March 12, 1999
Living is a form of not being sure, not knowing what next or how. The moment you know, you begin to die a little. The artist never entirely knows. We guess. We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark. - Agnes De Mille

I remember the first stroke: cobalt blue, a diagonal stroke on a rectangular three-by-four-foot canvas. I burst into tears when I made it. - Pia Stern

Now if you asked me where I'd rather be, I'd say nowhere. - Karin Bergquist

Hello friends,
It's obvious I don't know where to begin or you would have heard from me long before now.

I lived for a long time on the top floor of an old brick building on Main Street downtown, and now in this old house I do most of my work here in the attic. I'm assuming all of these words would be different if I was hunkered down in the corner of the basement. But up here I look out and see the tops of the houses and chimneys and parts of trees high up, bare branches interlaced like bloodvessels, veins very still against the face of the sky as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to make the first move. For some reason there are a lot of cardinals in this neighborhood and they sit there like the tip of God's paintbrush, smug in their uselessness. What are we supposed to do with all this red?

How have you all been? When I think of you I remember that I know you and that I don't. Many of us will never meet but somehow I miss you anyway. Somehow I know that when you brush up against some obscure joy, I feel it a little bit too. And when you come to grips with the phantom pangs that are part of this free ride - this free ride that ends up giving us more than we can ever repay, more than we know how to handle - this free ride for which we bought no ticket - I mean we sloshed around in our Mothers' womb and laid there in our cribs and we didn't even know we were riding yet - well, somehow when you ache in that inside place for which we have no name, I feel it a little bit too. I guess I took the long way to say, Fine I hope. (Why do I hope you're fine? Because when you do something good, that makes it easier for me.)

I'm assuming that some of you are still regularly talking to each other. I don't know if it's a relief to you to know that I haven't checked in on your conversations for a long, long time. But I have a dilemma that I would like you to discuss and then after y'all express yourselves, I think I'm going to get somebody to print out your words to see if you can shed any new light on the subject at hand.

The dilemma is this. I have come to a place in my life where writing and recording music is the most tangible or physical way that I give a little something to the world and I learn a little something in the meanwhile. For years I have thought of what I do as running a vegetable stand. It's sort of a family-run business (we're not a chain or a franchise) and people have to go a bit out of their way to come and get what we offer. Because we're a vegetable stand and not a hypermarket, we try to put a little extra care into what we give people, keep things fresh, organic, and the scenery is arguably a little richer out here.

From time to time people have come in and assured us that they can take this vegetable stand and turn it into a multi-national success story. Running the vegetable stand is a lot of work, and some years get a little lean - you know, maybe there's an early frost or whatever and the roof of the barn needs repaired. So it's always interesting to hear what these people have to say, and we try to listen. But inevitably, while people sit around conference tables brainstorming about how Over the Rhine's next record could sell three million copies, weeks and months go by, and we begin to think, gee, we could have put out a couple of records of our own just in the time it took for this famous label to decide O.K. we are now officially interested in talking about the possibility of definitely working together as soon as we get through this merger that frankly might mean we're all out of a job in a few months so that's great news lets go spend $800 on dinner and have a good time.

The short version is this. If you were me and you were at a point that you knew you could make a record with a big budget and a producer that would get released in the next 18 months or so, and then you would promote that record for a few years and if you were successful, do it all over again and maybe make a lot of money and have a couple songs on the radio et cetera, et cetera, or you could take care of the vegetable stand, put out two or three records a year that sounded unmistakably like your own records and could make a comfortable but modest living, what would you do? I'm curious. Remember, the vegetable stand means no significant media exposure, no grammy, no "Florida girls with fluorescent tits" listening to your song on the modern rock station coming out of the boom box by the sand volleyball net. (Sorry, I'm quoting Karin again.)

I'll be eavesdropping.

Oh those crazy Canadians are trying to lure Karin and I out for another seven weeks this summer. I don't know. Touring with Cowboy Junkies was a great experience for us. So many firsts. Life on a tour bus, poking around Letterman's cold studio, touring from Whistler, British Columbia to Perth, Australia. From London, England to Montreal, Quebec to Santa Fe, New Mexico and all over North America really. We're definitely still adjusting to civilian life. But will we take that tunnel to Canada one more time?

Rhinelanders, I promised myself I would hold off on sending out the final Northern Spy etcetera, until we had finalized plans for the next few years. Perhaps it was another gloriously ill-fated decision which contributes yet again to the thorny path you all have traveled hoping for your twenty bucks worth. But within the next few months we'll be deciding whether to go with a Capitol-Records-type-deal or whether to continue with our own imprint with distribution, or? I'll inform you all of rumours of movie soundtracks and other sizzling industry tidbits in that Northern Spy.

Meanwhile, in the next few weeks we'll be performing three different times as a trio (Karin, Linford and Jack Henderson). We opened for the Junkies with this line-up at a sold-out show at Royal Festival Hall in London and enjoyed ourselves. And we got to meet Elvis Costello in New Zealand who was touring as a duo with Steve Nieve. We were inspired to try something a little more naked musically. It wasn't possible for all the musicians we've been playing with as a six-piece to join us for these three shows, so we're going to let you peer in this different window with us. The full band should be playing later this year and we'll let you know more details soon.

P.S. We've had a problem keeping up with orders for Good Dog Bad Dog. We ran out of stock at the end of December and we're expecting a large shipment in the next few weeks. Just thought you might like to know.

