See My Freedom Come
By 2001 we had people we loved, people who loved us who were asking for more, more, more; and then we had people who were offering to pay the freight, if we just go RECORD. We found a good inexpensive basement studio and plunged in. Two years later of Monday nights and Sunday afternoons and we were done. In December of '02 I was listening to some drafts and I said, 'Then we're done, right?' and Rich said, 'No no no no no... I haven't even started scrubbing the vocals yet.' But in March he was done. Everybody used their ears and their brains and their hearts (duh) and talent, and we only fought about the important stuff like whether we'd have Chinese or hotcakes after the sessions. We were pared down to four, and now there were less places to hide, and we could hear everybody, nice and clear. For me, this process is all about God growing me; just exactly as if He were growing turnips. So He says, 'C'mon Derek, try this, try this...' and I whine and complain and eventually try it. For me this collection is all about the ensemble taking my songs, and friends they're nice songs, but they are simple, and they take those songs and they just get their little white teeth into them, and bite and shake, and chew. We finally got 'Son Of Man' right, and I don't know how long I've been trying to hit that guitar break. We might have overproduced 'Many Thousand Gone', but I just go there, in that piece, and I see the jerky old black and white movies, from the war that never ends. Then when we get to 'Jesus And The Boys' and we see their '...faces in the firelights glow...' I know this is my team and my people and I never want to leave that fire. Except for that last song; the title song that came as a free gift out of the blue we none of us expected. A mysterious invitation. A ticket home. A taste of things to come.