Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Matt Oliver, Mastered by Sam Patlove
"Don't you be disturbed by a month of Sundays/Not by a day/Not by a week of them/There's wood in broken hills/In the ruins of broken hills." - "Wood In Broken Hills"
Mark Olson sings these words on this session, recorded down in Austin, Texas, last year. The sentiment here seems to be something like, "Be happy with what you get, with what you have." Sundays could be substituted with any of the other six and the message would be the same. The idea here is that too much of a similarly tinted day will lead to depression and a feeling of stagnancy. A Sunday is supposed to be uneventful and lazy - full of sitting around, reflective consistencies and waiting around until the sun finally goes down and then wondering how it got so quickly away from you. Days can be gone, but they're never past us. They're always still within reach and they're always wanted back no matter how often they're shooed.
Shadows fall and we celebrate them. It's that attitude of moving on, of proceeding and progressing, just checking another one off the list that gets us going, as if any of that should matter. It's a survival mentality, but it should be embraced lightly. Olson, a member of the legendary Minneapolis group, The Jayhawks, writes about the discretion that our triumphs often reveal themselves. He sings, "Our lives have meaning, fixed behind veils," and it seems to be what he's getting at when he sings about there being wood in the broken hills. If you're able to get down on your hands and knees and look a little closer, there's likely enough wood out there amongst the ruins to build a new house with. Cold winds can stir fears, but Olson chooses to "praise the love and praise the light of the day."