Can't Wait,
Linford for Over the Rhine

March 17, 1999
Hello again,
I just realized when I handed my handwritten scribbles to Stacie the other day, I missed a page. So here are a few additional words.

When I got back from all that travelling with Cowboy Junkies early this February, I sat down over the course of a week or so and recorded a collection of solo piano pieces, songs without words that have been goin' round in my head for quite sometime. It's already been mastered, and we'll be making this CD available later this Spring. The quiet revolution continues...

Over the Rhine on the other hand has so much new music. It's almost overwhelming. (That's why this concept of releasing a record for a big label every two or three years is a little puzzling.) There are currently four projects that are taking shape (from which we would draw material for a major label release) and we have a recording studio set up again here in the attic of the Grey Ghost which we are growing very fond of. So brace yourselves for more joyful turmoil. One way or another we're going to be getting some of this music into your hands even if I have to meet you somewhere with a handbag and a lantern. June 30 will find us either moving forward with a major label or beginning the process of releasing our own work. (Your votes and outcries and discerning admonitions and cheerleading routines have started pouring in. WOW. Thanks.)

Our sincere apologies and thanks to the many, many people who have over the last months expressed their disappointment regarding our absence at The Emery and elsewhere this past December. We missed seeing you all so much. We had a rare opportunity to do some recording that we really couldn't pass up, and again, hopefully you can hear the results someday. (We are definitely planning a December Tour this year.)

Finally, here are the trio dates reiterated. Tell some compatriots. We're mostly announcing these by E-Mail so they do have a bit of a secret quality. They are the first Over the Rhine shows since early July of last year, without the benefit of various Canadians taunting us from the wings (in an endearing way.)

March 31, 1999
Hello again,
I've set the timer for five minutes. The days are full beyond measure. Spring.

Thanks again to all of you who sent words regarding our future. I will respond at length soon. It was heartening to find out just how much this curious adventure means to all of us. It's certainly a story without an ending. We make it up as we go, each day a page of paper.

This Spring, as we keep the lines of communication open with those who have expressed a desire to sign Over the Rhine, we are going to continue recording and playing some scattered dates. Nobody knows exactly what will happen when we all get together at these whimsically earnest musical shindigs, and I suppose that is why we all keep coming back. Here are a few confirmed dates that I know of so far.

Brady's Cafe, Kent, Ohio, Friday, April 23, 330.673.6060, Tickets $8 in advance. $10 day of show
Bogarts, Cincinnati, Ohio, Friday, April 30, 513.218.8400, Tickets $12 in advance. $14 day of show. Available through Ticketmaster, Friday, April 2.

(Saturday morning Rhinelanders are welcome to get Brunch at Kaldi's Coffeehouse and Bookstore at 1204 Main Street. They open at 10am. Karin and I are going to wander down for coffee and hellos at about 11am. We'd like to give Kaldi's an idea of how many to expect, so please e-mail Stacie ASAP at OTRhine@aol.com if you plan to be there.)

Schubas, Chicago, IL, Saturday, June 5, Two shows: 7:00pm ALL ages, 10:00pm (approx) 21 & over, Tickets $10 in advance. $12 day of show. (Available thru Schubas Website www.schubas.com or 773.525.2508.)
Peabody's Down Under, Cleveland, OH, Sunday, June 6, Tickets $8 in advance, $10 day of show.
The Ark, Ann Arbor, MI, Friday, June 18, Tickets $10 in advance, $12 day of show.

It was good seeing your faces in Dayton and Nashville. I think of a good song as something that lives and breathes. I think of musicians that I have shared the stage with as people who know how to dress up a song in endearing clothing. But playing as a trio without a rhythm section is almost more about undressing a song: it's a little embarrassing but flirtatious and at times a means of falling all over again. But we'll be inviting a few more people back on stage in the near future, believe me.

Finally, if you saw the X-Files this past Sunday, you might have chuckled when somebody walked on and said, "My name is Detweiler." But you surely must have raised an eyebrow when Fox Mulder went looking for someone named Karin Berquist who was unusually fond of dogs. We were certainly in shock. We knew that this was the second episode written by a friend of ours, Jeff Bell, but we had no idea he was capable of this kind of tomfoolery.

To make a long story shorter, Karin has been obsessed for quite a number of years with the X-files, not to mention David Duchovny. When we sat and talked to Jeff last Fall outside Royce Hall at UCLA after opening for the Junkies, Karin jokingly pleaded for an opportunity to die in Mulder's arms with something exploding out of her chest. Well, it didn't quite happen just like that, but much of the episode was filled with inside jokes about this "Karin Berquist" who was "enamored of" Fox Mulder, obsessed with dogs et cetera. The original script did have the character "Karin Berquist" die in Fox's arms, but the scene didn't make the final cut. Instead, the Detweiler character took a stake through the heart after pushing Karin by the throat through a second story window, but that's neither here nor there. (Jeff Bell wrote and directed the video "Happy With Myself" for us and in the space of a few days helped put together the "Serpents and Gloves" interviews and so forth, back in 1994 after we recorded "Eve".)

Stacie said quite a few people had e-mailed saying, what is up?! That's pretty much all I know. Jeff Bell did plant the seed for naming our fourth record Good Dog Bad Dog, because he flew his Weimaraner, Zoe, from California to Cincinnati for the video shoot. He carried two pictures of her in his wallet. One was "Good Dog", the other, "Bad Dog." Karin loves Zoe, as she does all dogs. You can figure the rest out. (There are a couple of hints at this in the episode as well.)

