Depression Musician

© 1976, Night Whale Productions

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I can't believe this song is actually 30 years old! It was recorded by Night Whale on the "Thirty-One Foot Ketch" album (which is WAY out of print), but as I was working on material for a new CD, this tune kept popping into my mind.

Rufus S. Ainsworth was my grandfather. You can see him behind his drum kit in the picture, which was taken sometime in the thirties at the Davenport Hotel in Spokane, Washington. In addition to the drums, he also played the Xylophone, violin, trumpet, mandolin, organ, and probably a host of other instruments..

He tried to make me a drummer. He purchased a snare drum for me when I was 6 or 7, and drilled me at least once a week on the rudiments. But when I was finally old enough to join the school band, I wanted to play the melody, so I switched to the trumpet, which he also taught me to play. (It was probably a good move. If you've ever see the opening scene in Steve Martin's "The Jerk", you probably have a pretty good idea of my innate sense of rhythm.)

When I took up the guitar in the 8th grade (Neither the Kingston Trio or the Beatles played trumpets), he was incredibly supportive. I never tired of listening to his stories of playing music on the road. Despite the fact that all responsible young men were studying to be scientists and engineers during those post-Sputnik cold war years, I secretly wanted nothing more than to become a road musician.

I wrote "Depression Musician" while staying in a seedy motel in Milwaukee, Oregon. Night Whale had a three-week engagement playing a little club just South of Portland. I was gathering a pretty good store of my own road musician stories, and I really wished Grandpa was still around so we could swap both tales and tunes.

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