Casey Abrams One-sheet

Like a Mirror: Casey Abrams Reflects Folk, Jazz, and the American Songbook Cambridge, Massachusetts-based songwriter Casey Abrams is a well-heeled traditionalist with an ear for reinvention. Raised on a diet of Leo Kottke, Hoagy Carmichael, and Ry Cooder, he has developed a style reminiscent of the finest traditional music, yet distinctive in its own right. His fresh take on American forms will leave you wondering why singer-songwriters toil over anything else. Abrams’ new Like a Mirror, released by U.S. indie label Wampus Multimedia, is reverent and contemporary, at once in touch with tradition and aware of its surroundings. Influenced by the likes of Don McLean, Spider John Koerner, and Leon Redbone, Abrams thinks for himself while he genuflects, crafting original songs on traditional themes. Like Beck and Iron & Wine, he has plenty of pulp for the presses, and translates old parchments into today's breaking news. Abrams plays what he calls “tramp art music,” melding the folkier leanings of Paul Simon, Warren Zevon, and Randy Newman with hints of jazz and progressive rock. This synthesis evokes southern-gothic Americana while liberally quoting the best of Tin Pan Alley, and is sweetened by Abrams’ delicately cynical vocals and a unique, finger-picked guitar style that recalls folk, ragtime, and country blues. Despite his old-style musical background, Abrams creates a sound that is thoroughly modern, a treat for fans of trad iconoclasts like Jeff Buckley and M. Ward. Bookended by Abrams’ haunting “Twelve-Bar Blues,” Like a Mirror maps the mind of a protagonist who has made more than his share of wrong turns in life. Ruminating in moody vignettes, he comes to a crossroads where he must decide whether or not to atone for his mistakes.

release date: January 31, 2005

www.wampus.com www.caseyabrams.com

From the chilling “Ghost Story” to the pivotal “My Doppelganger” to the playfully Dylanesque “The Times They Have a-Changed,” Abrams builds tension with just his voice and an acoustic guitar. Virtuosity meets spontaneity in a record that is at once refined and natural. Produced by Mark Doyon at Wampus Sound Studio, Like a Mirror is part of the Wampus Multimedia Sessions series, featuring literate singer-songwriters captured in the studio over the course of a single day. The focus falls on the intimacy of performance, evoking the mood of a live show in the context of the studio. Like a Mirror is available at Amazon, CD Baby, Tower Records, and other fine stores.

download publicity photos: www.wampus.com/artists/caseyabrams

Twelve-Bar Blues (open) turn down the white lights tonight to hide the patches and the seams tonight the beer will flow like wine and the wine will flow like a glorious dream turn up the record machine tonight whatever will be will be tonight the song will flow like wine and we’ll sing like we sang at seventeen lock the guns up tight tonight tell the sheriff to wait by the phone tonight the blood will flow like wine if I find her on the streets alone The View from Here well, I don’t know how this must look to all the people going by in the rain and oh, what they must be thinking if they should happen to look in through the shade what I thought was on the agenda isn’t on the agenda at all I guess I can’t see the hand in front of my face let alone the fine print on the wall and oh, the view from here is all of a sudden all too clear well, I been over this time and again and tried out all the endings before but try as I might, I couldn’t make it work out like it did when you walked throught that door who would have thought it would happen? that you’d be the one to fall and find out that someone was right here waiting on your side of town after all

roll on by white lines and road signs try and keep up if you can

see them pace the floor in fits and starts and drag the chains that once wound ‘round their hearts

all you captains of industry will have to keep on with no more assistance from me you had your chance, now it’s time I was gone ‘cause I’ve been away far too long from my home

have you seen the ghost of tom? long years dead but won’t lie down he wrings his hands of lifeless clay and cowers from the light of day

pick up the pace, lazy river put on some steam, you southbound train so long, you neon signs and bread lines remember me if you can

are we compelled despite our fear to hold such restless spirits dear? is this the ghost of our last chance? or the shade of some long-dead romance?

