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Always, somewhere, it is morning.

by Kendy Gable

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1.
Old Howard 02:57
Old Howard lived in a shack in the back of our fields, that's where he slept. He lived off of dried apples and cigarettes. What happened to him? What happened to him? Oh, they don't make many men like him. Every morning, he would walk into town. He would buy a pack of pencils then he would turn around and spend his nights writing letters by candlelight. What happened to him? What happened to him? Oh, they don't make many men like him. 1945, two came back alive. 1945 and two came back alive. Dear Louise, the sky it burns at night, foreign lights, this ground is not mine. What am I fighting for? I want to be at your front door, your front door. 1945, two came back alive. 1945 and two came back alive. What happened to him? What happened to him? Oh, they don't make many men like him. 1945, two came back alive. 1945 and two came back alive.
2.
Land Waters 01:26
Land waters, inner seas, varied mind, oh please forgive me... Here, where the deer run, they feast upon rows, start again, what does the calendar show? What once was... What once was... Oh, I'd do it all again, I'd do it all again, all again...
3.
Melbourne 02:17
And I, I don't hear silence, anymore. Noise it follows me when, I close the door. You, you've got your seas, your clean pulling seas. While I've got high rises and factories. And you, remain in my mind. Oh how I cried, in the sunshine Trees, well I see figs and I smell gum leaves. Mornings, they were filled balloons, hot air and you. Oh and time how it goes by, with so much to say... it's all lost anyway
4.
Wellington 03:18
The wind blows harder on Wellington. Stand close to the edge, breathe the air in, oh I use to dance so slow, till the morning light would show, through the panels on the walls, now I don't dance at all... Your yellow car wouldn't start in the morning cold. I would laugh, you'd say, 'well she's old and we're all getting that way.' Oh it's inevitable, the sun sets everyday, everyday. Late at night I would ride, down Brunswick Road's unlit street sides. How the bats would fly, but my fear I would hide, just to be by your side in twenty minutes time. The wind blows harder on Wellington. Stand close to the edge, breathe the air in, oh I use to dance so slow, till the morning light would show, through the panels on the walls, now I don't dance at all...
5.
Tonight the rain is from the southern sky. Clouds they blacken in seconds, quick time. The Romans named the winds, and this one they called Notus, wayward and wild. Tell me about that bird, the one that sings with its wings. Talk to me like you haven't heard, everything, everything. Lightening strikes, rarely in the same place twice. Oh, hold on tight, for the rest of my life, the rest of my life. The Romans named the winds, and this one they called Notus, wayward and wild.
6.
Bowerbird 03:12
Time, you've all the time I can't wait, you've used all of mine. Singing, sighing, laying, lying...words that rhyme. Well, I once knew a man who gave the little that he had away. The bowerbird collects his things. Blues take blue and yellows find gold things. Well, hear that song she sings... Oh well, I don't mind the outside, whenever the sun it shines... Many words I've memorized. Inscriptions on stones long ago prophesied. Well, I've wandered far, I've wondered why. I don't mind the outside, whenever the sun it shines, I don't mind the outside, whenever the sun it shines...
7.
Maine 04:25
I've been considering the state of Maine. Out of city walls, bridges, end gates. These streets, well, they get to me, pavement and painted lines. Lights and times they direct me, but all I want is the midnight and lakeside. Watch the white owl, night time flights, don't need much, just stars in my skies. Old quarry lakes, with their cold waters down deep inside. Was a misty morning wake, unseen sun in a slow rise. Watch the white owl, night time flights, don't need much, just stars in my skies. Find an empty island. Seat yourself looking out. Our hands their raw from digging, our hearts out of the ground. Watch the white owl, night time flights, don't need much, just stars in my skies.
8.
My window is open and a winter breeze is coming in, and I'm cold, cold cold. Well I've been thinking of you, and wondering how you've been. Oh these days I'm running thin, I'm running thin... There are sailboats on the east river still. And they float, float, float, under bridges made of stone and steel. Oh how people they come and go, they come and go... There are three stars in the sky. That's many for this time of night, as the skyline lights and workers rise and come and go, and I will go...
9.
So, as today, the rest of the year. A place to hear coyotes call, and where there's a river and a sinkhole to fall. I give my debts to those that I owe: calls to my mother, writings to my lover, and a fate that I gave away a long time ago. Open, brown plains, pass by the window, I watch in vain. A tree, here or there, oh that night, you played without a care. Maybe that's the answer, the words, the music and the stage. I've always loved the ocean and nightingale songs trees root then blossom, oh with you is where I belong. I give my debts to those that I owe: calls to my mother, writings to my lover, and a fate that I gave away a long time ago.
10.
Remains 05:06
The river grows wide, breaks down the hillside. What will remain? What will remain? Your heart is made of strings. Fine, delicate, sweet tunings I'll play them right, I'll learn it in time. I'll play them right, I'll learn it in time. Gather sticks and stones, build steady fires, if he hadn't gone we'd have lived different lives. He spoke of honest men, warned of the liars, do good or you're wrong, work each day 'til your tired. Live it right. I've been a dreamer my whole life. They say I'm like him, they say I'm like him. And if you paint the lines, I'll play mine. What will remain? What will remain? Gather sticks and stones, build steady fires, if he hadn't gone we'd have lived different lives. He spoke of honest men, warned of the liars, do good or you're wrong, work each day 'til your tired.
11.
Morning 03:56
I see him walking by, I don’t know him, he doesn’t know my mind. We’ve all got our stories, our interests and our lines. Pockets filled with glories, secrets behind our eyes. Always, somewhere it’s morning. Someone’s rising with the dawn. Life and love without fair warning. Catch it all before it’s gone. The northern lights they’re shining. Have you seen the midnight sun? Outside a small, cliffed city, take my hand and let’s run. Always, somewhere it’s morning. Someone’s rising with the dawn. Life and love without fair warning. Catch it all before it’s gone. Oh, my dear by the southern seas, your summer’s gone when mine’s arrived. Faded moon in my afternoon skies, on your side it is night. Always, somewhere it’s morning. Someone’s rising with the dawn. Life and love without fair warning. Catch it all before it’s gone.

