Ryan Adams Related Material

“Jimmy Whistlenut” by Ryan Adams

made at unknown date and released at unknown date

“Head over to Stereogum to hear a new, possibly old Ryan Adams song, the bizarre country ballad “Jimmy Whistlenut” which features the chorus: ‘You’re in a time machine, and you’re trippin on robotussin and crack/ so here’s to Jimmy Whistelnut, break dancin’, and jumping jacks.’ “

—americansongwriter.com

“While you’re waiting for the digial release [of “OBLIVION” b/w “People Need Sunlight”], or if you just missed the lighter side of D.R. Adams, have a listen to “Jimmy Whistlenut,” which is the pretty, epic ballad of Jimmy Whistlenut’s sax blowing wife, trouser licking dog, penchant for tripping on Robitussin and crack, time machine, break dancing, and jumping jacks. Not a non-non sequitur in the bunch, so you know it’s good.”

—Stereogum

Ryan Adams reads his poems “Plus Dreams” and “White Diamond” from Hello Sunshine

*excerpt from Live at the NYPL, with Mary Louise Parker, Sep. 25, 2009.

______________________________________________________________

“Plus Dreams”

okay so it goes like this—

word clutter, endless—

thankless pitiful days

are planted and ready

and we are a new winter

already

but blip clang zap go

machines at night and

most of the time i am not

as much sad

as i am just, well…ready

and nothing goes as fast as

this

whatever this is

this

which comes with blurheart

and repeat fizzle-stutters

this

which holds me to the pen

and

words guide the fastening

of a bushel of new days

plus dreams

————————————————————-

“White Diamond”

Lots of things make noise,

even nights

can make all that noise

so i stopped building noise factories inside my house

typing away into the void,

into the hurricanes

i stopped

building yapping machines out of strangers

and letting in the gas from the dream cemetery

swamps

that noise sounded funny

then bad

like a scream for help

if it was helpless fast

so i quit

into the hurricane

i stopped looking at those ghost pictures and

i stopped listening to those disembodied voices

with

so many opinions

that almost

for how cruel and negative

a person can be

they forget to have their own…

you know, identity

so easy these people are

nowadays like dominoes falling into place

when someone starts the smear campaign

yelling “come on” engines starting

people so easy—with words

these blind fools word marching

burning torches with words

out their bedrooms

out their back rooms

he starts the dogs

gnarling gnashing teeth out the gates

it meant nothing to read books

or

to capture summertime things in your hand

or, well

…kisses

those “sloppy fucking hand up your skirt”—

…kisses “running fingers across the side of your back

down to where you arms fold then…stop”—…kisses…

nope

the word marches roll through the word towns of

museums

the night watchman is beaten down with words

while

the night watchman is sleeping—and the paintings

come down

burning one by one

to the ground

on a pile with the other artifacts and the folklore

and

whatever wasn’t bolted to the ground

even the ink pens in the bank with the chains

they were swinging empty on the bottom

over the wood-paneled counter

if they were an idea

you could race the others to the yard with

and stand there on the banks

of the cliff

and with all that music

watch it go over the side of the quarry

and fall

like a classic car

exploding on the rocks

everyone standing there

at their keyboards

blank

like a killer’s

eyes

it’s super weird

people have stopped counting

on their hands

and

in their heads

everyone is ON SOMETHING

in their mouths twice a day

or ON SOMETHING

electric bicycles

staring blankly into screens

and

those screens have funny lines going across them

when you videotape them—

and people look like they are in a trance

disappeared and

so sad

at the end of the entrance

with no-exit blank eyes

and carrying it now nervous

their little palms always stuck

to their faces

with their devices

unaware of how pretty

it is to be out walking

in all these amazing places

riddled with billboards

screaming into the alleyways

like glass floating houses

into the hurricane

oh well

i pretend i am a hovering diner

full of fucked pirates in their oil-stained linen shirts

cuffs out

smoking and being asses, beer-gutted and crook-toothed

and/or

i am surrounded

in a white formica silver-and-gold flecked booth by

library anomalies

the diner is me but a robot me with shiny insides—

silver on the walls

real metal

in the back—where the swinging doors swing

when the BELL pops and goes RING

like a cat

moving moving across porcelain pizza boxes

reading minds like a psychic trucker

his hand twitches and reaches for the coffee scalding

hot,

always,

as dawn fades up and down like it is note guessing

the bridge

in a trap

called

…get this…

“the white diamond”

the old lady summer waits it out till the heat dies and

it’s always someone else’s fault

isn’t it when it changes so slow and

with one flash of the bulb—swish

that picture is made

and

it’s your fault

if you kept

reading

the menu

your name was always right here in the back

next to mine

because

we always loved each other so so much,

stranger

we always loved each other this much before the

screens went on

before the mystery was undone

and we forgot our telephone digits by heart

our addresses not places on a street

or

halfway up a building side overlooking the highway

but things we typed into the beast

the beast

inside us an insecurity and a nagging pang

forever hungry

“Light As a Feather” by Norah Jones, co-written with Ryan Adams

from Jones’ fourth album The Fall

Light As a Feather

While the seasons will undo your soul
Time forgives us and it takes control
But separate our things to put us back together

We’re light as a feather
Heavy as the weather if it was raining stones

Put our hands together to applaud or pray
It’s like the show was over, a need to escape and walk away
All for the better, worse for the way

We’re light as a feather
Got you and I together
Meanwhile inside me, it was raining stones

You didn’t know

God bless your soul

We’re light as a feather
Heavy as the weather
We’re light as a feather
Got you and I together

“I knew I wanted to try some different things on this album. I’d been playing with the same musicians for a long time. We’re all still friendly and I hope we play together again, but it felt like a good time to work with new people and experiment with different sounds.”

“It just felt more natural for me to play it on these songs. I knew I wanted to play with grooves more than I have on previous albums. Some of these new songs lent themselves to having driving rhythms underneath.”

—Norah Jones

______________________________________________________________________________

*above Ryan Adams and Norah Jones performing live “Dear John” back in Dec. 2006 at New York City’s Town Hall.

(*via spin.com)

GALAXIAN “Fortress of the Spider Gods” by Ryan Adams

posted 11 Nov. 2009 on ryanada.ms