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  1. Pratt Hollow

From the recording High Crimes and Misty Mornings

Written 2002
Recorded 2013
Tommy Diehl ~ Drums
Danny Bernini ~ Engineering Drums & Mixing
Paul Rocha ~ All other Schtuff
Pete Keppler ~ Mastering

Lyrics

PRATT HOLLOW

Don’t go down to Pratt Hollow anymore
You might not find exactly what you’re looking for
There are demons by the dozen and secrets by the score
Don’t go down to Pratt Hollow anymore

Don’t go up on Bald Mountain any time soon
The only friend you might find up there is Emmitt Boone
Old Emmitt went out walking, that was back in June
Don’t go up on Bald Mountain any time soon

I live up in the forest where it turns out long ago
Someone said to someone, “What this place needs is a road.”
Fish don’t troll savannahs and giraffes don’t sky the seas
And the fate of man is in his hands should he walk amongst the beast

I live up in the forest where it turns out long ago
Someone said to someone, “What this place needs is a road.”
Fish don’t troll savannahs and giraffes don’t sky the seas
And the fate of man is in his hands should he wander as he please

Don’t you wander on down to Shedville all alone
Where angels dare not labor and the jackal howls and moans
There are stories round the campfire turn your hair as white as bone
Don’t you catch yourself down in Shedville all alone

Don’t go down to Pratt Hollow anymore
You might not find exactly what you’re looking for
There are demons by the dozen and secrets by the score
Don’t go down to Pratt Hollow anymore
Don’t go down to Pratt Hollow anymore
Don’t go down to Pratt Hollow anymore
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WRITING: I wrote this in the early 2000s up in Northfield, MA. I bought a little bungalow on the top of a mountain,moved up there with my gal at the time, just up the road from Pratt Hollow Road. I knew I was going to use that in a song as soon as I saw the name. My property looked up at a mountain range that was called Bald Mountain. At some point after driving around exploring, I came upon a dead end street that looked like the kind of place that could disappear you, no questions asked. The road ended and you didn’t realize that you were now on somebody’s property. I quickly turned around and got out of there. I was a bit concerned. Nailed to a tree in front of the place was a sloppily spray-painted plywood sign that just said “SHEDVILLE”. I wrote the song over the course of about 10 years. There was never anything sinister about Pratt Hollow, Bald Mountain, or even Shedville, for that matter. I just felt like writing a song about forbidden places. But the forbidden was really about the wild.

I was acutely aware of the fact that my street, Gulf Road, was just an interruption over a mountain and through a forest with a house in every 1000 feet, or so. I felt in some ways like we didn’t belong there. Let the animals have that. My house was originally a hunting cabin built in 1900 and over time, telescoped into a very humble and cozy bungalow. It was beautiful up there. Walking around the yard in the early morning, drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette, I felt like I was on top of the world. Bald Mountain was really something, quite imposing. And I did live among the beasts. Going out to my truck to go to work in the pitch dark at 3:30 in the morning after having left it up at the top of the driveway 200 feet away. I used to hear animals out there, and you couldn't see anything on some nights. I literally used to growl. I’m lucky I wasn’t eaten by a bear. I didn’t finish the third verse until sometime in 2011 or ’12.

RECORDING: I began recording this in January 2013 in Warren. One of the first things I recorded here in the mill. It’s got a good instrumental track. It’s all there. Good bones. Tight double-tracked acoustic guitar solo came out well. Second or third song I started on my own with Pro Tools, I think. A decent recording. I got lucky.