'Saint Devil'
When setting out to write and record "San Diablo" I wanted to make an album that exhibits the spectrum of humanities greatest attributes and darkest secrets. Something that shows our capacity for love, clarity, and generosity and our instances of jealousy, hatred, and fear. The journey to bring this all together relied on the efforts and support of a multitude of people. Whether the album is embraced by millions or heard by nobody, the treasure I take away from working on this project was the time I was able to spend with all of them in getting it together. I can't thank them enough.
I hope you enjoy the record.
-Addam Scott
Producer:
Abel Grey
Mastered by: Brandon Gass
Musicians:
Scott Cambridge - Cigar Box Guitar, Ukelele
Gordie Germaine - Acoustic/Electric Guitar, Tenor Guitar
Tony Hundtoft - Drums
Warren Kaye - Stand-Up Bass
Jeremy Long - Piano, Pedal Steel, Accordian, Lap Steel, Acoustic Guitar
Jarod Sheahan - Piano
Mike Stave - Fiddle/Violin
Abel Grey - Bass, Organ, Percussion
Addam Scott - Harmonica
Guest Vocals:
Celina Sater on "She's at Church, He's at the Bar"
Justin Hodak on "Jesus at the Holiday Inn"
Female Background Vocals performed by "The Cashiers"
Jennifer Bigler
Carrie Harrison
Celina Sater
Additional Background Vocals:
Marinn Sater
Elyse Seder
Lisa Stevens
Scott Cambridge
Justin Hodak
Abel Grey
Addam Scott
Recorded at SCLA Productions and Tadashi's House
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"Good News" Written by Addam Scott
I need some good news
Some easy living like I choose
A fishing boat and some cold brews
And I'd just drift away
I'm laying in the dark with dreams and whiskey
The Power's been shut off since yesterday
My woman left and said she's never miss me
And it's seven days or more till I get paid
The ghost of Lady Luck hitched a ride on some old truck
She's heading down to Mexico they say
I need some good news
Some easy living like I choose
A fishing boat and some cold brews
I'd be drifting away
I need some good news
Some easy living like I choose
Cast it off in the deep blue
Till I just drift away
I punch in at that clock most every morning
And I keep my head down while I earn my pay
And I shut my mouth 'cause I'm fresh out of warnings
And dream of nights I'll roll out on the bay
Drop a couple lines and watch the whole world drift behind
I swear to God I won't be back someday
I need some good news
Some easy living like I choose
A fishing boat and some cold brews
I'd be drifting away
I need some good news
Some easy living like I choose
Cast it off in the deep blue
Till I just drift away
Just give me some of that old Kentucky Whiskey
An old lawn chair and a sun that always shines
Oh Lord, if you're looking for some way to assist me
You can find a way to give me back my time
I need some good news
Some easy living like I choose
A fishing boat and some cold brews
I'd be drifting away
I need some good news
Some easy living like I choose
Cast it off in the deep blue
Till I just drift away
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"California" Written by Addam ScottI got a four-bit haircut on the radio
And I’m grinding teeth to hug that yellow line
A thousand miles behind me with this cruel unholy ghost
I wonder just how long I’ll hold my mind
I chopped some lines in Houston and they got me through to Hatch
I wonder just how long I’ll push today
It’s just one more pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes
And one more dark and lonesome old highway
Take me home to California or I’ll wither up and die
The Devils at my back here on the road
They call it occupation, but it's more like suicide
When you’re heading East with no damned where to go.
Just a sad machine of flesh, steel and bone
Dropped and topped in Long Beach where I pulled out off the road
Down at one and up again at five
Ten o' clock means Phoenix so I stop to check the load
Seven lizards ask to take a ride
Now every screaming gear sings like a banshee in the night
They terrorize the darkness to the day
It’s just one more pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes
And one more dark and lonesome old highway
Take me home to California or I’ll wither up and die
The Devils at my back here on the road
They call it occupation, but it's more like suicide
When you’re heading East with no damned where to go.
Just a sad machine of flesh, steel and bone
I could've been a preacher, I could have been a saint
I could have chose a different world to know
But I won't waste my breath on all the things in life I ain't
I'm just a fallen angel of the road
So take me home. Take me home.
