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WHERE THE WILDEST SPIRITS FLY

by The Pinkerton Raid

supported by
Mark S. Nielsen
Mark S. Nielsen thumbnail
Mark S. Nielsen Plaintive voices. Good with the ol' metaphor.... and with plenty of gutsy things to SAY, too. The perfect blend of Boston headiness and hillbilly heart. If this be the sound of hope, PLAY ON! Favorite track: The Boys from Lowell.
sylvainvichot
sylvainvichot thumbnail
sylvainvichot I like this song. It reminds me of Uncle Tupelo. Favorite track: These Colors Don't Run.
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    The Pinkerton Raid's fourth full-length album on CD, with art designed by Adam Neubauer

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Winter Songs by Other People, "Wiggins Special (Freedom Ain't Free)", The Highway Moves the World, WHERE THE WILDEST SPIRITS FLY, Tolerance Ends, Love Begins, A Beautiful World, and The Pinkerton Raid. , and , .

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1.
Meteors 03:21
Once on a time, the white spire climbed where only the angels can fly A morningstar high, the seaside city’s guide Her light shone bright in the sky We were the moons, our centrifuge, we shook loose Asteroids, colliding, Bull Moose Records in a china shop, Whirling, turning right off the turntable December donuts slipping down Congress corridor We’re free, but we don’t know who we are We lost our orbits, now we’re meteors In the old North Church they drank their tea Some they sent to Halifax, dodging George’s taxes The kettle cooled down, then it simmered again When the party began, only the greycoats were there
2.
Stella Maris 03:35
(The sky is the sea, the sky is the sea, the sky is an ocean, the sky is the sea) Saint Placid slips beneath, the boy is drowning, the boy is drowning The spirit moves Old Ben, go and save him, go and save him Saint Maurus races down, walks on water, walks on water Placid’s placid, Placid’s placid Stella Maris, you kept him home A sailor clings to a rock, it’s spinning blue, spinning green, Floating deep in the sea, it’s spinning blue, spinning green, The water fills his lungs, he’s sinking deeper, sinking deeper, He’s slipping out of reach, floating deep in the sea Stella Maris, take him home The children splash in the waves, riptide warning, riptide warning The moon reached down, it grabbed their mother, dragged her under Shadow darkens the moon, the lights are out, the lights are out Who can light the lighthouse fire? Where’s the star to lead us home? Stella Maris, lead us home
3.
On the third deck of a triple-decker little Danny lifts his little bones Workin seven days, daybreak to nightfall, like the Chinese did in California He spins innocent cotton at the Massachusetts Mill And he ain’t even 12 years old His pa got hurt from a flying shuttle Like his granddad did before He’s gonna fly down to the river The dam’s holding back the water Gonna follow them rocks wherever they lead To where the ocean meets the sky On the river, he’s gonna fly On the third deck of a triple-decker little Johnny’s stories are autumn leaves His ma holds his hand through the streets of the city Where the saints are buried they go French social club, St. Louis de France, There’s Chinese cooking downtown He skips class when the nuns ain’t lookin’ ‘Cause the bookshelves take him somewhere On the third deck of a triple-decker little Jamie zooms his x-wing fighter Got it down at the Zayre at the Central Plaza with the Aquaman underwear He wears them proud outside his pants, There’s Chinese cooking downstairs Never seen little Johnny’s stations of the cross Out back the Franco-American School
4.
Thin Places 04:25
The air is thick with death, my friends, a fire from below It started green but it turned to red, ripe and rotting from long ago We burn it long to fuel our lives, though the smoke, it fills our lungs The air is thin, too thin to breathe, can we put the fire out? Meet me in the thin places where the air and fire collide Meet me in the thin places where the wildest spirits fly Your skin is dark like armor, no sticks or stones can break Your body language bears the scars of punches you did take Your skin is thin beneath the calloused, calloused thoughts can wound I need to bare my own thin skin, to feel like you do, feel like you do Meet me in the thin places where the skin and the fire collide Meet me in the thin places where the wildest spirits fly The water’s thick with oil and blood that soil the native lands Its people drinking, choking, drowning, on this rock today they stand The water’s thin, the poison spreads to poison every drop The water makes us, water makes us, can we turn the poison off? Meet me in the thin places where the water and the fire collide Meet me in the thin places where the wildest spirits fly
5.
