Under the Wooden Beams of Saloon #10
Strings, Songs, and Stories in Deadwood
Sometimes, in the quiet spaces between strumming chords and penning lyrics, I find myself lingering over the thought that music has this unspoken way of understanding us. This coming Saturday, from 2pm to 5pm, I'll be sharing a part of that understanding at Saloon #10 in Deadwood, South Dakota, a rustic backdrop steeped in history, where every creak of the wooden floor seems to whisper tales from the past.
Preparing for this gig has been a journey through the landscapes of my mind, desires, and failures. In these past weeks, I've been weaving new threads into the songs I perform, each thread a story, a feeling, a moment in time. Writing new music feels a bit like capturing lightning in a bottle – elusive, electric, and exhilarating. My workspace, with its scattered lyrics and chords, has become a mix of sanctuary and cemetery with streams of though coming to life and others crashing down in an artistic death roll.
Americana covers have always been close to my heart. John Prine, Jason Isbell, Ryan Bingham, Blaze Foley, Townes, there's something about their earthy tones and heartfelt stories that resonate with the soul. Learning these covers, I've been trying to infuse them with my own style – a pinch of personal flair in the familiar. It's like having a conversation with the greats, echoing their words but adding my own inflections, my own experiences.
Playing at the Saloon #10 feels like being a part of something greater than oneself. It’s a place where the walls are steeped in history, where the air is thick with stories of the Wild West. It's not just about playing music; it's about being part of a continuing story, adding my own verse to the song that Saloon #10 has been singing for years.
I've been thinking about the people who will walk through those saloon doors. Some might be locals, familiar with the echoes of Deadwood, while others might be travelers, seeking stories and songs to carry with them. For a few hours, our paths will converge under the warm glow of Saloon #10's lights, our spirits lifted by the offered libations, our lives intertwining with the melodies.
In these moments of reflection, I realize that music isn't just a series of notes and lyrics. It's a living, breathing entity that captures the essence of our experiences, our dreams, our sorrows, and our joys. It's a vessel for stories, a bridge between hearts.
So, as Saturday approaches, I invite you to join me in this celebration of music and stories. Let's fill the air of Saloon #10 with the strumming of my guitar, the hum of voices, and the clinking of glasses. Let's create a memory together, a melody that will linger long after the last note has faded.
In Deadwood, under the wooden beams of Saloon #10, let's write a new chapter in our collective story, one song at a time.