more from
Fluff and Gravy Records

Small Believer

by Anna Tivel

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $9 USD  or more

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Includes unlimited streaming of Small Believer via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $13 USD or more 

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Classic black vinyl

    Includes unlimited streaming of Small Believer via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 4 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $20 USD or more 

     

  • Limited Edition LP
    Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Hand numbered gold vinyl. Limited to 125

    Includes unlimited streaming of Small Believer via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

1.
Illinois 03:33
Underneath the heavy sky, the highway shines A razor blade cutting down to bone Nothing left to do but hold the wheel and drive The dark of night, the dim light on the road All the way from Illinois, a thousand miles of waiting for A gentle touch, a kind, believing word All the way from Illinois, and not one to be heard Tell me all the ways to make a day go by In an aeroplane high above the earth Or standing in the kitchen in an awful fight The brightly colored blood of ugly words All the way from illinois, a box of clothes, a can of oil The promise of a place to settle down All the way from illinois, and not one to be found And nothing hurts like crying on a long drive home Nothing worse than hiding in the dark alone From the beautiful lights of a dangerous love Shattered glass, a photograph of a broken heart A crack along the windshield of the world The shape of something running in the untame dark The howling out of freedom and of hurt All the way from Illinois, the radio, the rain, the road The dream of finding out just what is love All the way from Illinois, and turns out nothing was
2.
The only light in the basement apartment, a blue tv glow through the blinds The flicker and din in the dark of a Saturday night A raven’s asleep in the rafters, a stray cat circles a kill From the basement, the tin-can laughter of a late night thrill Tomorrow’s asleep on the front step, and yesterday dreams in the street But in the basement apartment, a shadowy man, he just stares at the wall He can’t sleep And me I’m just part of the darkness, just trying to get something right On a Saturday night And this all reminds me of something, the song of a long ago time A memory pure and haunting on a Saturday night And I don’t have all of the answers, I don’t have even a few But two shadows above me were dancing and I thought of you Tomorrow’s asleep on the front step, and yesterday dreams in the street But in the basement apartment, a shadowy man, he just stares at the wall He can’t sleep And me I’m just part of the darkness, just trying to get something right On a Saturday night The only light in the basement apartment, the flicker and fade of time The heavy and hopeful heart of a Saturday night Of a Saturday night
3.
Alleyway 04:27
smoke against the windowpane, just the semis breathing on the interstate a gray upon the graying of october hey honey it’s been so long, i got so lost, so far down the tracks of an old abandoned rollercoaster see the wheels fell off, and the rails all rusted over i remember you that night, in the noisy bar, in the yellow light the radiating heat between our shoulders and i know good things never last, yeah i know that now but i didn’t then and i let you lead me blind around the corner but sometimes still at night i dream, an empty bottle in the alleyway on a night so clear a billion stars are born and each one is a world i guess, of dust and flame and wishes cast by lovers hoping love will last til morning we tried a while to make it good, you hid the cans, i played the fool you got some work, i got sick in the mornings but you lost that job, and we got kicked out hey babe, ain’t nothing to cry about and you said you’d send some cash from california now i got work, down the street, cleaning rooms at the super 8 sometimes i take the path home by the river i wonder what our daughter’s like, yeah i hope that family treats her right and gives her all the things we couldn’t give her now a dream is all that’s left of you, i guess some folks are born to lose some kids are born for someone else’s cradle and the days go by, i get along, the air grows cool and the leaves fall and the smoke it moves and fades against the window
4.
Tommy lies drunk on his own front lawn At three in the morning, his work shirt still on He curses the man, and he curses his boss And a cloud rolls past and the night grows dark Thirty-one years on the factory floor The grease and the motor, the seven to four And the face of his daughter, no child anymore His wife and his mother, his life and his love The heat and the rise of a burning shame The pride in the work and the years that he gave Just a flick of a pen, just a cold handshake What’s a man really worth at the end of the day And Tommy he stands and the rain starts to fall He catches his step, and he heads for the car And he drives past the factory lights in the dark Just a man out of work, and a man out of luck And the bars all empty, the town asleep He presses the pedal, he tears up the street To the edge of the town, where the highway leads To the end of the world, to the end of a dream And racing the headlights, the clouds never clear And he’s revving the engine, he’s stripping the gears And the moon on the asphalt, his face in the mirror And the rain coming down like a dark chandelier And the radio blasting, a song about home He’s flying so fast, he’s leaving the ground And the beautiful lights as he’s spinning around And the silent night when the lights go out And Tommy he wakes with the blood on his face The moon up above, and the cool falling rain He feels his body, and he hears his name In the scream of the siren, in the heat of the flame He calls for his daughter in the thick black night He tells that he loves her, he yells for his wife And he sees her above him, her dark, sad eyes And he pleads with his god, and he bargains with time And the rain falls harder, it washes away The blood and the fire, the fear and the shame And the sirens arrive and he screams and he prays To the moon in the sky, to the stars and the rain And nothing but mercy, the angels press The gold of their robes to the well of his breast And he opens his eyes, and he quietly says Don’t take me tonight, i got work to do yet
