Heatherfield

by Silver Torches

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1.
Oh that night you locked me out on the street I was rueful and anxious Went stumbling along with a buck in my palm To tip a bartender thankless Mumbling drunk through a sea of words I was searching for purpose The night was alive and young But the air still burned like a furnace Tried to find the door Where my old man came of age in Sacramento Took a rest at a store with a red tile floor Bought some warm green Jello There’s a woman in rust Collecting change for a bus to get her home She’s a bit uneasy But don’t mind the feeling of being alone I’m tired and aimlessly roam There’s nowhere I’m looking to go I just follow the lines of the road I follow the lines of the road
2.
04:16
At a dive on the hill with Noah He's a friend I'll take to the end Sipping beers talking records and women And the hours wasted on them Start thinking about a girl from Ohio And the night she showed me some skin Fell asleep on the floor of her bedroom Though her sheets were calling me in Cal I know we haven't talked in a while I haven't seen your face in three years Somehow it's hard to pick up the dial It's so easy to disappear Cal Drove that long road up the mountain In the town where we gave up the ghost Got as far along as your doorstep Before my conscious told me to go Cal
3.
05:09
We’re up late on the deck Sunburned on our necks Smoking straights In the glow of the porchlight I’ve been toying around with a quick ride into town Thinking I’d find her with her girls At the Redwood or the Twilight But I’m warm and I’m round And content on sipping down This watery brown with a blood cherry sinking Lost my keys in the creases and folds of the couch And I don’t feel much like driving Or leaving anyhow There’s a fire tonight Nearby that burns so bright Seemed like days those sirens were singing I lay out on the lawn where the dew had settled on To be still And calm my thinking It’s hard to feel alive sometimes When nothing seems enough to keep my satisfied On the way up to my room The faces blurry now and so askew I swear I felt the whole world move The fairweathered had gone When I passed out cold and long In my shoes and Goodwill jacket It’s late enough for the robin’s hungry song And the humming tides Of traffic Around noon I awake To the mailman’s weary groan My body’s sore and my will is sinking My shift starts soon but my mind is numb like stone Still choking back whatever I’d been drinking
4.
03:51
Last call had come and gone And we're the last ones at the party When the band starts up a song Oh the way she moves her body I'm head over heels She's the only thing that's real I forget to ask her name I forget to tie the tether She embarks at the refrain So I stumble chasing after On the way to the car Cannons in the dark She fades into light She fades into morning Alone on the pier Nothing for me here As Saturday night Fades into Sunday A year begins again
5.
03:57
It’s been so long since the last time I saw you I think it was the winter of ‘04 You were playing songs you wrote For Francis and Orlando At your apartment on the kitchen floor I don’t know why I can’t find the time to call you Don’t know where or why things went so wrong I miss our late night beer runs in the summer Watching Die Hard And drinking with your mom Old friend where have you gone? I hear your sister is keeping the child Heard you hitched up with that Swedish girl I wish I’d been there When your old man cashed his chips in Wish I’d been around to make you smile Old friend it’s been awhile Let’s grab a drink and talk it over Raise a glass to better years getting older It’s such a chore to make amends We’ve been waiting too long Don’t matter who was right or wrong Old friend where have you gone?
6.
02:46
7.
03:24
I was a dreamer With a plan for the world A golden child With sails unfurled With a vision I made a promise to myself I’d get a house and a dog and a girl And all would be well I’d be a king I’d be a king to everyone I’d stay honest Keep my head on the ground I'd like here all my life Never a stranger to the town I’d light a fire When your hands were getting cold I’d skip the punchline When the joke had gotten old I’d be a king I’d be a king to everyone And they all would know my name Five in the morning Wake up feeling like a mess The house is dark and cold I lost my job like the rest Make some breakfast Spill some coffee on my chest I break the kettle Slam the door, leave the nest I was ashamed My head was in flames I’d never be the king Never the king I thought I’d be To anyone You or me
8.
I’ve been driving all night Out on State Route 27 Slugging on a bottle of wine From the south hill 7-Eleven And I’ve got Big Star blaring Eyes out for cops in the mirror I turn off my headlights To get high from the fear I don’t know where I’m going Out here the world looks sedate Cruising down the highway In my dad’s old Chevrolet Make my way past the hideout Where the kids go to get high Post Rocky Horror picture show Dressed up like Furtur’s Golden Boy And I drive over twin bridges Still love the smell of my street I’m homesick for a feeling That won’t quit me or retreat Someday I think I’ll move back here And buy a hosue for dirt cheap Settle down, grow old and be dug In the ground next to Dorothy and Pete Nothing’s the same but this still feels just like home I’ll haunt the bars with Nathan We’ve been buds since thirteen He’s still making me laugh Until I can barely breathe Someday this weight will be lifted Someday I’ll finally sleep Someday I’ll make some sense of it all In this worn out driver’s seat

about

"...(Woman In Rust) ends exactly too soon: It builds and builds, piling on pleasing ingredients en route to just one grand chorus, at which point it pulls a quick fade. I've actually cranked it in my car, hit the final seconds and exclaimed, "No!" — at which point I've had to start the whole thing over again." - Stephen Thompson (NPR)

"...an impeccably crafted set of folk-tinged pop-rock reminiscent at times of Ryan Adams. The album features a warm, often-melancholy sound combining acoustic and electric guitars and a variety of keyboards with Walters' raspy vocals, heartfelt lyrics and wistful melodies." - Don Yates,
(KEXP)

"... Walters’s music tells a story, whether of an old friend or a long drive, and those stories are bound to trigger some memories.” - Lemonade Magazine

"...a soothing sonic delight in our overly-compressed world." - NW Music Scene

credits

released January 1, 2016

Produced by Steven Aguilar
Music and lyrics by Erik Walters

Recorded in Seattle, WA at Soundhouse Studio, The Hall of Justice and a barn on Orcas Island

Engineered and mixed by Steven Aguilar
Additional engineering by Andy D. Park and Henri Bardot
Mastered by Ed Brooks - Resonant Mastering
Cover photo by Erik Walters
Design by Erik Walters

Erik Walters - Vocals, Guitars, Bass, Piano, Organ, Synth
Sean Lane - Drums, Percussion, Bike
Emily Westman - Piano
Steven Aguilar - BGVs, Synth
Henri Bardot - Organ
Ed Brooks - Pedal Steel

© 2016 Erik J. Walters | All rights reserved
Publishing as administered by Rough Trade Songs (BMI)

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Silver Torches Seattle, Washington

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