![]() 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. 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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