From Davenport to Denver singing 'Rocky Mountain High'
Take the 95 to Searchlight where the scales are always closed
Push that pedal down and hold on tight
We're all just chrome and rubber burning through the night
Take me home to California or I’ll wither up and die
The Devils at my back here on the road
They call it occupation, but it's more like suicide
When you’re heading East with no damned where to go.
Just a sad machine of flesh, steel and bone
They call it occupation, but it's more like suicide
When you’re heading East with no damned where to go.
Just a sad machine of flesh, steel and bone
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"Runnin' to the Ground" Written by Addam Scott
Gordie Germaine - Acoustic/Electric Guitar, Tenor Guitar
Tony Hundtoft - Drums
Warren Kaye - Stand-Up Bass
Jeremy Long - Piano, Pedal Steel
Mike Stave - Fiddle/Violin
Abel Grey - Organ, Percussion
Every day I miss the way you'd sing
I've been tying up the loose ends I gave little Cass your ring
Cause I feel like cold dishwater tumbling down our kitchen sink
So you might see me sooner than you’d think
Heaven help me ask I take this road
It' the only one back home... Back home
I’m running to the ground
The place they laid you down
The ticket’s free and I hope you're glad to see me
They say you're in a better place so leaving here is easy
So I can be right there in case you need me
I made myself some dry toast and drink
Bound to cross the great divide as I drift off to sleep
And I’ll leave this sad old world behind to sift through it’s debris
Oh darlin’ I’m just glad that we get free
I’m running to the ground
The place they laid you down
The ticket’s free and I hope you're glad to see me
They say you're in a better place so leaving here is easy
So I can be right there in case you need me
I can't wait to hold you there again
Drifting off to darkness as we make it through the end
Dancing on the dark side of the moon
One last breath and I'll be with you soon
Oh, I’m running to the ground
The place they laid you down
The ticket’s free and I hope you're glad to see me
They say you're in a better place so leaving here is easy
So I can be right there in case you need me
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"All I know" Written by Addam Scott
Jeremy Long - Pedal Steel, Lap Steel, Acoustic Guitar
Abel Grey - Bass, Organ, Percussion
I once believed in Jesus
I once believed in hell
I still believe I just might make something of my old self
I might believe a million things
They might all be untrue
But all I know for sure is loving you
At one time I was dying
At one time I was cursed
I couldn’t see the simple truth in all each day was worth
And every day just faded
Like regrets and old tattoos
But all I know for sure is loving you
All I know for sure is loving you
All I thought of love was taking prisoners
And wondering who was gaining from the score
Now I wonder how the hell I’ve outlived all my sins
And if they even matter anymore
I might believe a million things
They might all be untrue
But all I know for sure is loving you
Darling, all I know for sure is loving you
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"She's in Church, He's at the Bar" Written by Addam Scott
Featuring Celina Sater
Gordie Germaine - Acoustic/Electric Guitar, Tenor Guitar
Tony Hundtoft - Drums
Warren Kaye - Stand-Up Bass
Jeremy Long - Piano, Pedal Steel
Mike Stave - Fiddle/Violin
Abel Grey - Organ, Percussion
+She's in church
*He's at the bar
+*If it's Sunday Morning, you know where we are
+I don't get drunk and mess around. I just never been that way
*And if the preacher don't watch his hands he'll have hell to pay
+I traded all my wisdom for a shot of foolish pride
+And I can't deny the fact that I've been stoned
+I drank so much damn whiskey that you feared for my poor life
+But if I'm alive you know I'm coming home
+She's in church
*He's at the bar
+*If it's Sunday Morning, you know where we are
+I don't get drunk and mess around. I just never been that way
*And if the preacher don't watch his hands he'll have hell to pay
*I might sing in the bars until the amber morning light
*I might place my faith in angels in the sky
*But when I'm coming home and got a hunger in my eyes
*I got needs that just my man can satisfy
+She's in church
*He's at the bar
+*If it's Sunday Morning, you know where we are
