The Instruments: A cane that Willie Johnson tried to escape the Apaches with, and nylon wire ties from Car Quest. An electric mandolin made out of John Harris' Grandpa's oak tree. A lap steel guitar made from the piece of ash that held Tyler (John's personal catfish pet) at bay for 31 years in the family swimming pool. [Side note, John says Shore Lunch is the best damned fish breading available in Horton KS] A fretless bass guitar made from a fretted bass guitar by gently & lovingly grinding the devil frets off with a flint stone acquired from an Indian medicine man in the mountains of Colorado in a game of chicken on pigmy goats. John won, & had his choice of the flint rock or the Indian's toothless squaw. You can see John was all about this album. A 10 watt SS amplifier retrofitted with a bad monkey spank my ass & call me sally overdrive distortion pedal, a dolla-general (not to be confused with dollie/lamma) funnel, and a fairly clean anhydrous siphoning hose to make the most bad ass talk box pee-wee phrampton ever seen. The Setting: A small hotel room with a Gideon Bible, a half carton of Marlboro's, & 16 smokin' fools. The Weather: Raining like we ourta build an ark. The Songs: 12 chords, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, sin, debauchery, triumph, whores, redemption, a needle and a rig, happiness, hurt, prosperity, devastation, & a salamander named Frank Cambridge Junior. Oh, and fully chaperoned by a guy named Brady. The Musicians: Once I, the writer, Doug the Postman, went to the church on Blankenship Road. The Choir started singing & us we parishioners joined in. Then a loud booming voice from hither yonder shouted, "Piano player is a SOB." The Rev. Jones says, "Now who called the piano player a SOB?" But no one responded. So we commenced to singing again. Once again the voice came forth, "Piano player is a SOB." And the Rev Jones beseeched the congregation for a confession. But none came forth. Rev Jones says, "We will not make continuance until the guilty party comes forth!" in a forceful Rev Jones kind of way. And his eyes pierced every man, woman & child within his visionary tract. But to no avail. Well, as it turns out, assistant reverend, The Very, very Most Very Reverend Chuck says. "Rev Jones, if I may. I have no carnal knowledge of the infidel that called the piano player a SOB, but I do want to know who called that SOB a piano player?" And the Rev Chuck said, "Here are the SOB's on this album: John Harris, instrument builder, harmonica, mandolin, bass, Willie's cane, guitar, vocals, producer, and oh yea, he did write about 15/16th of the songs. Chance Link, bass, vocals, & songwriter (Kimberlin Hill). Julio Flores, drums. Jim Mayer, guitar, bongos, lap steel and mastering (master baiter, how ya think we caught 'ol Tyler?) Rev Chuck Coleman, mandolin, guitar, & vocals. Mike Bowen, special guest on violin on faded paint. Harris Family Choir, special guest on peepin tom. Monkee (Cadence) Harris, very special super special guest playing the recorder and introducing the Rev on peepin tom. Brenda Harris, special guest vocals on big black train. The Packaging: You will be receiving a CD with artwork by John Harris. Every graphic was graphically drawn with his right hand while eating a muc-duble with his left. The printing was done under one of his two crossed eyes. The CD jewels were stuffed by a member of his family or himself. The CD's were printed in his studio under the direct supervision of his personal captain, Mr. Captain Morgan. Not one product has reached the public that hasn't been built, inspected, or packaged by a member of his bloodline.
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