"Never seem to find the time to call / On the fence the grass is growing tall / Whiskey fills an ocean in my heart / Gets deeper every time we fall apart..."
The misty eyed cowboy sway of "Whiskey Bitters", by Atlanta's Mystic Toad, is, at once, (to me) magical and organically grounded in folk, Americana, western noir, cowboy and even hints of Ranchera music. Conceptually / artistically romantic and surprisingly emotionally heavy, it speaks to me in the way that iconic ostensibly 70's broadly folk artists did. A deeply existential relationship song, the lyrics speak simply but the truth of those lyrics can burn you as well. Deeply relatable, heart wrenchingly human, Mystic Toad's (singer songwriter David Grzedzinski) vocal countenance feels earnestly so endearing and tortured as Zach Runquist's plaintive fiddle playing. It is a perfect songwriter's song, truly up there with the likes of Jackson Browne or the Flying Burrito Brothers or The Eagles.
LINER NOTES:
"This song was written during a period of time when I was contemplating the complicated nature of relationships, especially those with parental figures, and how we often turn into our parents without realizing it's even happening." - mystic toad
Lyrics:
Never seem to find the time to call
On the fence the grass is growing tall
Whiskey fills an ocean in my heart
Gets deeper every time we fall apart
We're just doing what we have to do
Guess I'm turning into you
Leaves are piling up beside the road
I walk outside and button up my coat
Anger leaves a shadow on my soul
And I'm sorry for the times I lost control
But my heart keeps running wild
Ever since I was a child
I just have to be true
All I know I've learned from you
Always trying harder to be strong
Prove yourself to earn your father's love
Heaven knows we won't be here too long
And whiskey bitters make the sweetest songs
On the fence the grass is growing tall
Whiskey fills an ocean in my heart
Gets deeper every time we fall apart
We're just doing what we have to do
Guess I'm turning into you
Leaves are piling up beside the road
I walk outside and button up my coat
Anger leaves a shadow on my soul
And I'm sorry for the times I lost control
But my heart keeps running wild
Ever since I was a child
I just have to be true
All I know I've learned from you
Always trying harder to be strong
Prove yourself to earn your father's love
Heaven knows we won't be here too long
And whiskey bitters make the sweetest songs
[This is a concept EP based on a night spent at the Lost Palms Hotel - a mysterious little shack off on the side of some lost dusty highway.]
-Robb Donker Curtius
THE FACTS AS WE KNOW THEM
https://www.instagram.com/mystictoad___/
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
I would not change it.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
I would not change it.
Mystic Toad, singer songwriter David Grzedzinski, folk, Americana, western noir, cowboy, country, "Whiskey Bitters", New EP "A Night at the Lost Palms Hotel", heavy emotional, romantic, personal song,
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