Tag: frankies-gun

  • Song of the Day #3

    “That Time Again” by Charles Wesley Godwin

    When I was on vacation recently, I texted my son that I was day drinking and told him the name of the bar. A few minutes later, “That Time Again” came blaring from the jukebox. My son had logged in from a couple states away and sent me the song he knew would fit my mood — and my day.

    Charles Wesley Godwin once dreamed of playing football at West Virginia University. It made sense. He grew up in Morgantown, WV, home of the Mountaineers, and played tight end and linebacker for Morgantown High School, graduating in 2010.

    He tried to walk on at WVU but didn’t make the cut. While traveling abroad, a friend brought his guitar to a club in Estonia and encouraged him to get on stage. He performed John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads” and earned an invitation to return the next night.

    That impromptu performance lit a spark. Over the next few years, he learned guitar and honed his songwriting. In 2019, he released his debut album, Seneca — undoubtedly a country record, but “more than anything it is a songwriters record.”

    I’ve been lucky enough to see CWG with his longtime band, The Allegheny High, twice this year. Both shows were barn-burning parties. The band is tight, talented, and clearly having a blast.


    Why do I love “That Time Again”?

    It feels like CWG is introducing himself.

    First you’re hearing of me, I’m hearing of you
    Hey, nice to meet y’all and how do you do?

    Charles Wesley Godwin – “That Time Again”

    For many listeners, the album Family Ties may have been their introduction to CWG. His sincerity and earnestness are hard to deny. In the second verse, he sings about how badly he wants to entertain people — and what happens if he doesn’t: “In no time at all, I’ll be checking wanted ads.”

    I love the tone of the acoustic guitar in the intro; you can almost see his fingers striking the strings. The chord progression is smooth and traditional, making the pedal steel a natural fit.

    It’s hard to hear this song without picturing CWG with the Allegheny High — empty bottles on the table, someone mid-story, steel strings buzzing in the corner. Laughter breaks out, a pedal steel sighs in the background, and the whole room hums like it’s in on the same secret. “It’s a gathering of kin,” he sings, and you get the feeling the guys in the band aren’t just bandmates — they’re family.

    I feel many connections to CWG. My dad’s side of the family is from West Virginia. My grandfather, like CWG’s father, was a coal miner. My dad was a huge Mountaineers fan. When CWG sings about Seneca Rocks, I know exactly where he means — I’ve been there.

    There’s a headstrong work ethic in Appalachia. They’re “get it done” folks. Results matter more than effort, and they don’t mind getting knocked down. Many seem to welcome it.

    I see myself that way. But more importantly, what you think is your goal isn’t always the path you’re meant to take. Sometimes you’re working toward one thing when something else catches your eye — and following it takes you somewhere you never imagined. For CWG, it was performing instead of playing football. For me, it was teaching instead of any of the careers I thought I was destined for.

    CWG’s story is an inspiration, and “That Time Again” is a reminder to stop once in a while and enjoy the trip, no matter your destination. My son playing it for me from so far away reminded me of all these things — and gave me a memory that will stick with me every time I hear the song.

  • Song of the Day #2

    “Frankie’s Gun” by The Felice Brothers

    Like spinning on a carousel, this song is a fun ride. The narrator is making a run to Chicago for some sort of contraband. It is a run that he has made so many times that “I think I know the bloody way by now.” Also like spinning on a carousel, you can predict exactly where this ride is going.

    Like all such endeavors, they have to be prepared for trouble. When he tells Frankie to check the glovebox and ignore the 30, is it $30 in cash, or might the 30 refer to a handgun?

    Every word is a warning: Don’t speed. No fender benders. Don’t draw attention. Frankie, keep your head down and your mouth shut.

    The loose, rollicking arrangement mirrors the trip—one wrong turn from disaster, and almost certainly doomed. The song sounds like it was recorded in a rest stop bathroom—and I mean that as a compliment. I can see our narrator, Frankie using a dirty towel to put pressure on his bullet wound, bleeding out as we hear the sirens closing in.

    The old-timey names (Frankie, Lucille) give this song a Bonnie & Clyde feel. Frankie and the narrator are so deeply immersed in this life of thievery and violence that they are fish swimming in it.

    Their world feels small and brutal, like the diner scene in A History of Violence — men so steeped in blood that violence is their only language.

    In the end, our narrator meets his fate. You can only make so many of these runs to Chicago without some sort of bad luck catching up to you. Was it a store robbery gone wrong? A cop who caught them breaking a minor traffic law?

    In the end, it doesn’t matter. What we get from The Felice Brothers is a painting of a lifestyle out of Flannery O’Conner’s “A Good Man is Hard to Find.” All that is missing is the fawning, superficial faith of a witness who “would have been a good woman, if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.”

    The Felice Brothers don’t moralize. They just turn on the tape recorder and let the bloodstains tell the story.