Junior Barnard was a guitar player Bob Wills nicknamed “Fat Boy.” What does this have to do with me? Nothing, but he inspired me to name this very limited release, mid-nineties, record after him.|
I’m putting this up here because my pal Rick Foster will not stop pestering me until I do.
I kept a traveling bag packed and in use from about 1984 until 1996. I was traveling when I wrote these songs and a lot of them have that high, hard and lonesome feel I think reflects that sort of life. I finished my M.A. in 1995 and immediately suffered that big “what now” feeling lots of people have upon reaching a difficult milestone. This record was what came out of that crisis but I didn’t really get the chance to promote it much. Too much stuff got in the way I neither want to revisit nor bore others with the details.
I sent it around to the record labels where I knew people who would play it and didn’t do much else. I got a few calls back including a delightful surprise from my friend Hanna Bolte who I didn’t know was working for a major label and somehow noticed my tape in somebody else’s inbox. Life is strange.
Since I first started soliciting interest in my music back in the stone age where guitars were powered by small dinosaurs on treadmills inside the amp cabs and music was distributed by mail and sold in places like TG&Y, I noticed how music projects took on a life of their own once released into the wild. Even though I never got anybody to drop a container ship full of advance money on me to record for them–at best all I got was a very small dingy partially filled with pocket change–my tapes and cds ended up in places I never could have expected.
I’ve kept all the rejection letters I’ve ever gotten because they represent and acknowledgement that somebody listened and said no which is better than nobody listening at all. If the choice is being ignored or being rejected, I’ll take rejection. I suppose I’m a bit odd that way.