The House of Green was granted land in the reign of George the Sixth Hence four-score years the Greens had grown to threaten good Duchess Lynn The Duchess called her mighty men to stall the Green’s advance They drew their swords and marched in strength through Greens’ unguarded lands They cut out the heart of the House of Green They left but a shell of the House of Green They cut out the heart of the House of Green There’s naught but a shell of the House of Green The Greens survived on conquered land, the Duchess on her throne The more they grow, the more she cuts, their land no more their own The air was clean in the lands of green, the Duchess mars the skies The air was clean in the lands of green, the air was yours and mine
6.
Soft blows the breeze ‘cross an Indiana field Spins us round and round and round Cold blows the breeze ‘cross an Indiana field People going places, economic engines racin’ We are windmills in the fog, windmills in the fog Windmills in the fog, windmills in the fog Soft blows the breeze ‘cross an Indiana field Spins us round and round and round Breeze blows the flame where a garden did lay Smoke whispers high, says the forest has died Hey, ho, we go, we go, we go, go, go We go, we go, we go, go, go We can’t see where we go, go, go But we go, we go, we go, go, go We don’t know where we’re going, we are standing still The light breaks free on an Indiana field The clouds float high in a pale blue sky The blades gleam white, reflect the light We need not spin, the wind is still We’re windmills in the sun, windmills in the sun windmills in the sun, windmills in the sun
7.
In a house that needs a washing, in a white-washed washingtown Them rains of gold are falling on Lady Freedom’s crown Her green light says to come on home, ‘cross skies and seas of blue Her light won’t shine forever, with walls it can’t go through You said these colors don’t run, these colors don’t run Then why are you so afraid? The purple mountains, majesties, rise up from red and blue Vecinos de bronces, precious bronze, bring wealth to me and you If we build it, they won’t come, the lady’s torch will flicker We’ll turn gray and crumble in the cruel desert winds Your god’s engraved in the grayest of steel With power to take life, never give She wields it with whimsy, ‘gainst old, against young If you’d let her go, they could live Red, white & blue, red, white & blue Red, yellow, brown, black & white
8.
Bless-your-hearted people, they’re afraid of the dark Peace officers are making war, and they don’t wanna talk about it Bless-your-hearted people, they silence the word Of the prophets who tell them the truth that they should have learned by now We ride the Jefferson Davis Highway, we sing in God’s own country Main Street’s named for the president who commanded the Confederates To defend them Dixie Pharaohs against the armies of the Lord Main Street’s got a monument for the fighters for the cause Gotta tear it down like that battle flag cause the war is over now We ride the Jefferson Davis Highway, to sing in God’s own country They say it’s just our history, don’t tread on who we are But the father’s sins keep visitin’, ghosts are hauntin’, ghosts are on the… Jefferson Davis Highway, we sing in God’s own country Jefferson Davis Highway, we sing in God’s own country, no more Jefferson Davis Highway, we’ll sing in God’s own country, get off that Jefferson Davis Highway, let's sing in God’s own country
9.
The king, his hips turned the blues to suede Made black Okeh for the blue-eyed gaze I love you, the girl shouts I can’t help, the king sings Oh, no, no, the people cry Oh, no, no By then those hips, they were bloated and slow He’d be gone in six weeks, they’d cry oh, no, no It was the king’s last stand, it was the king’s last stand It was the king’s last stand, it was the king’s last stand Good Robert, the prince of Camelot The sad news he did proclaim Oh, no, no, the people cry Oh, no, no, the people wail Oh, no, no, the people shout Oh, no, no. And the prince he said, Brothers, my brothers, they shot our brothers Can this awful grace make us love one another? Brothers, my brothers, they shot our brothers Is this the king’s last stand? Is this the king’s last stand? Is this the king’s last stand? Is this the king’s last stand? Oh, no, no
10.
What gift can you give to he who has everything? You can give him your laughter, your fear You can dig out a lake for he who has everything You can fill it with blood, sweat and tears He’ll scoop out a pint and inspect it for clarity The water will turn into beer Sweet pitchers of mercy, we’ll find at the shore Sweet pitchers of mercy, our tears cry no more What gift can you give to she who has everything? Raise a glass to our mother who bore This family, been feuding and fighting and bickering Since the oldest of old days of yore So give her the gift of us drinking togetherly And the sum of our parts become more
11.
Home 02:56
We went south to the Old North State But friend, you didn’t stay long A seabird, you were sailing free The Puget Sound’s a siren song Back east, friend, we were making home Home, where they love you Home, where they hurt you Home, where your heart stops So many times you’ve talked of home Of coming back, of settling down It’s a job, it's a girl or the ghost of girl If it’s not one thing, it’s another I’ve stopped believing that you're coming home We’re here, when you’re ready It’s now, or it’s ever And, friend, if it’s never Maybe you’re already home