about

I have an obsession with old books. I love how they look, feel, and smell. On a bookshelf in my parent's farmhouse, I discovered a book called 'Bedford Village' by Hervey Allen. The closest town to our farm is Bedford, I had my doubts on the contents of this book I thought it would be a poorly written settlement story, but I was wrong. Within seconds I was pulled in by the writing. The first sentence happens to be the title of this album.

Here are a few lines from the beginning of the book:
Always, somewhere, it is morning. That bright streak of dawn extending from the arctic to the antarctic, the glittering boundary between day and night on this whirling sphere of ours, is always there. Dawn is not an isolated event renewed every day. It is a continuous astronomical performance.
...Wink at eternity, if you must, for winking is an involuntary human gesture - and you will not find the chance even in a lifetime to do much more than that about eternity - but whatever you do, keep both points of view firmly in mind; the eternal, and the timely one. They both exist, and they exist simultaneously. Combine them, or else you will understand very little of anything that is going on...

These songs were written between 2010 and 2013. They are about places and people and sights and feelings and how I see and live in this world.

credits

released June 1, 2014

This album was recorded and mixed in Brooklyn, NY at Rola Pola Studios on South 11th Street by Andy Baldwin.

Mastering by Brian Lele at Santa Cecilia Sound in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

All songs written by Kendy Gable

Vocals and Guitars - Kendy Gable
Back-up Vocals and Piano - Caitlin Becker
Upright Bass - Adam Chilenski
Violin and Egg Shaker - Andy Baldwin
Peddle Steel - Travis Rosenberg
Trumpet - Josh Peck

Thank you...
To all my Kickstarter supporters this wouldn't have been possible without you, you believed in me and in music and for that I will always be grateful; to the many great musicians with whom I've had the honor of playing with around the world; the Melodica family, Free Advice, Elliot Rayman, Zach Tremblay, David Kean, Mike Savino, and Joey Pratt; to Jordan McIntyre of The Crumpled Press; to Tad Fettig for the guidance and gift of film clips; to everyone at Paper Swan Loft you are indomitable; to Emily Klass for her beautiful artwork; to Dave Cook, Heidi Custer, and Michael Corle for supporting my ideas as well as my music; to friends who have come to every show possible and have given me strength and confidence: Jenny Schneider, Dani Zylberberg, Katrina Pratt, Lance Schronenberg & Melody Litwin; to Ryan Watson for seeing more in me than I ever could; to Andy Baldwin for all of the magic and love he put into this album; to Caitlin Becker and Adam Chilenski it is an honor to make music with you; to my family, especially Mom, Dad, Aaron, Amy, Bella, Blaire, Nana and Don your love and support is everything, without you there wouldn't be any music coming from me. And thank you to those who dream and to those who love with the fullest of hearts...what an honor it is to get to sing to you.

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Kendy Gable Berlin, Germany

'Learn this from the waters, listen to your own soul, you might follow others, but only you can find your way home.'

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