Western Stars

Western Stars is a 13-song meditation

on the struggle between individual freedom

and communal life.

There are two sides of the American character.

One is transient, restless, solitary.

But the other is collective and communal,

in search of family, deep roots,

and a home for the heart to reside.

These two sides rub up against one another,

always and forever

in everyday American life.

The barn.

We've got a 100-year-old barn on our property

built in the late 1800s,

and the hayloft is simply a spiritual space.

It has a high cathedral ceiling

that used to be packed with enough winter hay

to reach from the floor to the roof.

Since we've had the place,

we've held barn dances, weddings,

harvest parties up there.

So it's a space filled with the best kind of ghosts and spirits.

When we knew we were going to filmWestern Stars,

due to the instrumentation, I knew we'd need some place

that could fit a 30-piece orchestra.

Our barn is a structure that speaks to you.

Its natural beauty,

the artistry of its construction,

the aged wood.

It's like a fine instrument itself.

And it sounds good.

It's just got soul.

So for a few days,

we got to play for a few friends

and entertain the horses down below.

So come on in,

'cause we're about to start our tale

with a man just standing by the roadside.

To having a great time.

Cars.

This is my 19th album

and I'm still writing about cars.

Writing about the people in 'em, anyway.

Why? I don't know.

I guess the car remains a powerful metaphor for me.

We still live a lot of our lives

here in America in cars...

just trying to get from one place to another,

from one place to another.

Now, I suppose 40 years ago,

they were a potent metaphor for open roads, freedom.

Today, not so much.

At best, they're a metaphor for movement.

When we're in a car, we can feel like

we're always moving forward,

over the rise, around the bend,

into the future.

It can settle the spirit sometimes.

But are we moving forward?

A lot of the time, we're just moving.

Come on!

Come on, Charlie!

Change.

How do you change yourself?

I've spent my 10,000 hours, and then some,

learning my musical craft.

But I've spent a lot more time than that,

some 35 years, trying to learn how to let go

of the destructive parts of my character.

They did not go easily into that good night.

For a long time, if I loved you

and if I felt a deep attachment to you,

I would hurt you if I could.

It was a sin,

and I still have days when I struggle with it.

But I've gotten better.

Through the love of my family,

my good friends, I've learned how to love.

And to be compassionate with those close to me,

and to try and live with some small honor.

"Tucson Train" is about a guy

who's trying to follow his better angels,

working in the sun for a new start.

He's trying to change.

One, two,

one, two, three, four.

Western Stars is the heart of the record.

It was my reference point

when I was searching for who my character was

and where he, I, was headed.

You've got a fading Western film star

watching the world change around him.

Watching it pass him by.

He's left doing Viagra commercials,

and weekend rodeoing in the desert,

east of Los Angeles,

with some Mexicancharros

who've come across la frontera.

He lives in the Hollywood Hills,

frequents LA watering holes,

where he's the oldest guy in the room.

But he's still got an inner compass

that doesn't allow him to bullshit himself.

He knows exactly who he is, what he's done,

the good, the bad and the ugly of it.

It's his small redemption...

and he's made a relative peace with himself.

He's losing old friends quickly,

a lot of empty boots.

But he wakes up in the morning,

glad that his are still on.