The timer went off a long time ago, but more soon. I do want to try to send more words your way this year. I hope this is a good thing.

Peace,
Linford for Over the Rhine

April 21, 1999
Hello,
I'm up here in the attic again in the morning. If you were sitting here, I would hit you with a barrage of possibilities and watch your face.

God bless you what is this? We will be releasing two CD's at the Bogarts show this April 30 here in Cincinnati. The first is called "Amateur Shortwave Radio". A music journalist phoned a few weeks back and reminded me that this is the ten year anniversary of Over the Rhine. Sure enough, we recorded the first half of 'Til We Have Faces in the spring of 1989, so I couldn't argue. Of course we felt we needed to throw a little party, open a good bottle of wine, do a little dance around the kitchen. This new record draws together under one roof a unique and curious sampling of what you would have heard (and did hear) if you walked into a room during an Over the Rhine performance back in the earliest days of the group through just a few weeks ago at Canal Street Tavern in Dayton. It documents some extremely rare and mildly embarrassing but undeniably exuberant early quartet renditions as well as good clean versions of songs such as Moth, Anyway and I Will Remember, which feature the six-piece version of the band (with Mike Georgin on bass...) There's a track with the Northern Kentucky Symphony that we re-mixed and mastered which is gloriously schamaltzy and full of chirping crickets and a recent reworking by the original quartet of Over the Rhine's first ever cover tune. It's a record full of smiles and tears and you're probably on it too. And it's a record that confirms for me that yeah, I would definitely do it all over again.

The second CD we're releasing is called "I Don't Think There's No Need To Bring Nothin'." It's the collection of eleven solo piano tunes I referred to earlier, the simplest recordings I've ever made. Of course, in both CD's there are notes which I wrote - as if life were study hall and you were the shy girl three seats up on the left.

At least we haven't been sitting around doing whatever it is people do who sit around doing nothing.

Incidentally, the Bogarts show will consist of the sassy six-piece. Niki Buehrig, formerly of Plow On Boy will be opening. It's been over two years since Niki has stepped up to a microphone in public with her acoustic guitar here in Cincinnati. If you've heard her, then you already know she's one of the region's rare musical treasures. Hope you can join us and look for a few surprises.

This Friday, April 23, we'll be performing as a trio with Jack at Brady's Café in Kent, Ohio. One of the friendliest rooms in the universe... We ain't rehearsin', so look out. (Of course, Thursday, we'll be sneakin' around the Hartville Flea Market.)

Finally, in response to the E-Mails we received regarding our future with the (changing) music industry, let me say Thank You. I would say about 20% of you said definitely go with the vegetable stand, it's great. About 20% said go with the big offer, it's a no-brainer, this is a rare opportunity, don't trifle with the American Dream. Most of you said listen carefully to your heart. Take risks, venture into the unknown but only if you can keep your spirit intact. Go for the biggest audience possible, but don't let anybody make you something you're not. (And yes, it would sure be nice to have easier access to your recordings.)

A coupla comments: the record industry is an overstuffed man in a three-piece suit wobbling around on stilts right now. There's going to be a lot of change in the next ten years. Our ability to anticipate some of those changes will allow us to keep making records for a living or not. That being said, I do absolutely want to reach the largest, widest audience I can (with spirit intact.) The question is can I ultimately reach more people as an independent, or with a major label? If a musician ever pretends that he or she makes records and gets up on stage with the hope of being ignored, well, it ain't so.

Also, if I make a record and ANYBODY likes it, I'm grateful. If it so happens that Florida beach girls love "All I Need Is Everything", that is fantastic. But it gets weird when the people at a big label start second guessing how to get the Florida girls or anybody else on your side before you record note one. If an artist ever thinks his or her work is too good for someone who genuinely appreciates it, that's a bit sick.

So what's going on? Our manager is currently negotiating a deal with Capitol for us. When they make us their best offer, we'll consider it. If it makes more sense for us to keep putting out our own records, there are a number of smaller companies such as Rykodisc that would be interested in distributing those records nationally for us while allowing us to retain 110% control over everything. And along with this distribution we could continue operating the virtual vegetable stand and ultimately own all our recordings.

In the meanwhile, we're going to be putting out records that we like hand-over-fist. We're beginning our next full-length recording May 7. Karin and I are going to take a five-week break to tour as members of Cowboy Junkies for their summer tour this July, and then mix the record when we get back in August. I for one can't wait to hear it. And as for us, come on you Florida girls, come one, come all.

Thanks for listening. Hope you can make the shindig.

Peace,
Linford

May 5,1999
Hello everyone,
My sister Frances in San Francisco has a birthday today. All together now, "Happy Birthday Frances!"

Thanks to all of you who were part of the 900-plus folks who slipped into Bogart's the other night. We had big running-over buckets of fun sloshing that music all over each other, having the wind knocked out of us, wringing wet on the inside with bittersweet joy. You are good to us. Thanks again for ten unpredictable, rewarding years. Happy anniversary honey.

Do y'all like this music or what? Stacie basically blew through the first 1000 copies of Amateur Shortwave Radio in two days trying to fill your orders and now we have to sit around for a week waiting for the second (and larger) batch to arrive so she can continue. Give that Stacie some encouragement. She's barefoot in the office with an incessantly ringing phone, faxes, e-mails, a box of solo piano records on one arm, a conductor's baton in the other, a sharp pencil behind each ear and somehow she's the calm in the midst of the storm. It's amazing. It may take several weeks, but believe me, she's gonna take care of you, your order is in good hands.