+I don't get drunk and mess around. I just never been that way
*And if the preacher don't watch his hands he'll have hell to pay
+The church folks call me "sinner"
*The bar folks call me "prude"
+*I guess jealousy must help them pass the time
+*But we'll just keep on living with what's served us till today
+*Seems to me it's working out just fine
+She's in church
*He's at the bar
+*If it's Sunday Morning, you know where we are
+I don't get drunk and mess around. I just never been that way
*And if the preacher don't watch his hands he'll have hell to pay
+*And if the preacher don't watch his hands he'll have hell to pay
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"Gallows" Written by Addam Scott and Brian De Den
Gordie Germaine - Acoustic/Electric Guitar, Tenor Guitar
Tony Hundtoft - Drums
Warren Kaye - Stand-Up Bass
Jeremy Long - Piano, Pedal Steel, Accordian
Mike Stave - Fiddle/Violin
Abel Grey - Percussion
He came into town through El Paso
With a suitcase he’d filled in Juarez
Looking to make his connection
With some of the Sinaloa men
On long sleepless nights he’d get high to get by
Wide awake for his trip home again
And to swear on his life he’d return to his wife
He’d become a Vaquero instead
But promises fade like a memory
When the time comes to pay out the rent
He’d take one last trip to El Norte
And run with the devils again
His poor wife would plead that he’d stay home
She’d heard whispered that Gallardo’s men
Were searching for mules in them brown water pools
Of the River he’d cross from Juarez
And they swing from the gallows,
As the noose holds its grip on their throats.
They all swing from the gallows,
At the end of the old Calderon’s rope.
With her warning unheard and unheeded
He left cross that old riverbed
They found him just South of El Paso
Throat slit by Gallardo’s command
Now his wife drinks just to fight back the dreams
Of her lover layin’ cold in the sand
And joins in the widows of men left behind
En la fila el muerte, Juarez
And they swing from the gallows,
As the noose holds its grip on their throats.
They all swing from the gallows,
At the end of the old Calderon’s rope.
And the blessed Gabachos don’t bother
As long as there’s cheap coke around
They just keep to their course, pay no mind to the source
After all they’re just dead wetbacks piled on the ground.
And they swing from the gallows,
As the noose holds its grip on their throats.
They all swing from the gallows,
At the end of the old Calderon’s rope.
Cocaine in the mourning, whiskey in the night.
I’ve been cursing God to let him know I’m still alive
When I’m gone and you look on the trouble in my life
Darlin, Promise you won’t say I didn’t try.
Cocaine days and whiskey drinking nights.
When the morning comes she brings them old familiar shakes
From drinking to much whiskey and staying out too late
I chop a couple lines and all my trembles fade away
And a couple more to make it through the day.
When the evening comes my mind’s still running hard and fast
I grab myself a bottle and that old familiar glass
Half an hour later and I’m far too drunk to stand
Asking why the world don’t love a drinkin man
Boy, does this old world just love a drinkin man
Must be this cocaine in the mourning, whiskey in the night.
I’ve been cursing God to let him know I’m still alive
When I’m gone and you look on the trouble in my life
Darlin, Promise you won’t say I didn’t try.
Cocaine days and whiskey drinking nights.
I wish I had a pill for every bad call that I’ve made
I wish I had a bottle for this soul I couldn’t save
And one for every time that right and wrong all seemed the same
Then I’d smile for the time I killed the pain
Hell yeah I’d smile for the time I killed the pain
Cocaine in the mourning, whiskey in the night.
I’ve been cursing God to let him know I’m still alive
When I’m gone and you look on the trouble in my life
Darlin, Promise you won’t say I didn’t try.
Cocaine days and whiskey drinking nights.
It's that old familiar feeling. Like I'm digging my own grave
Spinning, staring at the ceiling
Promising tomorrow night won't end up just the same
Praying for a soul that can't be saved
Cocaine in the mourning, whiskey in the night.
I’ve been cursing God to let him know I’m still alive
When I’m gone and you look on the trouble in my life
Darlin, Promise you won’t say I didn’t try.
Cocaine days and whiskey drinking nights.
