On his second album, Build Me This, the follow-up to his critically acclaimed The Sun is Always Brighter, produced by industry veteran Shannon Edgar, James expands his musical palette to foreboding doom-laden hard rock. Progressing from folkish harmonies, to country twang, world beats and southern home rock while further exploring themes of spiritual searching and heartbreaking loss. Possessing a whispery and intimate vocal style that works its way into the ear peacefully and directly, Joshua James is pitched midway between seminal influences like Bob Dylan and Neil Young.
“I find solace and beauty in darkness and depression,” admits James, who grew up in his native Lincoln, Nebraska, skateboarding and sneaking listens to music his parents banned, like classic rockers Jim Morrison and The Doors, Led Zeppelin, and Pink Floyd, “But there are contrasts to everything. You have to combine the sweet and salty, the ugly and beautiful. Music is very therapeutic for me. It’s all about making a connection with humanity, with the audience, in ways that I normally wouldn’t be able to.”
Over the past three years, James has been doing just that. His debut was the #1 Folk Album on iTunes, and “FM Radio,” a song about a childhood friend coping with the death of his father, amassed more than 150,000 downloads as part of an iTunes promotion. In addition to performances at Sundance, SXSW and CMJ, James has toured with John Mayer, David Gray and Ani DiFranco, winning legions of fans along the way. His new album, Build Me This, has already attracted major–label interest. “I feel strongly about the things I sing about,” nods Joshua. “I want people to know how I feel, which sounds kind of dumb, because who cares how I feel? If someone feels similarly, though, that’s what I’m looking for. That’s the most important thing. If
you can relate to what I’m going through, then I’ve achieved my goal.”
The album title, Build Me This, refers to his dream of salvation. “It’s my way of asking God to show himself,” declares James. “To prove he exists. Do something. Give me a sign. It’s a call to whatever or whoever is out there. I don’t want him to strike me down or paralyze me, just give me something to believe.”
Aside from the spiritual, Build Me This is also about the difficulties of everyday relationships, the inadvertent hurt we cause to those we love. “Magazine” deals with the pain of separation (“Go take your bags to New York City, call me when your plane arrives/I’ll feed the children, wash the dishes, I’ll keep the house lookin’ nice/Well don’t you worry, everything’s gonna be all right.”), while “In the Middle” laments a shattered romance (“You’ve tried so hard to forget me/You burnt the letters I’d made/Though my memory has been dyin’/I hope the feeling still remains”).
On the stage, though, is where Joshua James’ music comes alive and reveals its true intent, which is about drawing people into his insular universe, a sense of mystic that only the truly great ones can communicate.
“Perhaps the darkness comes out a little more often that I’d like,” he offers “but that’s just where I gravitate to when I’m writing. I don’t usually try to tackle specific subjects; it’s usually about what I’m feeling at the time. Things start to come out, then they form a story and a reason, and that’s how things evolve. I’m influenced by everything… by life, by love, by hate, by music.”
The Garden
Joshua James Lyrics
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Your garden is grown.
Blackbird is seen, from the highest tree,
of the stone-bridge leads to the road.
Your daddy is cryin', 'cause mother, she's dyin',
Ain't no cancer, that eats at your soul,
And I'm off to the war, to make d___ sure
they don't come 'round here, no more.
Daddy, all right, tells our mother tonight,
"I'm just a garden that grows on the lawn."
The sweet breeze don't blow, like it does back home.
'Cause we're ain't nothin' but b______s and boys.
Son now, all right, your mother died here tonight,
in the garden, the blackbird does fly.
Spoke of Ohio, a cold, breezy dawn,
and a son that's fightin' in the war.
Ain't no exit I see, from this black where I breathe
and the garden, is a thousand miles gone.
Mother just died, with a heart dark as mine,
of the stone-bridge, leads to the road.
Daddy's done cryin', 'cause mother's done dyin'.
oh, the cancer, has eaten her whole.
But I'm stuck in this war, to make d___ sure
they don't come, they don't come...
Where the blackbird sang and now lives at her grave.
And the garden has grown itself dry.
If I ever get home, from this terror I've known,
go to the garden, go to the garden,
and I'll wait there to die.
The song "The Garden" by Joshua James depicts a scene of loss and despair in the context of war. The opening verse describes the scene of a town in late July, buzzing with crowds. In this setting, the singer describes a garden that has been grown, Blackbird sitting atop a high tree overlooking the stone-bridge, and the father grieving over the death of the mother, who did not succumb to cancer but had her soul eroded by unseen forces. The singer then admits that he is off to war, to make sure that what has happened in this town never happens again.
The second verse finds the father talking to his mother's corpse, claiming that he is just a garden on his lawn while the sweet breeze doesn't blow as it has done in the past. The father says that he is nothing but "boys and b______s," and the son returns to the town to find that his mother has died in the garden, where the Blackbird still flies. She is said to have spoken of Ohio and the son who is fighting in the ongoing war. There is no way out of this darkness except for the bridge, which leads to the road - perhaps symbolic of the road ahead for the son after the war.
Line by Line Meaning
It's late July, crowds roll by your town.
The summer is almost over, people are moving around town and there is a sense of transition in the air.
Your garden is grown.
The fruits of hard labor have yielded a bountiful crop in the garden.
Blackbird is seen, from the highest tree, of the stone-bridge leads to the road.
The blackbird, who represents the fleeting nature of life, is spotted from the highest point of the tree, which overlooks the path that leads to new journeys.
Your daddy is cryin', 'cause mother, she's dyin', Ain't no cancer, that eats at your soul, And I'm off to the war, to make d___ sure they don't come 'round here, no more.
The artist's father is weeping because of the passing of his wife, but not because of cancer. The artist is departing to fight in the war to defend his family and ensure that the enemy does not harm them.
Daddy, all right, tells our mother tonight, "I'm just a garden that grows on the lawn."
The artist's father comforts his dying wife by saying that he is a garden growing on the lawn; a beautiful and natural part of nature, but one that will ultimately perish.
The sweet breeze don't blow, like it does back home. 'Cause we're ain't nothin' but b______s and boys.
The familiar breeze is absent and the world is harsh, with only the young and inexperienced (boys) trying to make their way in a new land.
Son now, all right, your mother died here tonight, in the garden, the blackbird does fly. Spoke of Ohio, a cold, breezy dawn, and a son that's fightin' in the war.
The singer, who is a son, is told that his mother passed away in the garden where the blackbird flies. She talked about the author's home in Ohio and how it was cold and windy, and how he was fighting in the war.
Ain't no exit I see, from this black where I breathe and the garden, is a thousand miles gone.
The artist sees no way out of the darkness of war and misery, and the garden seems eons away.
Mother just died, with a heart dark as mine, of the stone-bridge, leads to the road.
The artist's mother passed away, and her heart was as bleak as the artist's. The bridge to the outside world is paved with stone, and it leads to the road they must travel.
Daddy's done cryin', 'cause mother's done dyin'. oh, the cancer, has eaten her whole. But I'm stuck in this war, to make d___ sure they don't come, they don't come...
The artist's father has stopped crying now that his wife has passed away from the cancer that consumed her wholly. Nevertheless, the artist will not stop fighting until he is certain that the enemy will not come and harm his family.
Where the blackbird sang and now lives at her grave. And the garden has grown itself dry.
The blackbird once chirped in the garden, which is now a desiccated, barren patch of land where the mother is buried.
If I ever get home, from this terror I've known, go to the garden, go to the garden, and I'll wait there to die.
If the artist ever survives the wretchedness of war and comes home, he will go to the garden and await his death there.
Contributed by John N. Suggest a correction in the comments below.