Everything is minimal, and if it’s over, it’s over. We’re abrupt with things: in and out. Especially if it’s an overdub – it’s gone. It does something that’s not real.
It was then I knew I’d had enough, Burned my credit card for fuel Headed out to where the pavement turns to sand With a one-way ticket to the land of truth And my suitcase in my hand
My songs speak for themselves. The musicians who play on them and the way they sound and where they were recorded and the way they were recorded is the old Nashville way … they sound as country or more country than a lot of things that are on country radio.
Most people think it’s the other way around: that time is going faster and we’re doing less. But really time seems to be going faster because we’re cramming so much into it.
