![]() ![]() He is expressing his regret, from the hear and now, for how he treated her, for who he was then. There are a number of road and river related songs on Trace (Tear Stained Eye is another one thats highly recommended.). Ultimately she has to go “into that room alone” to have the abortion. She is “digging her nails into the styrofoam (cup)” full of fear and anxiety over this “pickle”. Knocks her up, admits he “couldn’t be somebody’s father, he couldn’t even boil a pot of water”. A young guy has a girlfriend, he puts her through hell. Like literally the same girl.Įdit: and I think it’s one of Jason’s less “subtle” songs. I knew the setting, the “vignette” before I ever pressed play. I just know that car, and that time, and that girl. Don’t keep it close to the vest.Īnd obviously, I said it was my initial thoughts just looking at the title. Well don’t be cryptic…share your deeper gleamed meaning hombre. To have an artist who paints in the colors of your memories…who works in the media of your nostalgia and heartache and dreams. Capo 3 D G Walkin down Main Street, gettin to know the concrete A D Lookin for a purpose from a neon sign. It is such a beautiful thing to have your own poet laureate for your generation (too broad a word), for your specific and unique experience on this planet…in places like Vestavia Hills, or Green Hill, or Florence, or Gadsden. I can smell the Debbie Gibson Electric Youth perfume on the cloth seats, even now. Get a sense of moving, of flying away, knowing you had to come back eventually…but letting the wind through those base model manual roll down windows…blow your troubles away. Those “girl cars” that Southern dads bought their little Princesses, that they turned around and invited smelly, lost boys with big hearts, muddled minds, and mixed intentions into…just to drive. ![]() Son Volt was in the CD Changer or that Barretta or that Cavalier convertible, or that Fiero, or that Sunbird. I’ve been in THAT car, with THAT girl, listening to THAT song or THAT album….feeling THAT feeling. And let me tell you what, as soon as I saw the title to “White Baretta” I knew it was going to be about riding with a girl in her car, road trips to the nearest “real” city…lookin for something to ease the pain, or something beautiful to bust up. Especially since we are both “from” the same place (rural Alabama), and time (90’s kids). ![]() Jason’s lyrics, the mental imagery they create, have a unique ability to slingshot me like a DeLorean back to a very specific time and place in my life. “May the wind blow your troubles away…” indeed. ![]()
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