Darling as you know the doctor gave me sugar
To sprinkle on my violent wearied brain
In hopes that all that sweetness might get carried to my heart
And suffocate this cold un-feeling rage
And I don’t mean to beg
But it’s setting in, in ways that make me strange
So darlin’ don’t walk out on me till morning
Surely left alone I just won’t make it through the night
I'm searching for some calm in all the storming
I promise not to touch you
I just need you by my side
Is there nothing I can say that might convince you?
And chase the trembling wary from your eyes?
I may not be myself, so I need somebody else
To remind me how to feel and what it means to be alive
And I don’t mean to beg
But I need you in an unfamiliar way
So darlin’ don’t walk out on me till morning
Surely left alone I just won’t make it through the night
I'm searching for some calm in all the storming
I promise not to touch you
I just need you by my side
I’ll give you every thing you’ll ever want or need in time
Just ask me once I’ll make it worth the stay
Cause I’ve loved you every moment since the day I came alive
And I’ll love you till I'm sunken in my shallow lonesome grave.
So darlin’ don’t walk out on me till morning
Surely left alone I just won’t make it through the night
I'm searching for some calm in all the storming
I promise not to touch you
I just need you by my side
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"Jesus at the Holiday Inn" Written by Addam Scott
Featuring Justin Hodak as Jesus
Jeremy Long - Pedal Steel, Lap Steel, Acoustic Guitar
Abel Grey - Bass, Organ, Percussion
He said his name was Jesus and he said he'd be my friend
With heartbreak in my eyes and doubled over, wearing thin
I swallowed every pill they had and I told him all my sins
He said "Son this place ain't heaven, but I can promise you'll get in."
We were outside smiking cigarettes and standing in the rain
The nurses cam prepared to fight, the same as every day
He's say "All I did was speak of love and they said I was insane."
Shut your mouth my brother or they'll tie you down again
And he'd say "Oh, Oh, oh, I love you so.
Can't you see the world you're living in?
All the folks that come to see me
They don't see what they believe in.
Can you blame me much for heading home again?"
Jesus, he was crying as he read the daily news
In there he saw a preacher and his congregation too
They sang out "Burn the wicked faggots for the sinful life they choose"
He said "father judge the preachers not, they know not what they do."
And he said "Oh, Oh, oh, I love them so.
Can't they see the world they're living in?
All the folks that come to see me
They don't see what they believe in.
Can you blame me much for heading home again?
Can you blame me much for heading home again?"
The last time that I saw him he was standing on a chair
With a rope around his neck and eyes that sang out soft despair
He said "Son, that cross was heavy but this is more than I can bear."
I said my last goodbyes as he was swinging in the air
Now I say "Oh, Oh, oh, I loved him so.
Can you see the world you're living in?"
All the folks that come to see me
They don't see what I believe in.
I can't blame him much for heading home again
No, I don't blame him much for heading home again
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"Pour Another Strong One" Written by Addam Scott
Gordie Germaine - Acoustic/Electric Guitar, Tenor Guitar
Tony Hundtoft - Drums
Warren Kaye - Stand-Up Bass
Jeremy Long - Piano, Pedal Steel, Accordian
Mike Stave - Fiddle/Violin
I know it don’t seem right, I’m at the bars most every night
Where every shot glass stands like tombstones in a row.
And every song that I’ve been pickins getting’ more and more to stickin
When I think about the bed I left so cold
Smokey bars, old guitars, jealous hearts and crooked cards
Became the only life I’d ever choose to know
So pour another strong one,
And burn one down real nice and slow
Looks like it’s gonna be a long one
And I can’t wait to get back home
When the bar is warm and smoking, high as all the local tokin’
It’s the closest thing to church I’ll ever know.
All the priests and drunken saints, with nothing more in life to gain
Drown their memories in shots and lines of blow
Smokey bars, old guitars, jealous hearts and crooked cards
Became the only life I’d ever choose to know
So pour another strong one,
And burn one down real nice and slow
Looks like it’s gonna be a long one
And I can’t wait to get back home
And though I know I’ve lost my mind
And left my only love behind
Sittin, drinking myself blind
I’ll still be here at closing time
I left my baby back in Cali
I left my songs out on the road
And all the while I get to thinking
I gotta get myself back home
So pour another strong one,
And burn one down real nice and slow
Looks like it’s gonna be a long one
And I can’t wait to get back home