The Lost Gunslinger
Imagine the sound of hitting a forest service road at 45 miles an hour with the windows down, blasting the latest bass-heavy, breaks-inflected remix of the latest lady-vocals pop track, scaring the wildlife and pissing off the nature nerds as you skid through the corners and give your wrists tendinitis from trying to keep control of the wheel. And when you get home, you're blowing black dirt out of your nose, your ears are still ringing, and the only thing on your mind is getting back out there with a new set of tunes to find a new road you've never driven before. But in the meantime, take that -- make it into music.
Dirt, asphalt, engine oil, cow shit, lost hubcaps, the ascending-stopping-ascending-stopping rumble of your car shifting gears, mountain air, pine sap, diesel, roadkill, snow, washboard thundering under your wheels, big skies, glaciers, gulches, mine tailings, forest fires, the rattle of trains passing through in the dark of night, bottoming out, taking that curve too fast and making it anyway, the rapid dat-dat-dat of the ABS kicking in on ice, wondering if you should turn around or just keep going and deciding to just keep going, cattle drives on the highway, dry heat, dry cold, boulders, gravel, and the remnants of frontier vigilante culture...
Told you I'm ambitious.