5.
Blue World 04:34
there’s a shine to a night like this to the way your body moves and the lines of your silhouette and the rise of your fragile bones and the lift of the whispered wind and a song that you never heard and you’re riding on silver wings and you’re leaving the blue world and the bells of the mission ring and the bricks bring an echo back there’s a glow and it’s covering everything in its gentle path and you dreamed of a night like this and the call of a fallen bird and the beauty of it all is that you’re leaving the blue world and no one to call your name and no one to bring a rose and you come to the heavy gate and you open it all alone and a wild magnolia blooms on the damp uncovered earth and the twist of the tangled roots and you’re leaving the blue world and you rise like an ember caught in the smoke of a single flame like the candle a lover brought just to light a beloved face there’s a shine to a night like this and the stars never fell so near and your soul like a golden gift and it rises and disappears
6.
You woke and the window wide open, your pillow, all wet from the rain in the night The trail of a siren, the red and white neon, a broken reflection, a cry Just a girl in the alley, a bicycle bell, and the last cigarette won’t light You rode to the cafe, your apron, the coffee, the soft-dripping faucet, the radio news And joe on the line, all the burns on his arms, and his girlfriend at home with a yellowing bruise Just a girl in the alley, the trash and the last cigarette dropping ash on your shoes You closed in the quiet, the bleach rag, the bucket, the bicycle rusted outside in the rain You rode in the dark, sat and smoked on the porch, and the neighbor dog barked and the traffic light changed Just a girl in the alley, the stars coming out and the last cigarette of the day
7.
Come up to the house and ring the bell Beware the second step is rotted through And all across the lawn the fallen leaves Behind the door the shuffling of feet A face appears between the parted blinds Just haunted by the heaviness of time And click the lock and slowly creak the door And nobody remembers anymore Nobody remembers anymore, it’s just another story that never got told And ordinary dance across an ordinary floor Nobody remembers anymore Inside the house the air it doesn’t move A tv set recycling the news And pictures on the table by the stairs Just gathering the dust of passing years And everything is changing in this town The supermarket aisles are bright and loud And telephones and complicated wars And nobody remembers anymore And oh, oh my god, i wanted to do something great And oh, but i loved, and i guess that’ll do anyway And all the kids are grown and gone away You know times were tough but they turned out ok They come to visit once or twice a year They clean the gutter, fix the broken stair And who will ever know the time is right And the lucky ones they just turn out the light Close their eyes and let their breathing slow And nobody remembers anymore
8.
Come up to the house and ring the bell Beware the second step is rotted through And all across the lawn the fallen leaves Behind the door the shuffling of feet A face appears between the parted blinds Just haunted by the heaviness of time And click the lock and slowly creak the door And nobody remembers anymore Nobody remembers anymore, it’s just another story that never got told And ordinary dance across an ordinary floor Nobody remembers anymore Inside the house the air it doesn’t move A tv set recycling the news And pictures on the table by the stairs Just gathering the dust of passing years And everything is changing in this town The supermarket aisles are bright and loud And telephones and complicated wars And nobody remembers anymore And oh, oh my god, i wanted to do something great And oh, but i loved, and i guess that’ll do anyway And all the kids are grown and gone away You know times were tough but they turned out ok They come to visit once or twice a year They clean the gutter, fix the broken stair And who will ever know the time is right And the lucky ones they just turn out the light Close their eyes and let their breathing slow And nobody remembers anymore
9.
All Along 03:38
There you go just rolling, like a hubcap on the highway Loosed and looking for a shoulder you ain’t never leaned upon And freedom’s just believing in the weight behind your reasons Call it fate or just a feeling, call it anything you want If you get lost in California, turn around and head back northbound til you’re home Honey I have loved you all along Like lightning on a hillside, you have cracked and raged and destroyed You have lit up, burned and glowed like you ain’t never gonna die And love is just a fire, it feeds and fades and embers fly And you been trying to get it right ever since the flint first touched the stone If you get lost along the highway, let the north star and orion lead you home Honey I have loved you all along There you go just running, like a color, like an engine You got ninety miles to get back to the place where you were born And truth is just a sound you make, when no one else is listening And the blue and bitter wind has left you feeling mighty low If you get lost and you get lonely, know that somewhere I am singing you this song Honey I have loved you all along
10.
11.
Red-tail hawk on a split-rail fence The gathering dark of the night begins Cicada choir on the rising wind A lonesome beauty over everything And winding highway let me make it home I’m broken down, i’m skin and bone And all this dreaming i’ve been living on The silver water and the red-tail hawk Graceful waitress on a wooden floor An amber glass upon an empty bar A drunkard swaying when the music starts The neon praying of the steel guitar And small believer i’m alive i guess The whiskey mixing with a dream i had The music lifting me above the bed The silver trumpet and the clarinet And all i know is what i see A tattered hope, a small belief kaleidoscope of half-lived dreams A photograph of something sweet And winding highway let me hold the sound Of coming home, of turning down The unpaved roads of this old town The clover fields and rows of corn And small believer i’m alive i guess The whiskey mixing with a dream i had The music lifting me above the bed The silver trumpet and the clarinet Yeah small believer i’m alive i guess The red-tail hawk and the split-rail fence The neighbor girl in her yellow dress Oh the silhouette that her shadow casts

