Album Notes for "Four With Forest"

My son Forest (1972-2008) and I did a lot of home recording together for a couple of years in the early century. Yeah, it was a special time for us. Forest played piano, keyboards, percussion (on whatever was at hand), and that excellent bass. Oh, he also sang his ass off in the background.
I've taken the digital recorder we used into studios to clean up the sound. Some of our work is on "Texas Socialist Infiltration Dance Songs" and now I've a digital release called "Four With Forest." I went to the fine Elephonic Studios in Albuquerque and worked with Jesse Korman on these four songs. Hear the full songs here at CD Baby The EP opens with "Williwas," a song inspired by the famous Southeastern Alaska winds and crab fishing. Hey check it out below. I'd like the song to appear on The Deadliest Catch; that'd be nice. If it does I'll owe a lot to Forest's keyboard riffs. "Gale winds 40 knots, still pullin' crab pots. Captain calls all the shots; he's dry, we're not. Willie was."

The second song is "That's Why I'm So Shook" with Forest at his honky-tonk finest. "I don't need your thoughtlessness; I've grown cold to your hard caress."

I wrote "I Didn't See You" right after my first trip to Alaska on a state ferry, the Wickersham. Dig Forest's bass line and Hammond organ. "Maybe you were in a bar in New York City or loving Louisiana living with a Bourbon Street high. Maybe you were on that same boat with me, and I passed with a far-away look in my eye."
"In the End" resonates today in ways I wish it did not, but in the end, we lost Forest and all that good music he never got to play.
It's up on Spotify, CD Baby and all the usual suspects.

Album Notes for "Texas Dance Songs"

I miss the mere size of old lp records with pictures you can see and notes on the back you don't have to unfold and squint at. These are the album notes for my CD I call "Texas Dance Songs."
Every third of July as I grew up I watched my Uncle Joe Dunn play his fiddle and lead a band of Dunns through some fine old songs and hymns. When the '60s Folk Boom hit I was primed to learn guitar and when I heard Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan - well it was all over. I was twelve and I taught myself to play, but of course I had been playing violin since the fourth grade so I thank the Amarillo, Texas Public School District for teaching me to read music.
...
Well, in 2011, my wife Rosemary encouraged me to go to Austin and see if I could get something going. I found the open mic at the Cheatham Street Warehouse run by the great Kent Finlay. He had a studio, the Woodshed, and could get you any backup musician you needed. It all depended on how much you could pay the player. Rosemary was eager to pay for a record. I thought that if I could get some recognition I could bring my son's songs to the attention of the world.
I thought I'd get a country band sound complete with fiddle and steel guitar, but then I heard Big John Mills play an acoustic set at Cheatham Street. My God, what a talent! Kent's son Sterling is a fine upright bass man. I thought about one of my favorite old records - Gordon Lightfoot's first album. It's all Gordon singing and playing guitar, a lead guitar, and an upright bass, so that's how we did it. I even copied Gordon by having one song that was just bass and voice - "Pack Rat Nest." Sterling and I did that in one take.
I was determined to play ensemble style, not lay down track by track. The first song we recorded was "Cockroach Fever."  Nailed it in two takes. I labeled it as explicit when I listed it with CD Baby which I wish I hadn't done especially because if you see the album on Amazon they have every single song labeled "explicit." My favorite cousin, a strict Southern Baptist loves it so it sure ain't dirty.
As that first day sailed along we recorded most of what became "Texas Dance Songs" and several of the songs on "Texas Socialist Infiltration Dance Songs." I was mighty proud that I kept up with Big John and Sterling. We clicked. Late in the session we were playing some song and my mind drifted into how amazing it sounded and - I fucked it up. After that I bowed out for two songs. I had lyrics and chords written out. I played a few bars of each song to give them the idea and then they played. What came out was beautiful, but it wasn't those two songs anymore so I put them on the back burner.  After Big John and Sterling left I laid down my guitar part for Rosemary's two favorites - "I Never Waltzed With You" and "In Our Dance" - because I was afraid I wouldn't capture the lilt of those two songs in the ensemble setting.
The second day we finished up. Then Big John laid down electric lead parts on some songs that Forest and I had recorded around 2000. 'Round and 'Round is one of those. More on that when I write notes on "Texas Socialist Dance Songs."
It had been a prolific session. I was happier than I had been for a long time.
Next year, 2012, was also a prolific year. I wrote seven new songs in a month or so. After recording that album (Contrary) I sat in a motel room and wrote four chord progressions using the common chords from the diatonic scale - major, minor, minor, major, major, minor, diminished. It was an exercise for old three chord Burl. I asked Big John to play those chords but didn't specify how. Then Johnny Arredondo added drums. I was so amazed with the results that I offered Big John the chance to own half of the copyright and performance rights in exchange for free work later. I tried to offer that twice, but each time, before I even got the whole concept of the deal out of my mouth he turned it down. It makes me think of all those guys going to the California Gold Rush (me) who went broke and the one who set up a supply store (Big John) and made fortunes. The two best of these songs are on Texas Dance Songs: "Top Down" and "Just Us Chickens."
 All my albums can be heard on Spotify and some other online stations. All my albums can be downloaded from iTunes, amazon, CD Baby and others.  I go by my middle name, Burl, because if you google "Burl Dunn" it's easy to find. Try it! Thanks.

