Here weÕll post songs as they emerge.
IÕd been thinking about trying to write a hymn since early 2006. Hymn singing in church was one of my first exposures to group music growing up. So I had bought some musicology books on American hymns and spiritual music in early 2006, leafed through them and then sort of put it in the back of my mind until Fall 2007. About that time Viv Nesbitt of Art of the Song had asked me if I wouldnÕt write up something about how music had enhanced my life in the past couple of years (weÕd been talking about recent choral tours to Europe and singing around at folk open mikes). Pete Kennedy closed one of our dream workshops with a Woody Guthrie reading where Woody was talking about the Word that encompassed all words. Suddenly the idea for this hymn crystallized. It just took me a while to learn it and work out a solo guitar accompaniment. Studio Recording Draft Nov 2007
In June 2006 a local healthy (and yummy!) foods store not to be named announced it would suspend the sale of live lobsters. In captivity, they argued, the lobsters werenÕt reaching their full potential as beings. Some local chefs thought this silly, witness a Globe article at that time. I personally think that lobsters and humans are involved in the same cosmic cycle of reciprocal need and respect that weÕve seen in Plains Native Americans and buffalo. I also have heartily enjoyed every lobster IÕve ever eaten. Out of this conflict, I thought, a song could arise, but I needed an angle. One night I had it: What could they do with the ones they hadnÕt sold when the ban started? IÕm happy to report they did the right thing. There are still 48 lobsters living at the store in Cambridge; this is their story. Copyright Rick Drost, All Rights Reserved, Boston Hills Music, 2007. Enjoy. The song is dedicated to my Aunt Betty, who encouraged me to write this song when I told her the idea (over a family reunion lobster and steak dinner on Lake Erie last summer), and to her (late) sisters Carol (my mother) and Jane, all of whom enjoy a good song, a good laugh, and, of course, Lobster, corn, rice and salad in season.
At a Passim Open Mike (you now get to do two songs!) Steve Friedman caught this performance of one of my earliest songs, Wyethstown, written from the standpoint of a woman coming of age when they were building railroads along the ridges of rural Western New York in the middle of the 1800s, I imagined. A hundred years later, as kids, we ran along the old railroad right-of-way most weekends, looking down at the sun on the meadows, silos, and highways below; this song has been a fave in my family ever since I wrote it.
ItÕs dream number 1 on ÒTwelve Dared DreamsÓ, my album on cdbaby.
A valentine finished in January 2006 to our beloved swans in the Boston Public Garden, known as ÒRomeoÓ and Juliet. It also goes out to any bipeds, feathered or otherwise, who give and take in a permanent relationship; and to the designers of our magnificent green spaces around Boston, who had in mind, IÕm sure, the serenity that Juliet and Juliet inspire. My first song, I think, with some redeeming social value. Enjoy. IÕm told to say, however, Juli and Romy, All Rights Reserved, Boston Hills Music, 2006
HereÕs an old song from when I lived in Providence and was in my wordy perriod. I wrote it to amuse myself when I kept putting myself in the position of getting stood up
Some attitude is apparent.
This song came out of a Bob Franke songwriting workship a couple of years ago. It got me started writing again. ItÕs dream number 10 on ÒTwelve Dared DreamsÓ