From the recording Undersized T-Shirt
If the album has a “single”, this is probably it. I have previously discussed how one of the major themes of this record is finding your own identity. This sets up that search through clothing and personal style and makes a nice bookmark to the resolution of the title track - Cut From The Cloth.
Traditionally, the “single” should be the first song on the album. But I tried to arrange this album like old vinyl records that would build a musical arch and create an emotional journey from front to back. Hopefully, when these stories are done, and you have the entire album, a few of you will listen to it that way. I know this isn’t how most people consume music anymore, but I tried to make this album by putting art before the commerce.
Speaking of art, I’ve had a few friends offer their advice on where I should concentrate my musical energy. I won’t mention any names, like Jason Cardenas of Transfer, but I’ll say they are people that I love and respect, both personally and musically. But frankly, I think they sometimes miss the mark. One of these fellows that I refuse to mention said they wanted me to do less “jokey” songs and wanted to hear more darkness in my music. Others have told me that I am too depressing and ask why all my songs are so damn sad.
I think this song was specifically the “jokey” one my buddy (who on moral grounds, I refuse to mention) had in mind when offering his help. But if you listen, I think there is more going on in this song than just a novelty swipe at hipster elitism. It isn’t even that subtle, as I strip all the music down to just the cello to deliver a rather heavy handed “moral of the story”. Some of my favorite writers are satirists like master songsmith, John Prine and arguably America’s greatest writer, Mark Twain. These guys seamlessly travel between wit, tragedy and astute commentary.
All too often, we rail against problems only to fall victim to the same hypocrisy ourselves. And that is what this song is about. Finding the truth in yourself, without tearing others down to do it.
So fuck you, Jason Cardenas. You’ll never be as punk as me!! By the way, have you ever noticed how your son Felix kind of has my eyes?
Oh wait, did I do that wrong?