In the End

Weird, but I can ‘confess’ things on my blog that I don’t talk about to people in person. Every blog I write gets some readers; always the readers include people from outside the US. That’s a lot of what keeps me posting.

Weird, but I remember once, around 1970, telling a fellow that I wish I could be a musician without having to perform in public. I wanted to record and release albums, but not perform in public. He said, “That’s weird.” Yes, it is, but here I am doing it. Yet, (don’t think I’m ignorant) the thing that allowed me to fulfill my dream, the internet, also is so full of stuff that it doesn’t register near as much as if I had, say, become a hit in my hometown, Amarillo, Texas.

Yet, I know a woman, Judith Nelson, Judith Nelson Clark- Judy Clark as I knew her back in the ‘60s, who was a hit in Amarillo, who almost got a song accepted by none other than Roy Orbison, who had a song (I Just Dropped By to See the Show) recorded my Marcia Ball, and yet who never “made it.” Weird. Oh dear, I just googled her old band, the Last Chance Band, and see that there is a band from Maine with that name, and the first reference to Judy and her Texas bros was from one of my blogs. Weird.

Don’t think I don’t know that the only reason I have so many sites that carry my name is because the ‘cloud’ is cheap. I carry on because “you can’t win the lottery if you don’t buy a ticket.” My dream, at this point, is that someone, somewhere, someday will discover a song and that that ‘someone’ has connections – maybe a song placement in a TV show or a movie or …

I still dream about finally overcoming my performance anxieties and making a mark in some city, but it’s kinda hard to think it’ll happen. I’m 64. “Will you still need me, will you still feed me …” Why should you? I never stood in your food line. Well, not very often.

If one is autistic or has Asperger Syndrome, or whatever the hell helped me hide, I’d recommend you not to pursue music as a career. But what do you do if you don’t know yourself well enough, and you fall in love with the idea of ‘making it’ in a world that requires more social interaction than you are capable of? Are you simply fucked? Oh no, not necessarily. I wouldn’t trade my musical adventure for the ‘straight life.’ The adventure was very much in my own head, but that doesn’t mean it was wasted time or foolish. I’ve lived a life. Most of my young adventures were tied to work – on the Bering Sea on a fish processing ship, in Chicago and Florida as a race horse groom, to name two big adventures. And there were those young days when I could smoke a joint that would fuel four or more hours of guitar improvisations.

