The whole album is, in many ways, a love letter to the working class and “Menauhant” is a good example of this. It’s a long-form, narrative song and explores the ups and downs in the life of a working guy in Falmouth, MA. It is not autobiographical but I drew heavily from my life. I also drew from my experiences as a visitor to the Cape (I’m not from there, I’m 100% a tourist when I visit, even though Falmouth is just an hour away). In spite of having recently finished a masters degree, I’ve been a blue collar worker all my life (carpenter, cook, mover, waiter the list goes on) and I’m interested in the stories of working people. Studs Turkel’s “Working” has a place of honor on my bookshelf. And if you visit a Cape beach around 4PM (quittin’ time for the trades) you’ll find a handful of guys sitting in their trucks, gazing out at the water – I started to wonder about their lives. 

 

I also got interested in the cedar shingles on Cape Cod houses. My friends out there explained that they aren’t just beautiful, they’re important in a town with such heavy salt and moisture in the air. Cedar is one of the few woods that can stand up to those elements without deteriorating. So I wrote a story about a guy who works in cedar shingles. Which I have absolutely never done.

 

The love story also draws from my life, the elements of class difference, of love and loss. “When they finally said goodbye, she kissed him softly on the eye and whispered “why’s it always better at the end? You were cedar, I was wine / it’s a matter of design / that a hammer’s gonna break what doesn’t bend.” That sentiment is very personal to me, I’ve lived those things but in a different skin than this couple.

 

And lastly there’s the thread of “taking a chance” that permeates the song. A boy drops out of school to find work and support the family (this happened in the generation before me); the guy takes a chance in making an overture to her and she takes a chance on a guy who’s very different from her; they both take a chance in moving on from each other sand at the end “he dropped his hammer in the sand / he cried with all the windows closed / and headed for the open road”…he decided to try something new with his life. I like taking chances. Making this record was a huge chance. It’s my first studio record and I went into all kinds of debt to do it. The song may, in some way, be a metaphor for that. And lastly, I’m a huge Springsteen fan – I’ve always loved his songs about working people (down bound train, highway patrolman, Atlantic city and 100 more) and while I wasn’t consciously trying to emulate him, at this point there’s a handful of artists I can’t avoid pilfering from (Ben Harper, Ani Difranco, Jason Isbell, Woody Guthrie, Chris Sand, Jay-Z, Kris Delmhorst, Dylan to name a few more.)

 

 

My producer, Colin Fleming, has his fingerprints on every aspect of this album and this song is no exception. It was recorded at three different studios – Herd in Roxbury (which closed in the middle of our recording process), Keep the Edge in Quincy and finally Q Division in Davis. We wanted a sort of beach vibe to mirror the lyrics but wanted to avoid anything cheesy. I mean Margaritaville is great and all but it’s not what I had in mind. The bones of it were already good – Kelly Jo’s perfect harmonies, Pat’s unexpected and brilliant bass line and my slappy acoustic part. Producer Colin also plays drums on the record (they’re mind-blowingly good) and his understated stick work lifted this tune up nicely. Then we layered about 3 different styles of lead guitar from Tory Geismar (of Ripe band fame) which adds all kinds of nuance and energy and emotion. If you listen you’ll get the airy faux slide (he did this on individual strings on an arch top in standard tuning), the country twang (it’s not exactly a country song so I tried to keep this at ‘just a hint’) and some more traditional licks – they’re all very tasty. Last came keys from Brooks Milgate on a beat-up Fender Rhodes (I was so lucky to have him on about half of the record) which added that last little missing element.

 

One concern we had was about the length  – it’s the second longest track on the album and its long form storytelling. As a songwriter sometimes I feel like every song should be a million verses (shelter from the storm comes to mind) but you run the risk of the listener getting bored…this song has been a fan favorite so I wasn’t that worried, but I was cognizant that it might start to sound monotonous. Here again, Colin found ways to build and break down the verses so the recurring melodies stayed fresh and allowed the listener to live inside the the story. Before recording, Colin and I sat down and reorganized several of the songs – eliminated verses, rearranged chorus/bridge orders – but this song just wouldn’t submit to change. So it stayed exactly as I wrote it. 

 

I wrote on my lunch break at work actually, it came to me while I was driving in my F350, just after we had come back from a summer trip to Falmouth. My wife’s aunt and uncle inherited a place there and we’re lucky enough to get to stay there for a week every summer. Menauhant beach is the closest beach to that house. It’s not the nicest beach in Falmouth by a long shot, but it’s got a lot of personality and it winds sweetly around the shore. The shoals, the seaside goldenrod I sing about, that’s all there. There’s a great little inlet just opposite the beach where my 5 year old likes to catch crabs. The song’s also a tribute, in that way.