Every once in a while I stumble across something in the archives that reminds me how a song really started.
“Small Town” began on a long drive back to Denver after spending several unexpected weeks in my hometown of Roseau, Minnesota.
The Song
I like small towns
The nights are quiet
No interstate highways
Screamin’ in the starlight
And every store clerk says,
“No credit cards, friend, but
there’s an ATM in the Ben Franklin.”
Small town
I grew up
Without a television
The only thing that we did
Was play with the neighbor kids
Some of us still
Haven’t seen the ocean
We don’t care a notion
‘Bout all the commotion
We got a small town
Small town
Small town
My dad said, “Kids,
Listen to your mother.
Treat her like you love her.
Look out for each other.
“Someday soon
When you have a family
You will know what I mean.
You will know what I mean.”
Small town
Small town
Small town
The Story
I used to get most of my ideas for songs while driving. I started humming the melody and first line of this one while driving back to Denver from Roseau, Minnesota, my hometown.
I’d just spent several weeks there while waiting for my dad’s buddy Loren Ballard to fix my car.
I’d blown a head gasket just outside of Kearney, Nebraska, on my way to perform a concert. But rather than fixing it in Nebraska, my dad said on the phone, “Stay put.”
He took off work and drove 11 hours through the night. The next day he showed up with a car hauler borrowed from Tim Kofstad and a Chevy Silverado borrowed from Brock Lindberg, both family friends.
I don’t think my dad really trusted any mechanic other than Loren Ballard. Growing up, it seemed like we always had a car in his shop. My dad used to say, “If Loren’s kids had wanted to go to college, we would have put them through.”
Anyway, it had been a while since I’d stayed in Roseau for that long. Not since high school. And the thing that struck me most was how quiet the nights were.
Especially since my place in Denver was next to an I-70 overpass. The constant zooming of cars and trucks sounds like muzak after a while. You just don’t notice it until it’s gone. Until you’re in a town like Roseau.
When I got back to Denver, I finished the first draft of the song.
When I got back to Denver, I finished writing the first draft of the song. The next night I had a gig at a club called the Walnut Room. I thought if I felt confident enough, I’d try it out on the audience. You can hear the recording of that performance here .
Some of the lyrics have changed since then, and the overall delivery was shaky. But I remember feeling that night like I’d touched on something I’d never touched before. A certain connection.
You can hear someone laugh at the line about the ATM in the Ben Franklin. It’s such a specific reference, and a little wink to people from the upper Midwest.
I think that was the first time I realized I liked being more specific in my writing.
My first album was cloaked in metaphors that could mean a lot of different things to different people. But being more specific felt a little dangerous because it revealed more of me. I was beginning to be okay with that.
And honestly, I think that realization set the tone for the whole Songs From a Small Town album, where my writing leaned more heavily on concrete imagery.
A Few Details
- An old high school classmate I hadn’t seen in at least seven years showed up at the Walnut Room the night I first tried the song live. The odds. I remember thinking, Should I really try this song out with her in the crowd? I never got a chance to talk with her after the show, so I still don’t know whether she liked it or not.
- The guitar I used to record the song is an old Silvertone acoustic. I bought it when I was 15 from Mrs. Glassman, my Phy-Ed teacher, who was having a garage sale. She never cashed the $20 check I wrote her, and I know it was on purpose. Thank you, Mrs. Glassman.
- I initially vetoed the horns in the last part of the song. I thought they were too overstated, but I changed my mind, and I’m glad I did. Thanks to my beloved producer and friend Chris Cunningham for dusting off his high school trumpet.
- One production reference for the song was Josh Ritter’s “Girl in the War.” If you listen to the two songs back to back, you can hear some similarity in the snare drum tone. That’s courtesy of Ben Wysocki, a fabulous drummer and friend who played on all the tracks.
- The Ben Franklin in the song was a real place. I used to ride my bike there to look at the goldfish and buy baseball cards. There was also a small arcade where I played Street Fighter more times than my mother will ever know.
The Quiet Corner
Most weeks I share things like this with the patrons—demos, unfinished songs, and little notes from the road.
I consider it a cozy little nook of internet.
If you ever feel like pulling up a chair there, you’re welcome.