We'll be doing four shows in June with a flashy formidable five-piece: Karin Bergquist, Brain Kelley, G. Jack Henderson, David LaBruyere and yours truly. We hope to do a big outdoor show in late August with everybody. More on that later.

The June shows are:
Saturday, June 5, Schubas, Chicago, IL. (2 shows)
Sunday, June 6, Peabody's Down Under, Cleveland, OH.
Friday, June 18, The Ark, Ann Arbor, MI.
Saturday, June 19, Canal Street, Dayton, OH.

The gathering at Kaldi's Saturday morning was gloriously serene. Three endearing people showed up and Karin and I had breakfast with them and also chatted with Katie Laur and other friends at Kaldi's and then Jack, David, Brian and Mallory wandered in and we drank too much coffee, tired and happy. Three people! Life is good.

Bon Courage,
Linford

July 26, 1999
Hello,
Karin and I just got to spend a day at home, a blazing hot Sunday in Ohio. (A friend of mine, Eric King, recently described this weather as "hotter than a Deuteronomy based sermon at a summer holiness camp meeting revival.")

As most of you know, Karin and I have been touring as members of Cowboy Junkies for their Summer Waltz tour. I hope a few of you have had the chance to join us. We have enjoyed ourselves immensely. There are a few dates remaining:

Monday, July 26, The Vogue Theatre, Indianapolis, IN (317.254.2028)
Tuesday, July 27, Ravinia Pavilion, Highland Park, IL (Near Chicago: 847.266.5000) Leo Kottke opens.
Wednesday, July 28, Meadowbrook, Rochester Hills, MI (Near Detroit: 248.340.7406)
Thursday, July 29, Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio (Near Dayton: 937.296.3300) Joe Ely opens.
Saturday, July 31, Wolf Trap, Vienna, Virginia (Near DC: 703.255.1902)

There are worse ways to spend an evening than hearing Margo and Karin sing together.

Speaking of dates, Over the Rhine will be performing at Moonlight Gardens, Coney Island, Saturday, September 11. This beautiful outdoor venue is just a few miles east of Cincinnati on the Ohio River. We're also headlining the Blue Jordan festival the following Saturday here in Cincinnati. Then September 24th, we're playing Gordon College, just North of Boston and there's a show coming up Sunday, August 22 at Hillsdale College in Hillsdale, Michigan. You can mark your calendars, but more lateron these and other Fall dates. And yes, the December tour will be happening this year. The Emery maybe closed for renovations, but the tour will culminate here in Cincinnati, December 18.

Wonder of wonders, I've stolen moments on tour with the Junkies to write Northern Spy Number Four. We'll be getting the final package in the mail to the Rhinelanders early this Fall. It will contain the whole handwritten story of the world.

In other dreamy news, Eric King, I'm told, has introduced hisself to ya'll. He is in the process of building (we have the technology) the virtual orchard - - Over the Rhine's first ever locally operated website. If you experienced Don's old site, or Jeff's current site, these long distance love offerings were put together from afar by generous boys who had a hell of a time getting me to pick up the phone. Was it my Luddite tendencies or my lack of desire to interfere with their visions or the fact that I was in love-I can't remember. With little to go on, they did the band an invaluable service by giving us presence on the net. But now we're setting aside our guitars and notebooks for a time and drawing up sketches for this new definitive resource, a somewhat infinitely - layered universe of discovery, a sketchbook playground, a wonder in the woods for those who love words and music.

Think of it as an Over the Rhine CD booklet as big as your house.

We'll be having a grand-opening this Fall and this is where We could use some input. Part of the initial festivities will include offering an Over the Rhine MP-3 sampler free to the world a limited time, which will include at least one song from each of Over the Rhine's seven full-length CD's. If you had to pick ten songs that convey the heart of what Over the Rhine is about, which ten would you include? (At least one each from Till We Have Faces, Patience, Eve, Good Dog Bad Dog, The Darkest Night of the Year, Besides and Amateur Shortwave Radio.) You can post your compilations on the discussion list, or E-mail them directly to Stacie at OTRhine@aol.com. We're curious to see how your list compares to ours.

Along with these Autumn adventures, we'll be finishing our new studio recording this Fall. We got a good start in May and June and I for one am anxious to hear these new songs all dressed up and down. More on this in The Northern Spy...

Well, it's about time to grab my suitcases. There's so much more to life than words…

Linford for Over the Rhine

September 1, 1999
Hello again,
How have you been?
This is Linford writing from Toronto, Ontario on a fabulously brisk morning, bright and airy, Northern and keen. I'll be meeting Karin at 7pm tonight at one of our favorite little French restaurants in all the world, Le Select Bistro on Queen Street. We've grown fond of this city.

(Karin and I performed at the Ottawa Folk Festival Saturday night with Cowboy Junkies and incidentally Ottawa is an unusually stunning city in its own right-the wise, old and towering dark stone parliament buildings, the baritone clanging bell towers and winding footpaths high above the river.)

We've actually been doing a little recording with Cowboy Junkies and let me tell you hearing Margo's voice coming straight through the headphones can make your heart stop beating to listen.

