Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
All proceeds from the sale of this album will go to Andrew's wife Emma, their little girl Charlotte, and their coming child. You may download the album for free, but I urge you to pay what you can for it to help support Andrew's family.
Anyone who knew Andrew, or had only met him, knew that he lived most of his life in music. In fact, I don’t know of anyone who ever met him without his guitar on. So it was natural, when those of us who first learned of his sudden death and were struck down and sick at heart—, it was natural that we only wanted to hear songs, and only songs that reminded us of him.
The three days after his death were like a dream. Irving was still. Cottonwood seeds gently floated about in a cool and distant light, then drizzling rain and delicate rainbows. We all came together as suddenly as the news came, holed up in one or two Old Mill apartments, only trying to wait out the invisible storm. Paul cooked, when no one would eat. Quiet shuffling of feet inside; sitting, standing, and leaning outside. We smoked cigarettes, and waited, suspended, dreaming of Esherick’s face, his movements (“what a beautiful face I have found in this place”)—how good it would be only to see his silhouette bobbing across Northgate (“let me hold it close and keep it here with me”).
But there was consolation in the guitar and in the songs. Before long, music is pouring out from the trenches (“how the notes all bend and reach above the trees”). Lilting melodies, and resounding choruses, the tracks divided only by tears, embraces, and fond fragments of liner notes. Nate says, “I’ve got one for the old boy,” or from Thomas, “he always liked this one.” Then Dan takes the guitar, “he used to say all the time that this was the last thing he wanted to hear before he died.” And the guitar makes its way from balcony to balcony, and room to room, as well travelled as Andrew. And each of us thinking, I can “hear [his] voice as it's rolling and ringing through me.”
credits
released May 1, 2015
Taylor Posey
Brian Hawersaat
Becky Garcia
Thomas Lowery
Ben Lowery
Nate Lowery
Tom Farris
Jacob Reilly
Michael Malpiedi
Austin Walker
Daniel Carlson
Paul Gautier
Charlie Turner
Rob Turner
Logan Swanson
Bebe Bloch
Daniel Kopako
Ellen Turner
And the many other friends who shared this night with us and joined in Chorus
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 15, 2024
Percussionist and sound artist Riccardo La Foresta joins musician and producer James Ginzburg for a fluid collaborative experiment. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 4, 2024
Stirring Americana set to acoustic arrangements and topped by the legendary Alice Gerrard’s lovely, world-wise voice. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 23, 2023