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Dana Robinson
Songwriter ~ Americana ~ Old-Time
To listen to tracks and purchase your copy (download or physical CD) of
The Town That Music Saved, click here to visit our Bandcamp Page
The idea for, The Town That Music Saved, was inspired by a book by Cabot author, Ben Hewitt who wrote a book entitled,
The Town That Food Saved, about how local farmers, restaurateurs, seed growers and other food-related businesses had transformed the economy of the neighboring town of Harwick, Vermont in the 2000's.
As a touring musician, I've always been impressed by how the very best concert series were run by people who understood how important music is to the well-being of their communities and were committed to a vision of creating wonderful musical experiences for their neighbors. Sue and I, having newly relocated to Vermont, wanted very much to create something like that here in our own town.
The lyric in the title song asks, "Could this be the town the music saved?" Meaning, in essence, that in order to help our communities thrive we all must show up and participate. With this album, I do my level best to celebrate our neighbors, community, the landscape we live in, and that this music can be a vehicle for us to celebrate and grow together.
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Thanks to the Vermont Arts Council for helping launch this project, and "supporting a creative state." Additional Thanks to each individual who supported our fundraising campaign to bring this project to its completion.
The Town That Music Saved is a snapshot of Vermont’s vibrant rural life, and is a testament to how much social activity continually occurs - music, art, theater, wellness, education, the list goes on. Just check out a billboard at your local village store.
The Flying Farmer is an homage to our neighbor farmer Will Ameden. It’s inconceivable to imagine being a farmer without having a multiplicity of skills and the capacity to conjure solutions for any problem that might arise on a daily basis on the average farm. This particular farmer was once a commercial pilot, and upon moving to Cabot built an airstrip and a hanger for his Cessna on the hill above his farm.
No Billboards draws attention to that special something one notices as soon as you cross over state lines. Among the many other ineffable things, it likely has to do with Vermont’s No Billboard law.
Shine - For 14 years (1776-1790) Vermont was an independent republic. During those formative years Vermonters developed an attitude of, “we can take care of ourselves” which continues to this day. This trait serves Vermonters well in times of crisis (both economic and existential) whereby people tend to come together, help each other out, and exhibit a deep community spirit.
Alibi Bag Rag - Harry’s Hardware in Cabot is home to The Den, our neighborhood pub, music venue and community meeting space. If one has, perhaps, lingered too long, there are small paper bags filled with nuts, bolts and screws that for a dollar you can take home to be your “alibi.”
Ripton Country Store Inspired by Bill McKibben’s March 30th 2018, Op-Ed in the New York Times. Bill’s lovely article illustrates how essential Vermont’s village stores are to the social fabric and economic well-being of our rural communities.
Mud Boot Road - With over 8,000 miles of dirt (“improved”) roads in Vermont, mud season is a force to be reckoned with. Mud season heralds the transition between the long and dark winter and the promise of spring.
Bayley Hazen Blues - Construction of the the Bayley Hazen military road was initiated in 1776 by General George Washington, to support the Continental Army's 1775 invasion of Quebec. Work was abandoned when British forces took advantage of the road to launch raids upon small communities along the route. To this day the road is part and parcel of the landscape in the north-east corner of Vermont.
Forest of My Heart - Our home is situated between a forested hill and the Winooski River. Wildlife abounds in this slim corridor. From ermine, fox, hare, coyote, bear, deer and moose, to all the indigenous and migratory birds - the flora and fauna are innumerable. Vermonters feel an innate connection to nature and take deep pride in being stewards of it. Amid these turbulent times especially, there is solace in this connection.
On November 30th 2018, nearly 3000 people came out to witness the newly-carved statue of Ceres, goddess of agriculture, being lifted and placed upon the Vermont Statehouse dome. They say, for the next 100 years, this Ceres will watch over Vermont, the city of Montpelier and the Winooski River as it flows by. The feeling I had coming away from that ceremony inspired this song. I can’t help but think that this new Ceres will, in a way, bear witness to our state as it transforms with the times - perennial and enduring.