But yes, here in Toronto we poke around in bookstores and record stores and fall asleep listening to Henryk Gorecki's Symphony No. 3 or Nick Lowe's "Dig My Mood" or Tom Waits: "The Mule Variations." We puzzle over the new Sparklehorse CD in headphones and try to figure out Nick Drake and close our eyes reminiscing to Ron Sexsmith's finely crafted simplicity on "Whereabouts."

Jane Siberry performed right before us at the Ottawa Folk Festival and she is one of the avid spiritual seekers of our generation, exploring tirelessly the ways and means of keeping her soul free and vibrant and quivering. She seems to long to live vividly from the deep center and music and words careen out of her like the dreamed prayers of the newborn.

A few weeks ago when Jack and I were in Nashville recording, we spent part of a Sunday afternoon with the New York Times in a Coffeehouse named Fido near the neighborhood of Green Hills. We were marveling to learn that Tom Waits would be performing at The Beacon Theater in New York City on a Saturday following an Over the Rhine show at Gordon College just north of Boston in late September. Well we stumbled out of bed early the next morning and the moment tickets went on sale we sprang into action like stock market tycoons on a Black Monday speed-dialing two hotel phones with trembling fingers and saying the rosary and after about fifteen minutes Jack had four fifth row orchestra tickets on his English credit card and a stupid grin on his sleepy face. (Who cares that with a few service charges tacked on and what not they cost $94 apiece...)

This is the sort of tomfoolery that made me want to stand on an upside down wooden box in the first place, playing a gypsy fiddle for anyone who cared to listen until the horse hairs clung ragged to the bow for dear life: some music feels like a long lost lover who slipped out of our arms through a secret doorway to walk and talk with God, and it's worth just about anything to see them again even if it means borrowing money from a loan shark and driving through the night until the stars blur.

It's September folks and we're entering hands down into the best part of the year here in Ohio. We're counting the days on our fingers till the Coney Island Moonlight Gardens get together. And what can you expect?

I hear Karin and Terri singing and dreamy. I hear the waves of Jack's guitar washing the Ohio River ashore and the sound of the piano. I hear Jeff Bird of the Cowboy Junkies who will be sitting in with us coaxing sweet sadness out of his harmonica and mandolin, and David's bass playing with all the room in the underworld. I hear the ultraviolet ukulele under Uma's underbelly. (Actually I made this last part up.)

I don't know but can you see back-lit clouds and girls swaying under the bright thumbprint of the moon in this old favorite outdoor venue where the young used to arrive by riverboat and dance to swing bands and hold hands beneath the same sky, each starring in their own Midwestern, being filmed in black and white through the infinite camera of the mind's eye?

We're counting this one down. Ten days numbered on two open hands. Our ten year anniversary. And I sure hope that the piece missing from this coming night so perfectly puzzling isn't you. More later, but she'll undoubtedly be whispering to her sidekick, "Look who's here." And I'll have my head bowed and my eyes closed hoping.

Down by the river we'll dream awhile.
Linford

P.S. My favorite bird has always been the Redwing Blackbird but Karin and I were reading about Indigo Buntings a few days back and we learned this and I quote: Females are never blue.

Over the Rhine
Coney Island Moonlight Gardens
Cincinnati, Ohio
Saturday, September 11, 1999
Special Guest: Niki Buehrig (formerly of Plow On Boy)
Doors Open: 7pm
Showtime: 8pm (OTR on stage at 9-ish)
Tickets available through all Ticketmaster outlets ($10) and at the door.
All ages welcome. Bring compatriots, cameras, notebooks and rested lungs. Circulate this letter to the old and weathered, to the young misfits as you see fit. It's enough for now.

September 7, 1999
I don’t have the kind of temperament that burns out young—I’m a late bloomer. I hope to be painting when I’m 90 years old. - Alex Colville

I’m sitting here by the lake on the edge of Toronto but I’m thinking of the river on the edge of Ohio. How many days until we meet there?

I’m thinking of some words to a song that Karin and I recorded a few autumns back but never performed or played for anyone. I’m surprised that I can remember it so clearly. I’m tossing you these words like the first handful of yellow leaves I saw on the ground the other afternoon in Ottawa.

Come every frail September
with its flush of naked fire
there’s a child that I remember
(like an almost imperceptible change in the weather)
she left me standing far away
back somewhere on a different day

Was it you that said
with a needle and thread
I could mend the tear in the world
stitch it up like a ruffian’s face
dance under clouds of diaphanous lace
while the moon grows round
in her hand-me-down crown
full of ghosts out of our past
HEY ALL YOU SLEEPWALKERS
the dreams they seldom last until September
it’s no ordinary world
come September
she’s no ordinary girl

(This may make no sense at all without the music. Maybe we’ll give it a maiden run at Coney.)

The clouds up here above the lake are wispy and silk-spun and plain as day are the silhouettes of two angels, their arms outstretched as if reading secret maps as they fly face down across the sky above the lake. Plain as day right here in Canada. What next?

A dark honey-skinned couple. She’s wearing a white shroud and holding a wrapped baby. They pause by the fountain and he asks if I’ll take their picture. I approach them with my Midwestern grin. Her nose is pierced with a small but intricate piece of gold jewelry. She says nothing, but smiles once. I frame them in front of the fountain and freeze a moment of their lives for them.

I heard something the other day in a song on the radio about what we end up with. Two dates on a tombstone and a tiny dash between them. The tiny dash in the marble between the two dates is your gift to yourself and the world.

