I turned 25 last year and had a somewhat exaggerated realization: I haven’t done anything in a quarter century. I haven’t accomplished anything artistically. I haven’t helped anyone I care about. I have accomplished nothing. So I asked my friend Ron Grieco if he wanted to start a record label. He accepted and Barn Burner Records was born.
A few months later I remember we texted my friend Steve Layman and said, “who’s putting out your next record?” He shyly replied, “I’m not popular enough for anyone to be interested in releasing one of my records, but maybe some day. Why do you ask?”
Last week we put up pre-orders for a record that has my quarter-life crisis’s logo stamped on the back. Last week we helped a kid with nothing but passion and brutal honesty show the world what he’s got. If you’ve got a few pennies to rub together, I urge you to check out the following link and order a vinyl record that Steve sweat and bled into and that we went all in on.
Kind words from my best friend about my new record. If you haven’t picked up a copy, check it out.
If you still haven’t listened to my full length…well….
Steve Layman & Broken Field Runner
10/26/13 | SUNY Oneonta
w/ The Mezingers & Dirtpope
New(ish) song. I played this one a few times on tour, but this a track that will be on my next record called. It’s called “Lightning”, and it’s about love and girls and shit not working out in anyone’s favor. If you like what you hear, spread it around with a reblog or whatever. Thanks for listening.
I’ve spent too many nights standing in a field with kite & key
Waiting for lightning to fall like the stars in the sky
Through the black clouds rolling by.
Well, it struck fast and hard. With a kiss on the cheek or your hand
on my heart.
Before I had an instant to forget, I captured that shining moment
In a mason jar.
I keep it by my bedside, it keeps me sleeping at night.
I dream of us and a better life in that fading yellow light.
If I had a nickel for every time someone like you told me “Maybe” or
I could make every wishing well from here to Manhattan
Shine like a silver sea.
I told you through a letter that I love you.
You told me through a phone you never saw the words I wrote.
You said “We aren’t the lucky ones who get what they want.
That one night is all there was.”
The jar by my bedside, it keeps me up at night.
It’s just a keepsake that I can’t keep you in that fleeting yellow light.
If you think you’re better off on your own, I’ll leave you that way.
While you light up the sky in the city, hear what I say.
I know better than most the best way to grow is alone.
Sharing your progress with another is the best feeling I’ve ever known.
Dance with the shadows if you want to, remember why you dance at all.