At this point, if I were to come into money, I’d want it to be for my children and my grandson, Forest William. The hardest thing to kick, and it must be kicked, is the desire to “prove myself” and to seek recognition. I’m over the fame thing (kinda), but not the desire for recognition – and there lies the rub. You can’t count on recognition, but you can count on the journey being interesting and rewarding. Mine has been.
                                      ****************************************
When I listen to my son's first big production, 1972 AND YOU, I hear an awful lot of the history of pop. Pop became Forest's thing. I bought him a Taxi subscription the last year of his life. Taxi is a service that posts stuff that's said to be directly from the film/movie/recording companies. So the posts give the description. I'll make up a typical listing:
Needed. A song a la Ricky Nelson about breaking up. Company will buy performance rights so only submit completely orchestrated songs.
Yeah. I tried it and the feedback always said I was off base. Forest got feed back like
         You really nailed it. That's exactly what the description said. 
But he never got anything placed
I'm not bringing this up as directly relating to the song posted below. I'm telling you that he had moments of experience, of the musical life, that are the real deal. He lived a life. When he wanted something he couldn't do (he played bass, drums sometimes, rhythm guitar, vocals, any keyboard) he posted a note on a bulletin board at U of A in Tucson. He did this for saxophone and classical guitar. I need to tell the names of those guys some day, but I can say this - Rick Moe played drums until he went to New York City, and Forest's beautiful wife Jessi sang real good. Yep.
I'll get to work with CD Baby on Forest's album "1972 and You."

For now, here is a song, In the End, I recorded with my late son Forest Arturo Dunn. Forest never had a piano lesson. He was simply gifted. Forest is playing and singing everything that's not me and a Martin. Forest did his thing in no time. This came from his "hitting the woodshed" on so many multi-track recordings.

This song was written in honor of my wife Rosemary; there is no one else like her in this world; one does not need to ask Rosemary, "Are you a Christian?" She is a woman of works, not words.

My great grandfather was a great exporter, he took a load of syphilis out of Italy...

Sins of our fathers. In Adams fall, we sinned, all. This song has been misinterpreted as a complaint. Oh, no. It’s a statement of fact.

When my son Forest Arturo Dunn (middle name for Toscanini) recorded with me, I think for him it was a way to make up to me. He had little to make up, but the last time I left him, his mom, and his sisters he was in high school. He challenged me, “old man,” to fight him. It was one of the several times in my life I let my ego go. I just stood and looked at him. I thought, “This is really the end. He hates me. His mother hates me.” I made no threatening moves and we did not fight, thank God.

Oh, those sins of our fathers. I remember once when I was small and had a new bike, my Dad took me to Sam Houston Park in Amarillo, Texas. I took off riding. Dad was sitting on a bench. The park had many sidewalk paths and I went around and around. Very soon I realized I didn’t know where my father was. Unknown to him, I was not riding ‘round and ‘round enjoying my new bike. I was looking for my Daddy.  He told me later that I rode past him several times and he thought I was having fun. He should have said something as I rode past, no? My father was a depressed man. I was an depressed man. Damn it, this nature/nurture thing ain’t easy, huh?

The mother of my children and I had one hell of a rocky marriage. I was always leaving and coming back. I never, ever failed to send money. No child support needed to be demanded from me. Those times I left Frances after we had children, I sent money home. I used to be angry when I heard men talk about not sending money to their children. In my mind, I was a superior father because I paid. Dads, let me tell you if you don’t know. Sending money has no emotional impact on your children. It doesn’t count. What counts to them is that Mommy is ALWAYS there. The money won’t count when it comes to winning their love. To win their love you’ve got to BE THERE.

On this song, as usual, I play guitar and sing. Forest plays a 12 string guitar for lead, organ, bass, percussion, and sings harmony. This song has not been sweetened in a studio, but it comes through. I wrote this around 1973 when Forest was a baby.

Music of Forest Arturo Dunn and Burl Dunn - part 2 - Williwas

My son Forest Arturo Dunn had a fine guitar teacher in Amarillo, Texas named Frank Hardcastle. At Glendale High in Arizona he had one of those outstanding band and orchestra teachers whose name escapes me and I can't find online. This man got Forest playing a sousaphone in marching band, upright bass in orchestra, and electric bass in jazz band. The lessons and schooling topped off a natural talent that exploded when Forest began recording his own songs on computer.