The Town That Music Saved
I was coming into town on the Danville road
Saw a dozen little turkeys and a big old hen
Strutting neath Old Glory and taking their time
When you come into the village well you gotta slow down
Driving past the towers of the creamery
Gotta have respect for that hallowed ground
I work three jobs like most of you
Anything to pay the bills when they come due
More than anything I like to play some tunes
You can tell by the board at the village store
There’s more going on than any sane person could ever do
Everybody’s got a gig to go to
We’re going out to Harry’s it’s a Saturday night
The Limes are tuning up in the Willey Hall
Gonna raise some money for a trip this fall
There’s an old time session at The Den on Sundays
And Dunham’s Backline will be out on the Walden Road
We’re gonna get together and have a good time
Chorus
It’s just a little town that loves a song
Could it be the town that the music saved?
That blackbird yonder sings every day
Chorus
No Billboards
It was one day not so long ago
Traveling up from the flatlands low
Crossing over to Vernon town
Something shifted all around
Return I did and then again
For another hit of that mystery
And then one day it came to me
Behold my eyes could finally see
There are no billboards, no billboards,
No billboards on these roads
It could have been the balsam wood
It could have been the birch and maple tress
How the air picks up their scent
As it’s drifting through the leaves
Could be the way the light moves slow
Across the vast and verdant hills
And the endless waves of green
Oh my dear heart please be still
There are no billboards, no billboards,
No billboards on these roads
I heard tell of fairy dust
I've heard tell of lost and older ways
I guess things just change more slowly here
I just like watching the cows graze
From Equinox up to Jay Peak
Connecticut River across to Lake Champlain
There’s nothing to take my gaze away
From this brave little state
There are no billboards, no billboards,
No billboards on these roads
Ripton Country Store
There’s a place up a Green Mountain road
At its heart there’s an old potbellied stove
The story in the paper read, “town seeks heart and soul”
It’ll be your world - never more to roam
A weathered porch rises to my feet
Coffee beckons, now come and take a seat
Hear the music of the river and the jingle of the door
You can find most anything at the Ripton Country Store
Dick and Sue‘ve been here more than 40 years
7 to 7 every day with love and sweat and tears
They put it up for sale now ‘cause it’s time to move along
And I hear, you can have it for a song
Business is good, reliable and steady
The place is solid, if not exactly shiny
There’s a two-bedroom apartment upstairs and a barn out back / The town’s hard work but in the best kind of way.
You can get online but there’s no cell phone reception
They’re not quite up to the 21st century
But if you don’t care for big box stores, look no further
They got all that and everything else you been looking for
There’s penny candy and eggs from local hens
Pickled beets put up by neighbor friends
Rock salt and clothespins, starch and cupcake papers
Kitty litter, animal crackers
So if you’re ready to step out of the mainstream
I know they will be happy to oblige
Cause the place is up for sale now, it’s time to move along
And I hear, you can have it for a song
Without a store, you don’t have a town
Without a town, you ain’t gonna find a home
Hear the MIddlebury River and the jingle of the door
You can find most anything at the Ripton Country Store
Big Mystery
Who ever said, “You can’t get there from here”
Couldn’t have known the palm of their hand
Excepting the weather the pot holes and pitfalls
Springtime in the northland is with us again
Thoughts turn to love ‘cause we’re warm enough now
And all of the animals are showing us how
It’s under our noses all eyes to see
The fuse of creation the big mystery
Debris of the winter lay still on the ground
And a neighbor’s old hound is asleep in the sun
Down from the hill towns come boys on their Harleys
They’re grizzled and knarly but they’re just looking for fun
It’s an elaborate ritual of folks in their spring wear
Tie dye and green hair make good company
It’s under our noses all eyes to see
The fuse of creation the big mystery
It’s a massive migration of warm blooded mammals
You’ve got hippies with sandals driving their bugs
Winnebagos and U-hauls head north on the interstate
Conquering real estate that’s been vacant since fall