My Doppelganger

The Times They Have a-Changed

it was on this road at the close of day when the dim, red glow gives over to night I was standing in the shadow of the hanging tree when I saw with a fright it looked just like me

looking back now that the race has been run well I know I went wrong, but lord knows what I done seems everyone you meet is looking out for number one and number one ain’t me anymore number one ain’t me, that’s for sure

my blood runs cold at the thought of it my doppelganger under the hanging tree in the dim, red light at the close of day on this lonesome road from the hills to the sea but it just doesn’t get any darker than this though the sun and the moon may ride high in the sky it just doesn’t get any darker than this for I know now that I’m bound to die I once took the life of a blameless man in a lonesome place so far from the town not even the moon was awake to see when I shot him down and went on free for years I waited for a knock on my door but time marched on and no one came about a blameless man and a robbery so I kept my name and my liberty

if it’d been a snake it’d’ve bit you a freight train, it might have hit you an earthquake, it might have just shook you well, but oh, look how long it took you

the moon shines down on this lonely road pitchforks and torches are now at my back the leaves look silver, the limbs now black as I stand at the foot of the hanging tree

Nobody’s Song

We Don’t Care How You Do It Up North

chords ring out in empty rooms with no soft eyes these words to see no voice to raise in melody but mine and sometimes words come hard but I’d have sung these just for you and not a one but would have sounded fine

we don’t care how you do it up north you’re forever running up and down and back and forth no time for sitting in the shade when there’s money to be made we don’t care how you do it up north we don’t care how you do it back east your winter weather weren’t cut out for man nor beast and you’ll wither on the vine waiting for the sun to shine we don’t care how you do it back east

this is the song I would have written for you but it’s written for nobody now the autumn leaves are falling now on the places where we used to walk the plans we made have all been lost in time and from time to time it’s hard but I believe I’ll make it through and I’ve only got this one last thing in mind

we don’t care how you do it out west I find that way of life a little hard to digest you can keep your protein shakes your tofu and your earthquakes we don’t care how you do it out west

you say there’s nothing left to say and for you that might be true it may mean nothing to you now but I mean it when I say that this song is not for you

don’t tell me how you do it back home if I cared how romans do it, don’t you think I’d live in rome? just give me the old-fashioned ways and I’ll while away my days don’t tell me how you do it ‘cause I won’t listen to it don’t tell me how you do it back home

So Long Away I been so long away from the places I know so long away from my home and I've seen all the things that I came here to see ‘cause I’ve been away far too long from my home will the gray spanish moss still hang low from the boughs in the light of a sky filled with stars? there will be no more bus stops and subways for me ‘cause I've been away far too long from my home pick up the pace, lazy river put on some steam, you southbound train

Ghost Story have you seen the ghost of john? long white bones with no skin on more frightful still than any haunt is a man who can’t have what he wants have you seen the ghost of kate? looking out the graveyard gate from this day on she makes her home with rattling bones and marble stones

well you hide in the shed when the rent comes due and your nights are as blue as a homemade tattoo every day’s just another turn of the screw somewhere things got strange ‘cause the times they have a-changed stand in the doorways and block up the halls ‘cause the times they have a-changed don’t even try to make sense of it all for the times they have a-changed well I think of all the things that I know I could do if I could just find someone to do them to if the phone doesn’t ring I’ll just figure it’s you and the phone doesn’t ring an awful lot these days the phone doesn’t ring in so many ways well you take your sophisticate he’s got noboby twisting his arm and your boulevardier with his hair down to here well he’s sailing through life on his looks and his charm stand in the doorways and block up the halls ‘cause the times they have a-changed he who gets hurt will be he who won't crawl for the times they have a-changed OIOU got a visit just this morning from the savings and the loan they pretend to regret to inform me they’re foreclosing on my home “that ain’t to say you ain’t well-dressed and good-enough-looking, too but we can’t charge no interest on a ten-year i.o.u.” O-I-O-I, O-U-I-O, O-U-O-U, I-I-I-O O-O-O-I, O-O-O-O, O-O-O-U, O-I-O-U I been out of work for months now I been out of sorts, as well I wondered where my gal was at so I asked my ex-friend Dell well, I guess I got my answer and it made me want to cry he said “if there’s one thing I don’t owe you it’s ‘who’ and ‘where’ and ‘why’” I never cared much for fighting I guess it just ain’t in my line but the next one says those words to me is gonna have one hell of a time and I never been much of a gambler but you can bet these words are true if you’re looking for trouble this morning you won’t get no i.o.u. Twelve-Bar Blues (closed) lock the doors up tight instead put out the sign and pull the shade tonight the tears will flow like wine for me and all the mistakes I’'ve made

Words and music ©2005 by Casey Abrams. All rights reserved. Lyrics reprinted by permission.