(by far) Album of the year 2011 by

Josh T. Pearson.

(1/800, F5.6, ISO200, 220mm)


2 thoughts on “

  1. Here is what the man himself has to say:

    Rough Trade Agreement,
    Nutcracker Suite Dreamin’,

    Any of you British boys ever get your nut sack slammed in the tailgate and the bed of a pickup truck? Well don’t, cuz it it really really hurts! Take it from me, dumb ass JTP. I doubt it happens as much over there as it does here, probably cuz ya’ll are smarter, or cuz ya ain’t got as many pickup trucks. That, or maybe cuz things are just bigger in Texas. I don’t know. Anyway, I wouldn’t recommend it to anybody, EVER!, at all, even for the elevating ‘Experience’ factor. This album kinda feels like that I think but a little bit worse. I’m sorry I had to write it. And I’m sorry I had to unleash it on the world.
    I hope it brings you some comfort though in the middle of your cold and lonely nights. God bless ya for listening, bless ya for trying, and may the gods richly bless the Rough Traders for helping bring light to the dark winds and worlds. Evidently they think some of ya’ll could use it. Back in my day we didn’t have fancy record shops with fancy albums of the months clubs to help guide us. We had one record store in Dallas called Bill’s and noone helped you at all. Ever. Not even wild Bill. It took an hour and half to get there in your pickup truck, and when you did finally get there, they treated you like crap for coming all that way and for asking stupid questions about musicians they thought everybody should be born knowing the answers to. It was awesome. Rough traders indeed. I remember the first time going to the R.T. shop in Portobello. I couldn’t believe I’d actually made it there.
    I asked the guy behind the counter, ‘Am I really here?’, and without missing a beat or looking up he said, ‘Yeah, I hope so mate, if not we’re both totally fucked.’ It was good to feel at home. I’m sure glad they’ve weathered the record store storms and kept it up and kept it going. (Bill’s didn’t make it btw) It makes you happy just knowing good things are out there. We should all be so lucky. Anyway, someone at the shops must think some of ya’ll have been kicked in the proverbial nut sack here as of late and are in some serious need of comforting as they’ve made this sad sad album, Album of their Month Club. I hope they are wrong about you, and I pray you have had such good fortune in your lives that these songs mean nothing to you and that they never will mean anything more. EVER.
    But if they do, bless your wild and crazy hearts for trying and bless theirs for choosing this to help speed you toward a swift recovery. And remember my encouraging words, ‘The bigger the balls, the more it hurts when you’re kicked.’ So if you’re in a lot of pain it’s cuz you’ve got a big ole heart or something. Somehow we should take comfort in that, when it hurts so good that it hurts? It’s just hard to be happy about such sad sad songs. Take it from me, dumb ass JTP. Here’s a joke to comfort.- Ya’ll know the difference between ‘jam’ and ‘jelly’? Ya can’t get your nut sack ‘jellied’ between the tailgate and the bed of pickup truck.
    This record should kick like a mule, or I didn’t do my job at writing it. It took a year off my life at least. I hope it adds a little life to yours. I mean that. Peace.
    Bless ya Nutcrackers, There’s no dancin’ around this one.
    Not-so-suite dreamin’,

    Josh T. Pearson

    Ya’ll Take Care. See ya in another 5-10 if you’re unlucky, and remember, Always tip your record store clerks. Somebody in this family has got to pay for the Lights. And it sure as hell can’t be me this time, not after what it cost me the last time, and not on a musician’s salary at that. It’s expensive trying to save the whole goddang world sometimes. That shit ‘ll slow… you… down. Which reminds me of a joke. What’s the difference between a Extra Large pizza and a musician? Well, I’ll tell you the answer if they ever hit me in the head with another album of the month club one day. Until then, remember, 5-10 just for playin’ music, 10-20 ‘ll get ya Life. Hold onto the Lights my friends. Hold onto the Lights.

    (If you’re ever unlucky enough to break down or end up in Dallas, there’s only one good record shop left again. It’s called, uh, Good Records. They were running short on names. Tell ’em your from Britain and they’ll ask you where it’s at. Tell ’em I sent you and they’ll charge you double.)

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