Just Like The Country
Any band that makes an album based on the French Revolution is bound to get my attention. Especially when they use the names of the months decreed by the Republic in 1792, called the Year of Liberty. Read about the Thermidorian Reaction, and you will understand the importance of that time in French history. Now, about the band. What a band this is. The most original band to come along in a while. Read the lyrics to “Forty-Five” attached to this article. Just Like The Country is basically the vehicle for Nathan and Ginnifer Brown. This is a great band. Never be surprised what instruments you will hear on their songs. Their sound is a little like Neutral Milk Hotel or The Mountain Goats. Definitely different, but absolutely fantastic. I LOVE THIS BAND. Check them out.
Ginnifer Brown: Lead vocals
Nathan Brown: Guitars, programming, background vocals
Brian Andrew Marek: Sonic spectrum consultant
Recorded, mixed, and mastered at Brown and Serve Recording, Saint Louis, MO
Produced by Nathan and Ginnifer Brown, with help from Craig England, Tam England, and Gig Thurmond
Artwork from Cupid and Psyche by Francois Gerard, 1770 – 1837
Written by Nathan and Ginnifer Brown (C) 2012
In the highway outside of Belleville,
In a Hyundai full of all her things,
In the crush of a woman so still
To the rush of hope she clings.
In her heart, she’s death defying,
Double-bladed – faith and doubt.
With the feeling high like flying,
Vivid dreams, electrifying,
And the constant need of now
Must be satisfied somehow.
On a Monday after the goodbyes,
On the runway waiting in a line,
On a plane full of still half-closed eyes
In his veins, two truths entwine.
Sweat and love and blood pulse so hard.
Living hand to mouth to brow
Molds an honest face, although scarred,
And a life behind the plow.
Flowers bloom but with regard
In a cold brickyard.
Find the cause in a plain vow,
So extravagant somehow.
With the workday’s numbers all reckoned,
With the birthday cards and wishes read,
With each other, a quiet second
Spent just lying in our bed.
Touching hands to shelter our shrine,
Nesting on a strong oak bough,
As essential as the sunshine,
Never could be called highbrow.
Modern myth of spark divine.
All the stars align.
I’ll take real over the wow,
And we’ll stay in love somehow