I think of my life and the days I feel like my only gift is to make a mess of things--my only calling to be a failure. And I sit here and I think, “I have to try harder. I have to do better. I have to get closer and go deeper. I have to help you and you have to help me. We don’t have a choice. The tiny dash in the marble between the two dates is everything.”

These confounded clouds. Now there’s a different angel, face down across the sky with billowing hair above the lake and two arms raising a long trumpet to her lips (this is such a cliché) but there she is plain as the dying day anyway. I know you won’t believe me but the clouds up here are purple and lavender and lilac this evening and entertaining angels unaware. And in the time it takes to write the words down it’s all a lie because now the clouds are all becoming medieval with ancient orange and the sky behind is Maxfield Parrish hushed turquoise. And I’m not joking, a white clipper ship appears on the water with seven sails and families of blackbirds slowly circling as if somebody is pulling all the strings grinning and we’re supposed to just sit back and watch the show in disbelief.

Maybe we’re not supposed to try harder. Maybe we’re just meant to be together. There are moments when I can only hope so. One day we’ll be humming our songs in real time living what we can’t put into words.

Down by the river we’ll reconcile.
Linford

Over the Rhine
Coney Island Moonlight Gardens
Cincinnati, Ohio
Saturday, September 11, 1999
Special guest: Niki Buehrig formerly of Plow On Boy
Tickets $10 at Ticketmaster outlets or $12 at the door
All ages welcome.

September 9, 1999
Dear Faithfully Dangerous,
I am painting you.
The rough textural handlings,
the murky settings,
the wholly original approach to oils,
the treatment of light and shade.

I am painting you.
I've been profoundly affected
by your meeting place for the avant-garde,
peeling back the comfortable to expose a world.

I am painting you.
Large, figurative, highly charged,
filching from your purse,
the striped light from the blinds,
the awakening of twenty-first century art.

I am painting you.
The sweeping hills,
the dream-like quality,
this series of views
the subject of a lifelong search.

I am painting you and
this could be the end of God.
Or the beginning.
(A softly glowing niche,
enticing yet prohibitive,
you welcome the eye
while simultaneously excluding the body.)

Our attention is drawn to what is usually inconspicuous
in a fragile relationship that hinges
upon the flick of a switch.

I am painting you.
A self-taught artist linked to minimalism
because of his concern with architectural space
and subtle intervention.

My embrace of your light as medium, however,
is timeless.

Down by the river just you and I.
Linford for Over the Rhine

Over the Rhine at Coney Island's Moonlight Gardens, September 11, 1999. Tickets are $10 in advance and $12 day of show. Tickets available at all Ticketmaster outlets and at the door. Doors open at 7pm and show starts at 8pm. Niki Buehrig is opening.

P.S. We'll be playing a handful of songs with a few other groups tonight at Seasongood Pavilion in Eden Park as part of a benefit for a number of charities and community-minded organizations. It's called Friends Fest and it's free. So if you are interested in a teaser of sorts, maybe we'll see you on the benches under those tall trees. We start setting up around 7:30 and will probably squeeze in about half-an-hour's worth of music in our segment.

Also, please note that the Christmastime concert in Cincinnati has been moved to December 11, 1999. The Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra needed the Taft Theater Saturday, December 18, so we moved to Saturday, December 11. We have a fantastic evening in mind for you and I'm sure Karin will probably let the cat out of the bag at the Coney Island Show. She's not so good at keeping secrets.

September 21, 1999
Hello again,
Whole grain toast with red raspberry preserves from Oregon and orange juice for breakfast on a grey Monday morning… I'll start writing and see how far I get before Karin wakes up and puts the coffee on.

I want to thank all of you who made your way out to Coney Island on that lovely September Saturday night. I keep remembering and smiling all to myself. About 850 people gathered by the Ohio River. What a beautiful audience you all were underneath those hundreds of little white strung lights.

Niki Buehrig walked off stage and said what so many say who open an Over The Rhine show: we have one of the best listening audiences in the world. We are fortunate.

The concert unfolded like an evening one has been meaning to spend for a long time with a few close friends. We were all breathing together and that's what makes music worth playing. Hearing Jeff Bird's harmonica and mandolin made me want to do something good for the universe which seemed to be bending right along with his notes. David's old Fender bass had all that room to move underneath the world and I got to listen to his playing in a brand new way. Jack's understated guitar textures have a way of contributing to the flow of conversation without monopolizing it. That's Jack's appeal: he plays guitar like someone who's listening to the words. Terri T. has the ability to blend her voice uncannily with Karin's. People still ask me, "Where did you find her? She sounds EXACTLY like Karin." Well actually she doesn't. She has her own voice. But she has the rare ability to match Karin's tone and to breathe with her and that's what makes…

It was a beautiful night. Thanks so much for being there. (People flying in from California, driving from Chicago, coming down from Michigan, sneaking in from the South: my goodness.)

The Blue Jordan Festival last Saturday couldn't have been wilder or more different. Jeff Bird got stopped at the border of Canada in U.S. Customs with his contraband harmonicas and they turned him away. It's going to take 30 days to iron out a snag in his work visa. (These musicians are a threat to society. You can never be too careful.)

But we took a deep breath and called Don Heffington, one of our favorite drummers. He was in a band called Lone Justice and has played with Bob Dylan, Victoria Williams, Tom Waits, The Wallflowers and others. Bless his heart, he dropped everything, hopped on a plane at 5AM the day of the show, flew to Cincinnati, Jack picked him up in his white '79 Lincoln, we ran most of the set once with much laughter and conversation, packed up and drove North to Sharon Woods.