about

Near the start of The Pinkerton Raid’s fourth full-length album, WHERE THE WILDEST SPIRITS FLY, songwriter Jesse James DeConto asks, “Where’s the star to lead us home?” Amid landscapes pigmented with pain, the question is a quest for meaning, in resistance to Camus’ absurdity and the Will-to-Power in the White House. And the answer, over and over again, in a repeating cycle of realistic truth-telling and undeterred hope, is simply this: We sing together.

For nearly three years, Jesse and other band members have been leading barroom sing-alongs back home in North Carolina, gravitating toward the songs that have soundtracked social movements since the 1940s: Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna Come,” “What the World Needs Now,” made famous by Dionne Warwick, and countless songs by Dylan, Guthrie and Seeger.

Rather than chasing a particular sound, Jesse worked with producer David Wimbish (The Collection) and engineer Jeff Crawford (Skylar Gudasz) at Arbor Ridge Studios to serve the melodies and invite the listener to sing along. Drummer/trumpeter Scott McFarlane, bassist Jon DePue, saxophonist Tony Sali and guitarist/percussionist Steven DeConto form the core of the band, and the new recordings capture the sing-along vibe with a choir joining in on the catchy choruses.

The Pinkerton Raid has shared stages with The Ballroom Thieves, Annabelle's Curse, Forlorn Strangers, Lowland Hum, Noah Gundersen and Denison Witmer. The release of TOLERANCE ENDS, LOVE BEGINS in 2017 brought the band from Durham to Chicago to Washington DC, with slots at the Festival for the Eno and Shakori Hills, a session at DAYTROTTER and critical acclaim from PASTE, NO DEPRESSION, POPDOSE, AQUARIAN WEEKLY and more.

credits

released May 1, 2018

All songs (C) 2018 Jesse James DeConto

Produced by David Wimbish,
with Jesse James DeConto & Jeff Crawford

Engineered & mixed by Jeff Crawford
at Arbor Ridge Studios, Chapel Hill, N.C.

Mastered by Morgan Sizer at Mozu Mastering, Atlanta, Ga.

vocals, acoustic and electric guitars - Jesse James DeConto
drums, background vocals - Scott McFarlane
bass - Jonathan DePue
electric guitar, ukulele, background vocals - Steven DeConto
saxophone - Tony Sali
trumpet, trombone - Graham Dickey
Rhodes, piano, percussion, vibraphone, guitars - David Wimbish
organ, percussion - Jeff Crawford
background vocals - Alex Hill, Caroline Schuman, Katie DeConto
background vocals on "The House of Green" - Brett Harris

Band/booking contact: jesse@pinkertonraid.com

Press contact:
August Forte
NoVo Management and Publicity
4245 N Knox Ave.
Chicago, IL 60641
Tel. 773-278-6686
august@novo.net
www.novo.net

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The Pinkerton Raid Durham, North Carolina

"Radiant"
- American Songwriter

"Anthemic" - americanaUK

"You won't be able to stop humming." - No Depression

“The garage rock swagger of the White Stripes and the irritated kick of Cage The Elephant.” — GLIDE MAGAZINE
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