In 2010, he recorded and toured as part of Robert Plant's "Band of Joy" project.
Scott has also collaborated with Steve Earle, Sam Bush, Emmylou Harris, John Cowan, Verlon Thompson, Guy Clark, Tim O'Brien, Kate Rusby, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, and many others. His unique music has attracted a growing fanbase, and he tours regularly with his own band.
Much of the commentary about Darrell Scott’s career has focused on the songs he’s written that have been recorded by famous names and voices – those known in music industry parlance as “artists.” But then there’s the actual word artist, whose definition has nothing to do with radio hits and red carpets. We refer of course to those who create artifacts of aesthetic and intellectual contemplation and wonder, built from experience, skill, reflection and emotional intent. That’s an artist. And that, at the end of the day, is Darrell Scott.
This is made abundantly clear on A Crooked Road, Scott’s sixth solo studio album. Recorded at home and entirely performed by Scott on a variety of instruments, A Crooked Road falls somewhere between a carefully crafted memoir and an arresting breach of privacy. From the deepest containers of memory, it recounts the bruises and blessings of 30 years of love relationships, stirring the heart with its intimacy and with the enthralling warmth and strength of Scott’s rare voice and musicianship. It is certainly the most introspective and intense project of Scott’s career, spilling over from one CD onto a second, and arranged as a journey with instrumental interludes and a sense of purpose that invites the listener to follow Scott along the crooked road of life, from romantic young man to drama king to lone poet.
Why this album, and why now? Scott says the proximate cause was the approach of his 50th birthday and a long process of adjusting to being single for the first time since first getting married at age 20. The songs were not written with the album in mind specifically, but upon looking at his output over a period of a few years, Scott saw a strong theme emerging. A sequence of songs presented themselves with the kind of clarity that rings an inner bell and signals ‘this is an album.’ Indeed, Scott shelved several other projects temporarily in order to focus on the recording of these 20 songs and pieces.
That recording took place in unusual isolation. Scott generally calls upon peers from the top ranks of roots and Americana music for his projects, but this seemed like the right time to realize a life-long aspiration of making an album by himself. When Darrell was 16, his father, a remarkable songwriter and singer in his own right, purchased a four-track, reel-to-reel recorder. Darrell virtually adopted it, spending many long nights in a shed, laying down parts and harmonizing with himself on a variety of instruments. It was a vital part of his musical schooling, as he figured out how instruments sound together and how to layer parts with grace and taste. While he did engage the help of his regular recording engineer Stephanie Hudacek at a console one floor below his living room “studio,” otherwise Scott worked alone. He would lay down a baseline performance of a song with the right backing instrument, whether guitar, piano or mandocello. Then he added parts, sometimes a single line and in some cases all the parts of a fleshed out band. It is perhaps no surprise that he dedicated the project to guitar pioneer Les Paul, the father of multi-track recording, who died while the album was being recorded at age 94.
As for the music itself, longtime fans of Scott will find a lot that is familiar here: that soul-saturated voice, somewhere between Lowell George and James Taylor, the dazzling instrumental chops and the unfailing judgment about what makes a song sturdy enough to stand up to the wind and weather of time. The album opens with the title track, a simple tune that throws back a bit to the folk-pop of the early 1970s. It lays out the geography of the album to come. “I will sing a lonesome song to anyone who’ll listen,” he says, invoking the muse and inviting the kind of active attention the album merits.
Highlight songs include “Long Wide Open Road,” wherein Darrell recounts his first love with wistful hindsight. “For Suzanne” burrows into the complex cocktail of guilt and anger that remain in the wake of a crashed relationship. “Colorado” finds Scott in lone contemplation on a spiritual road trip. And the passion and humor of a forest-fire romance are described in the rocking “Snow Queen and Drama Llama.” The last stage of the journey achieves new plateaus of insight and peace in songs like the lush and grand “This Time ‘Round” and the spare benediction of “This Beggar’s Heart.”
It’s a special album from a special time in the life of a special recording artist. Its hand-crafted feeling evokes the integrity and permanence of a well-made instrument or an expertly done painting. It may be more somber and vulnerable than Scott’s previous releases, but for that reason it has that much more emotional directness and power. It is truly a self-portrait of the artist as an older and wiser man.
Craig Havighurst
Nashville 2010
Career Highlights:
American Songwriter Top 25 Songs from the last 25 Years - #6: "It's A Great Day To Be Alive" - 2009
Americana Award for Song of the Year - "Hank William's Ghost" 2007
4th Annual Independent Music Award for Album of the Year - Theatre of the Unheard - Jan 2005
Indie Acoustic Best CD Lyrics - 2004
#3 2004 Country Music Songwriter of the Year - (ranked by over 100 music critics)
Grammy Nomination for Best Country Song – "Long Time Gone" Dixie Chicks 2003
Rolling Stone Magazine 2003 Critics Top Albums - Theatre of the Unheard
IBMA Song of the Year Nominee - 2002, 2003
Village Voice Pazz & Jopp Poll - 2000, 2003
Founded Full Light Records - Apr 2003
ASCAP Songwriter of the Year - 2002
Grammy Nomination for Best Country Instrumental Performance – “The Second Mouse” 2001
NSAI Songwriter of the Year - 2001
After All
Darrell Scott Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Made the coast by morning
Found an old abandoned carnival by the sea
There were no seats on the ferris wheel
And only one horse on the carousel
So I jumped on his back to get a ride for free
Free like the wind rising up the Eastern shore
Filling up my empty pockets
And a song was coming to me
But by night I couldn't hear it anymore
Anymore
I've stopped dreaming of love
Anymore
I can't believe the things I'm thinking of
Anymore, anymore
Mirrah, she's a friend of mine
She gives her love to artists
It's her way of brushing her humanity
She stays long enough to feel the pain
And to fill up on their vision
When she's drunk she says she's still in love with me
Me, I spend my days singing new songs on the subway
For the ones who stop to listen
Who will pay me mind or money
And I go right on singing as the train rolls in
To take them far away
Far away
They miss the best part of the show
Far away
For a place they don't really wanna go
Far away, far away
Well I went to see this friend of mine
He lives down in New York City
Says that's the only place a poet needs to be
Says there's life outside the window pane
And benches by the river
And a song in every stranger's eyes you see
See me on the street with my pocket pad of paper
Making sense of all the madness
With my crisp iambic meter
And nobody dares to tell me
New York City doesn't need me after all
After all
I am just a mortal man
After all
I'm just trying to do the very best I can
After all, after all, after all
In "After All," Darrell Scott reminisces on the past, describing a night he spent walking all night in the rain until he reached an empty carnival by the sea. Despite the lack of working rides, he rode a carousel horse for free before being swept up by the wind and losing the song that was coming to him. He laments his inability to dream of love anymore and the strange thoughts that have replaced them. He then describes his friend Mirrah, who gives her love to artists, and his own days spent singing new songs on the subway, where he fills up on the attention and payment he receives. Finally, he visits a friend in New York City who tells him that the city is the only place a poet needs to be and encourages him to find the song in every stranger's eyes.
Line by Line Meaning
We walked all night in the pouring rain
We spent the entire night walking in heavy rain
Made the coast by morning
We arrived at the coast in the morning
Found an old abandoned carnival by the sea
We discovered an deserted carnival near the ocean
There were no seats on the ferris wheel
The ferris wheel had no available seats
And only one horse on the carousel
The carousel had only one horse
So I jumped on his back to get a ride for free
To ride without paying, I mounted the horse on the carousel
Free like the wind rising up the Eastern shore
I felt liberated like the wind that blows along the East coast
Blowing back my un-tucked shirt tail
The wind blew my untucked shirt behind me
Filling up my empty pockets
As if to fill my empty pockets
And a song was coming to me
I was inspired to write a song
But by night I couldn't hear it anymore
However, I couldn't hear the song anymore at night
Anymore
Not anymore
I've stopped dreaming of love
I no longer dream about love
Anymore
Not anymore
I can't believe the things I'm thinking of
I can't believe the thoughts I have
Anymore, anymore
Not anymore, not anymore
Mirrah, she's a friend of mine
Mirrah is a friend of mine
She gives her love to artists
She supports artists with her love
It's her way of brushing her humanity
It's a way for her to connect with her humanity
She stays long enough to feel the pain
She stays around to experience their struggles
And to fill up on their vision
She gains inspiration from their creative vision
When she's drunk she says she's still in love with me
When she's intoxicated, she confesses her love for me
Me, I spend my days singing new songs on the subway
I pass my days composing new songs while singing in the subway
For the ones who stop to listen
For those who take the time to listen
Who will pay me mind or money
Those who give me attention or money
And I go right on singing as the train rolls in
I continue to perform my music as the train arrives
To take them far away
To take them to distant places
Far away
Distant places
They miss the best part of the show
They miss the most enjoyable part of the performance
Far away
Distant places
For a place they don't really wanna go
To a location they don't truly desire to visit
Far away, far away
Distant places, distant places
Well I went to see this friend of mine
I visited a friend of mine
He lives down in New York City
He resides in New York City
Says that's the only place a poet needs to be
He believes that New York City is the only place where a poet should live
Says there's life outside the window pane
He believes that there's excitement beyond the window sill
And benches by the river
He mentions benches located by the river
And a song in every stranger's eyes you see
He finds inspiration in the eyes of strangers, believing there's a song in each gaze
See me on the street with my pocket pad of paper
You can witness me on the street with my notepad
Making sense of all the madness
Trying to find meaning amid all the chaos
With my crisp iambic meter
I write poetry with crisp and precise meter
And nobody dares to tell me
No one dares to confront me
New York City doesn't need me after all
That New York City doesn't require my presence
After all
Nevertheless
I am just a mortal man
I am only a human being
After all
Even so
I'm just trying to do the very best I can
I'm simply attempting to do my best
After all, after all, after all
Nevertheless, nevertheless, nevertheless
Contributed by Arianna B. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
@moragmacgregor6792
There but for the grace of God.
I grew up in Saline County, Arkansas where the aluminum companies have been strip-mining ore (bauxite) for close to 100 years. The conditions in the early days weren't good but the workers had it pretty sweet compared to the coal miners.
I was living in oil-rich Northeast Louisiana as an adult when a geologist's son asked me about the mineral rights. "Who got the money? There must have been a lot of rich folks all of a sudden."
It had never even crossed my mind: how did all that bauxite come to be owned outright by Alcoa and Reynolds? Oh my God.
My parents didn't know. Everything happened before their first buggy-ride to the church house. Maybe the State sold the land for a few pennies and a kickback.
No one complained. Ever. Practically every daddy in town worked "at the plant." The two companies supported my home town.
@sirderam1
The Appalachian Mountains and the Caledonian Mountains here in Scotland were once one and the same mountain range - split apart when the Atlantic opened up. Not really surprising so many Scots felt at home and settled there. Perhaps the great collaberation in Transatlantic Sessions is bringing the mountains and their peoples together again - at least in spirit.
@Tryingtofindmyway
what a beautiful thing to remember, thank you for that.
@debraguerrero6182
As a proud Scots-Irish Kentuckian, thank you for mentioning this.
@dagreatrandini5702
Both brew hard working honest people 💪
@JENSATFAR
Well said, my friend ❤
@maryjohammons8905
Hello cousin! I love your sentiment ❤
@user-pq7ej9dw3l
Just heard this song for the first time. Where have I been. Obviously out of the loop. If country music sounded like this every time, they'd be nothing to compete with it. Just fantastic.
@wg4652
Listen to Patty Loveless and Chris Stapleton version, pretty good as well
@jwil9258
Check out Brad Paisley singing it.
@kimberlyphillipssmith7956
God bless this song. I grew up in the Muddy Holler of Ohio across the river from Wheeling WVa. I know every word of this song. It is in my soul. My family lived it in the 70's and still are.