The Blue Jordan folks are fantastic but they had called the night before to say they really wouldn't be able to accommodate our typical stage requirements for a six-piece band. This, combined with the fact that the last festival we had played was Lilith Fair, replete with twenty-four stage hands and a separate mixing console for each act (maybe we've been a little bit spoiled) and the fact that everything was running about an hour behind schedule Saturday made for a somewhat farcical, surreal, damp, cold night: I'd do it again in a heartbeat. (Blue Jordan Festival is only in its second year and those very capable people will continue to fine tune, I'm sure. It's already an exciting development for the Cincinnati music scene and will no doubt grow.)

The only crew we brought was our front-of-house engineer who spent 45 minutes attempting to wire the stage together for the six of us, and we spontaneously decided to go ahead and start our set before he could line-check the main system. He therefore spent most of the night trying to figure out why David's bass was coming through Terri's channel, et cetera. Yeah, we're professional alright. Part of the system kept shutting off, and there was a low hum which made me wonder if there were a bunch of Buddhist monks underneath the stage.

I never did get my monitor sorted out and I looked down during the set and unbeknownst to me I had cracked my thumbnail and there were bloody smudged roses from middle "C" all the way up the keyboard about an octave and a half and I thought of Annie Dillard's cat in Pilgrim At Tinker Creek. I guess I was subconsciously hoping that if I hit the keyboard hard enough the monitor might start cooperating. I didn't hear a note Jack played all night, so I have no idea what he was up to, but I could hear Karin and Don and Terri and David and we had quite a roller coaster ride and sometimes these chaotic concerts are the ones worth remembering. And I kept trying to figure out why I was so happy even though we were probably making fools of ourselves.

I guess because the whole night felt so off-kilter, I went on a few rambling Hammond B-3 tirades that I was pretty embarrassed about later, but when the Spirit feels like it wants to move you have to take that leap of faith in the heat of the moment and dive off the high board and hope that it's more than just stringing a bunch of cliches together, blah, blah, blah.

Todd and Mitch Kearby and Scott Ross and Kat helped us unload and set up and they were fantastic. Tyler Brown helped our sound engineer try to sort out the madness. Thank you.

But I wish you could have been sitting where I was on stage. Don is a wonderful monster. It reminded me of being in a mid-sixties ragtop Buick Wildcat, on the hills of Fairpoint, Ohio.

Brian Kelley stopped by the house Friday night and I think it's safe to officially announce that he is no longer part of Over The Rhine. As some of you know, almost three years ago we announced this same piece of news and then a few months later he was back in the band still grinning, still haunted by the holy ghosts of his Pentecostal past. We didn't want to jump the proverbial gun this time.

When I sat down with Brian early last Spring to discuss the next Over the Rhine record, we got through most of the details there in Sitwell's Coffeehouse one evening and then drove our separate ways home. In the time it took to reach my house, I knew that Brian and I had probably learned from each other in this lifetime all that we were meant to. We had certainly grown in very different directions as people. I called him later to express this and he said he had been thinking more-or-less the same thing and that ten years was a long time. (Out of respect for Brian, I won't discuss all the particulars of why it makes good sense to us not to continue working together.)

To some people the idea of change is always read as some version of catastrophe, but nothing could be further from the truth. An artist's first responsibility is to grow and sometimes that means leaving safe, established, predictable working relationships. It takes courage to move forward even when it's not convenient. It takes courage to say, "If you should ever leave, then I would love you for what you need."

I'm extremely grateful for Brian's contribution to the seven Over the Rhine recordings currently in existence. I've always been a fan of his playing and that's why fourteen years ago I sought him out in a little white church in Marlboro, Ohio where he was playing in his family's band. Our journey together was unpredictable, and at times exceedingly rewarding. Brian has the potential to have a very bright future, and I'll be paying attention along with everybody else who appreciates his musicality. There were moments on our recordings that were bigger than all of us. What more can a musician hope for?

People occasionally ask me how I can be excited about making music after being in "the business" and at times certainly struggling for over ten years. I can think of three reasons immediately: one, I've learned how to hear my own voice and I try to make time to listen. Two, I've learned to surround myself with people I find inspiring, people who shape the way I think and enjoy what they do with the intuitive sense that life is an immeasurable gift. Three, I've learned to keep moving.

The ensemble at Coney was a living, breathing entity. If you ever have the chance to gather 800 people by a river and to walk out on stage with six people who have never performed together before but who know how to listen well, let me assure you your heart will not only beat faster, you'll start making use of senses you didn't even know you had. In short, for a couple of hours, you will truly live.

I think back over the ten years of Over the Rhine and the changes and experimentation in the band and the determination to try different things and it keeps me interested. One of these days, I'm going to send an E-Mail entitled, "Fans and Change: Ladies and Gentlemen the Sky is Falling." For your consideration, it would be fun to gather anecdotes and artifacts documenting the countless times over the course of the last ten years we've been informed by what seems to be a tiny vocal minority somewhere in the wings that Over the Rhine has more-or-less been ruined. I think you would find it all truly humorous and amusing.

I can remember when a record called Patience was the end of Over the Rhine (it was SO DIFFERENT than 'Til We Have Faces, What were we thinking?) and then according to some we OBVIOUSLY sold out with Eve and then when we started playing the songs from Good Dog Bad Dog, my god this was DEFINITELY the end.

