Driving north at dusk on IA-1 in a rented car with the rough mixes of Ghost Repeater on a burned disc, a hamburger, and a new pack of smokes, was about as good as life gets. I was 29, and felt like McCarthy's young thief in a glowing orchard, loosely jacketed against the cold, and ten thousand worlds for the choosing. When you make a record, it isn't real beforehand, and when the paint is dry it no longer breathes. You can only hear it accurately between the making and the release, and then it's a machine built of wonder and possibilty. The whole band had listened back, sequencing it together on the fly as we bounced down the roughs, and now I listened to the whole thing a few times on the way up to Wisconsin in the winter dark, headed for a Saturday night party with old friends, and I believed it was good. It may be hard to understand, but that belief is generally hard come by, fleeting, and precious.

GHOST REPEATER - Tomorrow night (Tuesday 9/29 - 7:30PM EDT/USA) I’ll play through all the songs on my third album, which fifteen years later turns out to be a surprisingly timely collection of songs about new love in a country unraveling under the weight of fear, nostalgia, and empire. It should make a nice pre-game show for anyone planning to watch what we wistfully term a "debate" (take a spin through the Lincoln-Douglas debates, or even Kennedy-Nixon for an instructive comparison).

Recorded over four days in Iowa City in December of 2005, with Bo Ramsey at the helm and handling the electric guitars, his longtime rhythm section of Rico Cicalo and Chief Hayes on bass and drums, and the great Dave Moore rounding out the band on harp and squeezebox, Ghost Repeater was my first experience tracking live with a band. I was scared shitless, but then they were so kind. Rico could see I didn't understand how to count measures, was just barely staying in the saddle, and he took me aside and said he'd move his upright so I could see him through the window of my little iso-booth, and signal me when it was time to go to the bridge. I got up early every morning and bought them all coffees and sandwiches and cigarettes, trying to remember who took cream and who smoked Camels.

You can watch via the link below, on the TOUR page, or on Facebook. If you're able, and these songs have meant something in your life, you can square up for the show electronically via Paypal or Venmo, or through the U.S. Mail, as you see fit. I've been pleasantly surprised that anyone wants to hear me sit in my office and yap my way through an hour and a half of memories, but beyond that, really moved by the kind support. It's made all the difference in our ability to get by while off the road. Thanks folks.

#iVoted - On November 3rd – a night that will signal either the dismissal of our tin pot Mussolini, or the last election in American history – I’ll play a thirty minute set of my own songs and a couple relevant covers, as part of a national program of webcast concerts coordinated by #iVoted. To watch, just visit https://www.ivotedconcerts.com and submit a picture of yourself at home with your blank/unmarked mail-in ballot, or else a photo from outside your polling place (following the local regulations, naturally). I imagine they won’t be too strict about what qualifies. The main thing is to get your plan together now – whether that means requesting your absentee ballot, voting early in person, or voting on the day – and then VOTE, preferably for someone with the power of consecutive thought, and a demonstrable preference for honesty, decency, knowledge, and democracy.

That's it from here. We'll see you tomorrow night.