There is no praise too high for a school district in a city that funds music education. I'm not sure Forest would have finished high school without that incentive. He would have had these chances in his beloved Amarillo, Texas, too had we stayed there. I almost added, ‘as we should have,’ but there are few things that can tear up one’s mind better than the “would’a, should’a, could’a” thing. It’s harmful enough, but if you do it over a lost child it can drive you to suicide.

In the wake of Robin William’s death, no one needs reminding that money and talent, children and a wife are no guarantors of happiness. I’m not hinting that Forest committed suicide or that he did not. There are some things that hurt too much to pursue. I’ve only asked his older sister and his widow. It was a drug overdose. No note. I’ll stop there to avoid causing pain in my children, his widow, or his mother in case they read this.

Forest began multi track recording right after high school on a Teac four track cassette recorder I gave him. By the time he worked with me on some songs he really knew his stuff. I’ve put together some pictures and my song Williwas for you. Forest is playing a cheesy keyboard and singing. He never in his life had a piano lesson. Willie Was is based upon my experiences on the Bering Sea and Bristol Bay in Alaska. Forest was conceived in a cabin in the woods near Juneau, yes in a forest.

Forest Arturo Dunn, a great Musician

Forest Arturo Dunn of Amarillo, Texas, Glendale, Arizona, and Tucson, Arizona was my boy. Forest was the musician I always wanted to be. (He died in 2008.)  He learned instruments quickly. He performed in large venues such as Club Congress in Tucson. He was in bands. He could record albums in which he played all the instruments. He was sociable and could fit in with any group of people whether or not he was totally comfortable.

For two years I could not control my pain and anger very well. I learned that keening is something that naturally occurs when one cries long and hard enough and that sometimes the only thing that can make a person stop crying is the pain in one’s face.

After those two years of misery it took another couple of years before I could even look at his pictures without breaking up. Only this year did I begin to remember moments spent with him without misery. Now I can have a pleasant memory, but they all end with a tug at my heart. That’s okay.

This is the start of perhaps a number of blogs in which I wish to keep his music alive. So my main goal is to celebrate his talent and the fine music he left behind.

Here is a picture of him in his last year of life.

Do you see pain in his eyes? I do. You know it reminds me of the look in Robin William’s eyes in so many pictures. Here are some pictures of Forest taken a few months before he died. We were at my parent’s house for Thanksgiving and he asked his sister Sarah Rene Sharon Dunn to take some shots. It is my belief that, as he posed, he knew he was making memories for us because he knew he was going to die. 

I am going to take his widow’s advice and “just do it,” that is put his music out as I have been doing with my own. Right now what I have that is internet-ready is music he made with me, some of which is available on my albums “Texas Dance Songs” and “Texas Socialist Infiltration Dance Songs.”  Please give a listen to Bar Talk. 


We recorded Bar Talk on an early model Roland digital recorder. I took it with me to the Woodshed Studios in San Marcos, Texas and had Big John Mills add a rocking telecaster lead. You can hear Forest on bass and Hammond organ. The drummer was his great friend Rick Moe. This story is incredible to me – Forest played the song on guitar to Rick to give him the idea. Then he somehow communicated silently with Rick as Rick played that drum part FIRST with no other music playing! Yes, Rick Moe laid down the drum track with nothing to listen to! What kind of talent is that! After laying down bass and organ Forest had me play acoustic guitar and sing my song.

Once when I was at my job Forest laid down bass, percussion, piano, and back up vocals on a song he hadn’t even heard since he was a little boy! I came home and played and sang my part to a perfect arrangement. I won’t be sharing that song and a lot of others because the recording quality was not up to snuff. Why? Well, this digital recorder used a zip drive and, at the highest quality level only held a few minutes of music if you overdubbed. And, man, Forest overdubbed the hell out of songs! And all the hype about digital quality turned out to be bullshit – as tracks were bounced around sound quality went down with each bounce. We had to bounce because the machine only had eight tracks and Forest used many tracks for background vocals, so those songs are for family.

Here is a song I wrote in Nashville when I was a teenager. The album cover was Forest’s creation. Forest is on organ, bass, and piano. Big John Mills added the tele part in San Marcos. This song is also on “Texas Socialist Dance Songs” so obviously the album is not all politics. I just couldn’t resist the title when it occurred to me. (Burl is my middle name. "Larry" is too common a name so I dropped it.)

Well, there is an intro to my son. Remember him, please.  Forest Arturo Dunn.

album notes for "Texas Dance Songs"

I miss the mere size of old lp records with pictures you can see and notes on the back you don't have to unfold and squint at. These are the album notes for my CD I call "Texas Dance Songs."
Every third of July as I grew up I watched my Uncle Joe Dunn play his fiddle and lead a band of Dunns through some fine old songs and hymns. When the '60s Folk Boom hit I was primed to learn guitar and when I heard Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan - well it was all over. I was twelve and I taught myself to play, but of course I had been playing violin since the fourth grade so I thank the Amarillo, Texas Public School District for teaching me to read music.
...
Well, in 2011, my wife Rosemary encouraged me to go to Austin and see if I could get something going. I found the open mic at the Cheatham Street Warehouse run by the great Kent Finlay. He had a studio, the Woodshed, and could get you any backup musician you needed. It all depended on how much you could pay the player. Rosemary was eager to pay for a record. I thought that if I could get some recognition I could bring my son's songs to the attention of the world.
I thought I'd get a country band sound complete with fiddle and steel guitar, but then I heard Big John Mills play an acoustic set at Cheatham Street. My God, what a talent! Kent's son Sterling is a fine upright bass man. I thought about one of my favorite old records - Gordon Lightfoot's first album. It's all Gordon singing and playing guitar, a lead guitar, and an upright bass, so that's how we did it. I even copied Gordon by having one song that was just bass and voice - "Pack Rat Nest." Sterling and I did that in one take.
I was determined to play ensemble style, not lay down track by track. The first song we recorded was "Cockroach Fever."  Nailed it in two takes. I labeled it as explicit when I listed it with CD Baby which I wish I hadn't done especially because if you see the album on Amazon they have every single song labeled "explicit." My favorite cousin, a strict Southern Baptist loves it so it sure ain't dirty.
As that first day sailed along we recorded most of what became "Texas Dance Songs" and several of the songs on "Texas Socialist Infiltration Dance Songs." I was mighty proud that I kept up with Big John and Sterling. We clicked. Late in the session we were playing some song and my mind drifted into how amazing it sounded and - I fucked it up. After that I bowed out for two songs. I had lyrics and chords written out. I played a few bars of each song to give them the idea and then they played. What came out was beautiful, but it wasn't those two songs anymore so I put them on the back burner.  After Big John and Sterling left I laid down my guitar part for Rosemary's two favorites - "I Never Waltzed With You" and "In Our Dance" - because I was afraid I wouldn't capture the lilt of those two songs in the ensemble setting.
The second day we finished up. Then Big John laid down electric lead parts on some songs that Forest and I had recorded around 2000. 'Round and 'Round is one of those. More on that when I write notes on "Texas Socialist Dance Songs."
It had been a prolific session. I was happier than I had been for a long time.
Next year, 2012, was also a prolific year. I wrote seven new songs in a month or so. After recording that album (Contrary) I sat in a motel room and wrote four chord progressions using the common chords from the diatonic scale - major, minor, minor, major, major, minor, diminished. It was an exercise for old three chord Burl. I asked Big John to play those chords but didn't specify how. Then Johnny Arredondo added drums. I was so amazed with the results that I offered Big John the chance to own half of the copyright and performance rights in exchange for free work later. I tried to offer that twice, but each time, before I even got the whole concept of the deal out of my mouth he turned it down. It makes me think of all those guys going to the California Gold Rush (me) who went broke and the one who set up a supply store (Big John) and made fortunes. The two best of these songs are on Texas Dance Songs: "Top Down" and "Just Us Chickens."
 All my albums can be heard on Spotify and some other online stations. All my albums can be downloaded from iTunes, amazon, CD Baby and others.  I go by my middle name, Burl, because if you google "Burl Dunn" it's easy to find. Try it! Thanks.