And down on the floodplain ferns are unfurling
Tulips are twirling their petals toward sky
It’s under our noses all eyes to see
The fuse of creation the big mystery
Before the corn ripens before the beans burst
Before the meadow wants rain for its thirst
It’s under our noses all eyes to see
The fuse of creation the big mystery
The Flying Farmer
Up on top of Ducharme Hill, there’s a farmer that I know
With big grin at the ready, he’s always on the go
Underneath Orion, beneath a coat of stars
There's a pilot on his ATV, flying cross the farm
High upon a hayfield, there’s a grassy airstrip where
A Cessna’s in the hanger, waiting to take the air
My feet are planted on the ground
But my heart is high above the clouds
Roots so deep you couldn’t pull me out
The endless blue is all around
He says, I sugar in the springtime, press cider in the Fall
Summers I'm on the hillside with the brush hog
Wintertime’s for shop work / hitch up the snow plow
Spend time with friends and family
We make it happen somehow
He says, all I really want to do is get up in the sky
Set my bearings by the Camels Hump
That’s where I’m gonna fly
Shine
I say Hey Now what’s going on
Listen up to this here song
I’ll tell you 'bout people in this old town
Trying to find a way to turn things around
And make it shine, shine, shine, shine
Make it shine, shine, shine, shine
Won’t you tell me all about that promised land
That we can taste and touch and understand
Tell me 'bout a country that don’t tear us apart
Some place near and close to our hearts
Where we can shine, shine, shine, shine
We can shine, shine, shine, shine
I’ve had enough of the likes of you
With your golden crown and your emperor's shoes
They say the harder they come the harder they fall
We won’t build your border wall
We’re gonna shine, shine, shine, shine
We’re gonna shine, shine, shine, shine
So listen up people and hear my song
We’re gonna find a way to carry on
It’s not about me and it’s not about you
It’s about all of us getting the message through
About how to shine, shine, shine, shine
Yea we got to shine, shine, shine, shine
When I finally leave this world
I’ll come back as something beautiful
Song of a bird or strong like a stone
Or something never ever shown
I’m gonna shine, shine, shine, shine
We’re gonna shine, shine, shine, shine
Mud Boot Road
I live up an old logging road
It used to be a milk wagon road
But now it is just a mud boot road
Season come and seasons go
All I know is mud and snow
On that mud boot road
If you got holes in your shoes
You can go and sing the blues
Bout that mud boot road
I know when I got friends
They’ll come and see me end
Of that mud boot road
Go on down to your general store
They’ll know what you’re looking for
For that mud boot road
Close the schools close the town
Everybody’s slipping around
On that mud boot road
When the summer’s warm and dry
Squish your toes in a fresh cow pie
On that mud boot road
I know when I’ve found my honey
She’ll walk up that road that’s muddy
On that mud boot road
I get lost upon the trail
Just by telling you this tale
About that mud boot road
With a big crow bar and a comealong
You can help me sing this song
About that mud boot road
Forest of my Heart
Thanksgiving day we went tromping through woods
The green man had just shed his clothes
A bounty of leaves made a blanket of gold
O’er a footing of ancient grey stones
This is the land where storms come to die
Here’s where they run out of steam
There’s nothing round here for to brighten their eye
Nothing to sustain their greed
It was here where our forebears said the land was good
Here we can build a new life
We’ll harness the waters to mill our own wood
We’ll sew then we’ll reap with a scythe
Though the winters are dark and winters are long
This place we’ll make all our own
And just like a lover who knows all your songs
For this place we gladly atone
Come bring your ponies on down from the hill
Bring them up from the floodplain
Forest of my heart and soil of my soul
Hold fast to your true secret name
Ceres come stand for a hundred years more
Ceres come watch us transform
We’re frightened and anxious like wee little babies
We’ll sleep and we’ll wait in your corm
The wild green onions will sprout in the Spring
And rise from the banks of the river
Let’s do something now, our children be proud
It’s time for us now to deliver
It was Thanksgiving day we went tromping through woods
Where the tamaracks beamed in their glory
If we count ourselves lucky to live in this place
Come let us continue the story