I’m drinking and the bartender goes: “Once you let New Orleans into your soul it’s hard to let go (of)”. This bartender is from where I’m from (almost) so the words go down easily like the blonde beer he’s pouring. I’m starting to understand the breast-centered art in New Orleans; this town is a bosom. It’s not a hit of speedy ambition like New York, or a steady stoic paycheck like DC. It’s a comforting place, at once stimulating and relaxing. It’s Yin and Yang, wholesome and sinful.
These are my last songs from DC and who knows what my first New Orleans effort will sound like. My hope is that whatever I make it is natural, beautiful and comforting. I have no rib to give, but I will create nonetheless.