Trouble Go Down: Everything Broken and Everything Beautiful

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Rebecca Reynolds and I began writing songs together in August, 2011, and in Spring of 2012 she sent me these image-filled lyrics, inspired partly by an early morning she spent on Lake Barclay duck hunting with her Dad. It’s one of the few songs on the record that isn’t quite like an old gospel song, but it has a very reflective, peaceful, meditative feeling and thought behind it.

Back when we wrote it I did a recording with just two guitars and vocal and we put it up here at the Rabbit Room for fun in April, 2012. I used my 1938 Martin D28 and D18 of the same year, recorded with Neumann KM-54s and quality preamps and eq.

This recording became the basis for the version on Trouble Go Down; Jeff added piano and accordion, Tim Crouch did strings, Mark Fain played bass, and the great Ellie Holcomb sailed her voice on the harmony lines during the choruses.

[Trouble Go Down is available in the Rabbit Room Store.]


 

“Everything Broken and Everything Beautiful”
Music: Ron Block/Moonlight Canyon Publishing/BMI
Lyrics: Rebecca Reynolds/Wynken Owl/BMI

Low, low flies the shadow owl,
Across the morning waters.
Low makes her gentle way.

Low, low lies my soul before Thee,
Beside the morning waters.
Low have I come to pray.

The wild heron cries
with the wind in her eyes
the carp dances honest and free
stirs my soul, to see
O, Lord

Welcome everything broken,
and everything beautiful,
trembling and holy,
and drifting and brave.

There’s a cup of a moon,
sleeping white on still waters,
climbs a silver ladder,
in the fracture of the waves.

Low, low burn the stars in waiting,
Across the womb of heaven.
Low make their tender way.

Low, low stirs the hymn of promise,
beneath the womb of heaven.
Low in the birth of day.

The fog angels bathe
in a choir of praise
yield to the sun as it rises
sighing in silent reprises
O,Lord

Welcome everything broken,
and everything beautiful,
trembling and holy,
and drifting and brave.

There’s a cup of a moon,
sleeping white on still waters,
climbs a silver ladder,
in the fracture of the waves.

Winner of 147 Grammys (or so), Ron Block is the banjo-ninja portion of Alison Kraus and Union Station. When he’s not laying down a bluegrass-style martial-arts whoopin’ on audiences around the world, he’s taking care of his donkey named “Trash” and keeping himself busy by being one of the most well-read and thoughtful people we know.


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