Okeefenokee

This song is about dog days in the deep South. When I was a kid we'd go barefoot from the time the whip'o'will first sang till the first frost. One exception: dog days. There was a belief that snakes shed their skins during dog days and went temporarily blind, which made them especially dangerous. Moreover, cuts and scrapes supposedly wouldn't heal very quickly in dog days. I don't know the truth of the matter. I suppose a wildlife biologist could tell you one way or another. One thing I do know about dog days: they were (and probably still are) the hottest, muggiest days of summer. The best thing a person can do is imitate the dogs. Find a cool, shady place and try to sleep through the August days (I grew up in the pre-air-conditioned South). In this song, a fellow tries to do just that, but his aunt, driven slightly wacky by the heat, imagines herself as Dale Evans and commences to yodeling, killing any chance of sleep. Finally, he gives up, remakes himself in Roy Rogers, and together they dance off into the sunset.

Though the bass, guitar, and vocal track went down all at once, this was one of the hardest recordings we did because we ended up putting so many other instrumental parts down. In addition to Sean, Julia Hays and Scott Bigelow add violin and cello tracks. Julia's sort of "Old Black Water" violin line that goes through the whole piece adds so much to the song! Roy Laird, a fine clawhammer player who teaches at Swallow Hill, employs a very old-style three-finger technique. Additionally, Ernie Martinez adds a steel track, John Magnie plays his wistful accordion, and Steve Amadee adds brushes. I throw in a few percussive sound effect, such as blowing on a plastic bottle, jaw harp, etc. You may hear something like deep water drops. I got that effect by hitting a wood drum and adding a ton of reverb. The theme from this song is picked up at the end of "Cajun Flood".