It's an interesting phenomenon, Bob Dylan plugging in his guitar and alienating millions of his earliest followers, Joni Mitchell embarking on her jazz phase, line-up changes in The Rolling Stones, Picassso's distinct periods, Dylan Thomas abandoning his poems to attempt a novel, Elvis Costello breaking up The Attractions and going on in recent years to record with a string quartet or Burt Bacharach, Glenn Gould walking away from a brilliant concert career to write books and radio dramas and focus more on recording-what's wrong with these people?

Can there be any art without change?

I'm amazed and strangely humbled that as we've continued to experiment, in the last two years alone, our audience around the world has basically tripled. Maybe a commitment to not making the same record over and over keeps more than just the artist interested...

It would be of interest to me to open this discussion with you all eventually.

In the meanwhile, pick your own high dive and do the cannonball into the days and nights you've been given. According to some, we only go around once.

Linford

P.S. For the discussion group only: Stacie informs me that I have reached Darth Vader status, and shields me from your posts regarding my genius for evil lest I gloat incessantly and my appetite for gleeful destruction of all whom I encounter grows insatiable. I am absolutely flattered and I thank you. It must mean that at the very least you're on topic, which I understand can be rare. I now begin to fantasize about what my version of a death star would look like. I now no longer dream about owning and operating my own apple orchard: I will settle for no less than the entire universe.

December 2, 1999
PRESS RELEASE: HOLIDAY CONCERT IMMINENT, OFFER OF NATIONAL RECORD DEAL ACCEPTED
It has taken three years of hard work as an independent act, four independent records, an international tour with Cowboy Junkies and a lot of "Thanks, but no thanks" bargaining along the way, but once again, Karin Bergquist and Linford Detweiler of Over The Rhine have come to terms with a major label, and will be signing a national record deal. Virgin Records, home of Peter Gabriel, Lenny Kravitz, The Rolling Stones and the Spice Girls among others, are bringing Over the Rhine into their fold of acts, and will begin releasing the band's material in the year 2000.

Virgin is in the process of starting a new "imprint", a smaller division under the umbrella of the larger company called "Backporch". David Lowrey of "Cracker" and "Over the Rhine" are the new division's first signings. So what did it take to convince Over the Rhine's songwriting team - a partnership that was very prepared to enter the new millenium with a simmering underground operation that seems to steadily expand the group's following - to sign on?

Virgin began by dispatching John Wooler to Cincinnati, the A&R man who has in recent years nurtured artists such as Van Morrison, John Lee Hooker and Pops Staples.

"These were all artists with strong unapolegetic visions who didn't necessarily fit the mainstream MTV mold," explains Karin Bergquist. "We're huge fans of just about everyone John has worked with and it took the pressure off to hear someone say it's not always about a smash pop single, it's also about being true to a vision come what may."

Virgin eventually offered Over the Rhine a deal that the band describes as "exceptionally artist friendly": total artistic freedom, tour support, recording budgets, advances and, oddly enough, thousands of actual copies of each of the band's own future Virgin releases that Over the Rhine is free to sell through their existing virtual vegetable stand and on tour.

Virgin agreed to pick up the story where the band's former label, IRS Records, left off, and will release Good Dog Bad Dog nationally on January 26, 2000. Over the Rhine will follow it later in the year with a collection of new material, much of which is already recorded. Virgin also agreed to put the the three IRS Releases, Till We Have Faces, Patience and Eve back into circulation, and to substantially increase the royalty rate payable to the band that IRS had initially negotiated. Over the Rhine tracks will be included on at least two compilations in the year 2000 featuring more established artists such as Peter Gabriel.

"They've tried very hard to structure a deal that doesn't interrupt what we have already established," says Detweiler. "We're going to roll the dice and see what happens. It's been fun to see this come together. It feels pretty good."

But before Over the Rhine dives headlong into the unknown new year, it's time for a celebration of the journey thus far: the many miles covered, the encouragement of the many who have made friends with these simple songs, the joy and heartbreak that comes from sinking your teeth into any dream. Over the Rhine promises a hometown concert at the Taft Theater in Cincinnati on December 11, 1999 that wings its way full circle through seven records and ten years of loss and redemption. The band will include their own singular haunting renditions of traditional seasonal material. The band will play as if it's their last night on earth. (Again.)

Last year Over the Rhine cancelled their December tour to record demos. This year, the band will play four concerts as a seven piece:
Karin Bergquist: Vocals and Acoustic Guitar (Norwood, Ohio)
Linford Detweiler: Piano and Hammond Organ (Norwood, Ohio)
David LaBruyere: Bass (Atlanta, Georgia)
Jack Henderson: Electric Guitar (London, England)
Jeff Bird: Harmonica, Mandolin, Melodica, et cetera (Guelph, Ontario)
Terri Templeton: Backing vocals and Violin (Northside, Ohio)
Don Heffington: Drum Kit (Los Angeles, California)

Jeff Bird is the multi-instrumentalist with the Cowboy Junkies. Don Heffington has played with Bob Dylan, Emmylou Harris and Victoria Williams.

Leo Kottke, acoustic guitar instrumentalist extraordinaire, met Karin and Linford this summer touring with the Cowboy Junkies. Linford describes him as an important writer trapped in a guitar vitruoso's body. Leo's weathered wit and rootsy mind-bending instrumentals are a perfect start to this long-awaited evening, that many consider a Cincinnati tradition. Come celebrate ten years with Over the Rhine.