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Join singer/songwriter Bobby Angel around the campfire for songs and story-telling. | Our hosts | Our venues | Our topics

Big Cypress Bound
With emphasis on the word "bound"

At the time I thought I was on my way …

But looking back maybe I was stuck.

Listen to Big Cypress Bound

Fittingly, this albums and the songs were written and published in what would, at the time, unknowingly be my final days in the tranquil yet tainted paradise of the Big Cypress Swamp.

In a departure from my first two albums, these songs evoke a sense of a place that is neither here nor there, but rather everywhere — and inescapable.

Or was I in the midst of a major escape act?

All is revealed in the final song.

As for my fourth act (i.e. album)?

Making three albums was a major milestone. To me, with its release, I’d made it, much like Nick Drake. Or is that a curse? After all, the third was also his last. Thus begging the question: After over a year without playing a song, will there be a fourth?

My guess on that is that you never know and I wouldn’t rule anything out.

The Green Album
Like the White Album, but green

Is there anything harder …

Than following up a hit opening act?

Listen to The Green Album

After an intense and prolonged period of songwriting – often deep in nature, in areas that have yet to be mapped, and sometimes but not always by a campfire – I am finally nearing completion of my second studio album. It’s theme? Much like my first album New Pangaea it strikes deep in the heart of what the Before Phones Movement (BPM) is all about.

Unlike New Pangaea, my second album takes on thornier topics that many other songwriters would shun due to their complexity and controversial nature. For example, with The Lusitania, I believe I official and forever knock the Titanic (including the movie, and quite possibly the soundtrack – although I’d love to collaborate with Celine Dion) off the top spot and elevate the sinking of the Lusitania as the most tragic and memorable maritime disaster of the past 200 years. Why? Because it’s also an antiwar protest song. Even more subtly, another song on the album – Old Jim Dill – recounts the personal devastation wrought by the Great War, also know as the War To End All Wars, or just WWI and how he, at least partly, overcame it by finding comfort in a nature retreat.

But I digress …

Tentatively, in our studio sessions, we’ve been referring to the album as simply “The Green Album,” although that may yet change. Other names being batted around include PreservedThe Blue Album (long story), Green on Green, and To All My Fans, With Love, Bobby Angel.

People often ask me: “Bobby Angel, what’s your favorite thing about your second album?” My answer is always and unequivocally the same:

Performing the songs to connect their meaning to others. And also, I must admit. I’m kind of itching to do a third album. So it feels good have the second one done, or almost done. As much as I’m an “ad hoc go with the flow” type of guy, I’m equal parts a finisher, too. That’s my secret to songwriting. Get it done and then move on. The longer a song sits the more it starts to lose its original intent. Songs in their truest form capture a moment and just flow.

Bobby Angel

A “moment catcher” is what a good song is.

At least that’s my theory (for now).

Forgotten forest
fondly remembered, only too late

It’s the type of forest …

Nobody cares about until it’s gone.

Ugliest Forest, the Song

And if we’ve seen it once we’ve all seen in a thousand times. It’s that patch of trees that looks pretty enough, although it may be infested with invasive trees, and littered with trash. And no it’s never that big patch of woods, just a remnant of a larger contiguous mass or woods that got gobbled up by housing developments of various types.

Ugliest Forest, the Interview

Why and how that patch of woods escaped development is anyone’s guess. Maybe it got held up in a real estate dispute, or maybe the owner was holding out for a higher price, or maybe the zoning laws were still being hashed out. Whatever the case, the patch of woods survived, and even thrived as judged by the birds and the bunnies and the mice (and maybe even a bobcat). And then just like that, in move the bulldozers

And the woods are gone.