about

Anna Tivel’s fourth studio album ‘Small Believer’ is a collection of patchwork stories drawn from conversations with strangers, on the road, in restaurants, bars, and rest stops. Produced by guitar mastermind Austin Nevins (Josh Ritter, Anais Mitchell), the songs float on a raft of electric guitar, pump organ, and sparse bass and drums. ‘Small Believer’ is spacious and honest, a lyric-driven exploration of the things that move within us. Tivel takes great care with every syllable and every story, chipping away until what remains is blindingly true and deeply affecting. The album comes out September 29th on Fluff & Gravy Records.

credits

released September 29, 2017

Produced by Austin Nevins

Recorded by Brandon Eggleston at Jackpot Recording Studio, Portland, OR

Recorded by Austin Nevins at Rabbit Hill Recording Studio and The Map Room in Portland, OR

Mixed by Brandon Eggleston and Austin Nevins at Gold Mine, Vancouver, WA

Mastered by Ed Brooks at Resonant Mastering, Seattle, WA

Photography by Jeffrey Martin

Album design by Charlie Wagers: www.charliewagers.com

Anna Tivel: Guitar, Vocals, Violin

Austin Nevins: Electric Guitar, Nylon String Acoustic, Pump Organ, Lap Steel, Banjo, Glockenspiel

Sam Howard: Bass

Chris Johnedis: Drums

Jeffrey Martin: Vocals

Rob Burger: Keyboards

Matt Douglas: Clarinet

All songs written by Anna Tivel, ASCAP

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Anna Tivel Portland, Oregon

Anna Tivel's wide-eyed celestial folk songs belong in a similar
ballpark with Anais Mitchell, Gregory Alan Isakov and Laura
Veirs, where gentle picking plucks among occasionally
unconventional sounds and a gorgeous voice tells stories of
life in a world of natural wonders. The resulting music is
incredibly honest, lyric-driven, and deeply affecting.
... more

shows

contact / help

Contact Anna Tivel

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Anna Tivel, you may also like: