes, one that keeps us seeing the world in anything but right and wrong, one that’s keeps us from seeing the world as anything but a struggle between heaven and hell. Unless you are from the South you may have a very hard time understanding what I am saying.

It’s also important that you understand that Sam's song writing is his way of dealing with the world he grew up in. A world of unspoken obligations, a world of contradictions, a world of false pretense. Sam grew up in his own reality. Why do I know this you ask? Well, because I to grew up in that world. When I hear Sam sing I can hear myself in everything he says. I can hear the struggle in his voice. The struggle to move past all that he was taught to believe and into all that he now chooses to believe.

I stand with Sam between heaven and hell, holding hands with the sinners and the saints hoping for something better.