Showing posts with label michelle anderson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label michelle anderson. Show all posts

Friday, April 18, 2008

Baby Steps

There hasn't been much to write home about lately regarding Red River and our "success stories" - ha ha! (What success stories?) But, to be fair, we haven't been very productive for awhile, either.

There have been a couple of things worth mentioning, though, I guess.

I received an email from Audiosparx this week, letting me know that one of our songs, "Ghost Town", is being used in a short film that will be shown at a student film festival. So, that's kinda nice. The filmmaker will be using the entire song for the end title. It would be nice to know more about the project, but I'm not going to badger the person, to try to find out more. All I know is, it's a short western film.

Then, today, I got an email, telling me that a song I'd entered (and forgotten about!) won an honorable mention in the Song Of The Year contest back in December. I truly forgot that I had even entered anything. It must have been one of my weaker (drunk) moments - no, I'm just kidding about the drunkenness. But I really don't, as a rule, enter anything that I have to pay to enter.

I also forgot which song I'd entered. I'm thinking it was probably, "Prayed For It To Rain". At one time, I was pretty enthusiastic about that song. Also, now thinking back, I believe there were some decent judges in that contest, a fact which most likely convinced me to part with my money.

Of course, this "award" won't do anything for us (it won't even give me a return on my investment), but still, it's a nice pat on the back.

Oh, my name is here: Songwriter Of The Year Honorable Mention List

(Click quick, before it's gone!)

So, there you have it........little teeny baby steps.

If you want to listen to "Ghost Town" or "Prayed For It To Rain", you'll find them here:

Red River's Website (Music Page)

Thus ends today's infomercial.

Friday, March 28, 2008

I Do Write Music Sometimes

Yea, I like to write about music and make fun of stuff. Cuz that's just what I do. That's how I roll. (Ooh, there are no smiley faces to insert here!)

I don't claim to be a Don Henley or a Rodney Crowell. You see, what they've got that I don't have is a good grasp of melody writing.

And I'll let you in on a little secret about my writing:

I'm extremely limited, in that I am a terrible guitar "strummer", and I don't know very many chords. What this means is, I tend to write melodies around the few chords that I do know. This tends to make my songs boring and unimaginative.
I'm just not of a mind to start suddenly taking guitar lessons, at this point in my life. So, I work with what I have.

But, on the plus side, I can write those Americana songs! Because they basically only use three chords, so I've got that mastered!

So, I'm debuting a new song here, and I welcome your feedback (as if anyone is even reading this, which, of course, I know that no one is. So I guess I'll just give feedback to myself.)

I posted an earlier version of this song on And I got some amazing responses. I was a bit taken aback, frankly, by the words of praise I received. So, I thought, well, hey! Maybe I'd better actually work on this one a bit.

And, by the by, I have a LOT of unfinished lyrics, so if anyone out there (as if anyone is out there) wants to collab and write a melody to my lyrics, give me a holler.

This song was inspired by an article that was written in National Geographic Magazine, about my home state of North Dakota, and how the towns are turning into, basically, ghost towns. (Oh, "Ghost Town"! That's another song I wrote!)

It's all malarkey, really. I guess no one knows North Dakota except the people who actually live there. But let me tell you, it's a great place to live, and I would move back there in a heartbeat, given the opportunity.

But, again, I have wandered off, far away from the topic at hand.

Anyway, here are the words I wrote, and an admittedly bad rendition of "The Wind Wasted Plain":

She clutched her mama’s old suitcase
As she stepped from the train
Into the ramshackle sunlight
Of the wind wasted plain

For three sleepless days and nights
Her world slipped away
And she closed her eyes to it
The wind wasted plain

With strong lines on paper
He’d asked for her hand
He was a hard worker
And a clean, honest man

Now she looked like a stranger
In the cold window pane
No roses were blooming
On the wind wasted plain

The storm took the barn
Didn’t even leave rain
The hail took the barley
The bank took his name

The time came to pack up
What little remained
And start life away from
The wind wasted plain

On this warm July Sunday
The kids loaded up
Her chair in the back of
Her grandson’s new truck

And they drove down that
Old road where dreams had been lain
To the dusty reminders
On the wind wasted plain

In the sun-casted shadow
Of the goldenrod stain
The years fell as tears on
The wind wasted plain