Thom Dunn is a Boston-based writer, musician, and utterly terrible dancer. He is the singer/guitarist for the indie rock/power-pop the Roland High Life, as well as a staff writer for the New York Times’ Wirecutter and a regular contributor at BoingBoing.net. Thom enjoys Oxford commas, metaphysics, and romantic clichés (especially when they involve whiskey), and he firmly believes that Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" is the single greatest atrocity committed against mankind. He is a graduate of Clarion Writer's Workshop at UCSD ('13) & Emerson College ('08).
Photo by Jake WM
Back in October, my old band the Roland High Life and I reconvened at a house in the woods of Vermont to write and record our first album in 10 years. So far, it sounds pretty great, and I even premiered a few of the new songs at Frank Turner’s Lost Evenings festival in Boston, at the Open Mic event hosted by Derek of the Homeless Gospel Choir. The response from the crowd was fantastic, and I’m looking forward to getting these songs out into the world!
As anyone who's met me would probably expect, I'm super pumped about CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR. So to celebrate, here's a song I recently wrote about Clint Barton, the powerless, purple-wearing, bow-and-arrow-loving badass known as Hawkeye. (Specifically, it's about the comic book version of Hawkeye, with allusions to his relationship with Kate Bishop and his life growing up in the carnival and his death and resurrection at the hands of Wanda Maximoff but...let's not get so bogged down in continuity, yeah?)
This looks bad
You can blame that on my dear ol' deadbeat dad
But I'm not mad
Until the arrow that I've notched becomes my last
One more shot to break
this carny from his cage
where a low-life can escape
to save the day
So I'll stay on target
Because that's all I know how to do
Just as long as I'm next to you
And I know that this looks bad
But the quivering is all I've ever had
Like some Nomad
Or a Ronin dressed in black to hide the past
Draw the bow back, breathe
One moment of control
Because once it flies
You never know
So I'll stay on target
Because that's all I know how to do
Stay on target
While I'm fighting my way through
Stay on target
Just as long as I'm next to you
"Not like this."
When the silence stings
My sight's my only bliss
But I won't miss
Because I'm going out in style
with my greatest hits
I'm no Giant Man
But I won't give up the fight
Until my violet violence
Takes its flight
Back in March when I posted my St. Patrick's Day cover songs, I started thinking about other fun arrangements I could do with my woodrow / upright dulcimer. Since it's already tuned to an open D5, I was particularly curious to try and translate songs from Drop-D guitar into dulcimer tunes — and so, for my first demonstration, I chose "The Modern Leper" by Frightened Rabbit, the song which first made me fall in love with that band.
Here's the original version for comparison, in case you're not familiar (unfortunately, my Scottish accent is not nearly as good as Scott Hutchison's, but I do my best):
As I've mentioned before, I had this idea for an album of punk rock covers done in a folk / bluegrass style, which I kind of gave up on but recently re-invested myself in (it's amazing what some nice recording mics can inspire in a person). So naturally, while I was snowed into my house this past weekend, I used that time productively to revisit one of my "Folk In Drublic" tunes. This one is the punk rock classic "Kill The Poor" by the Dead Kennedys. Basically, I thought it would be hilarious to be ironic about an already-ironic song, and turn an ironic punk song into a genuine-sounding country hick right wing anthem. So, uh, you're welcome. I guess.
About a year and a half ago, I had the idea to record an album of classic punk cover songs, done in a folky / bluegrass style. I got most of the demo / scratch tracks down, but then of course, life got in the way, as it often does. But now that I got some fancy new toys in my musical arsenal, I decided to revisit it. And so without any further ado, here's the first track of the album that would (and someday might still) be called Folk In Drublic: "Radio" by Rancid. Except, ya know, with less growls, more banjo and lap steel.
[soundcloud url="http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/75025377" params="" width=" 100%" height="166" iframe="true" /]
(Banjo by my buddy Andy Michaels)
Scene: 8pm, Saturday night. Meeting up with the fine folks at Vagabond Theatre Group (who produced True Believers) at a bar later in the evening. I finally open up the tube preamp that I bought to accompany my the new recording mics that I received for Christmas. Instead of just setting it up in my recording studio, I decide to, you know, actually try it out. 2 hours later, I'm late for the party. But I did this: [soundcloud url="http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/74737500" params="" width=" 100%" height="166" iframe="true" /] So you're welcome.
