Thank You Bird Snider
by Toby Oler
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Digital Album
Streaming + DownloadIncludes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.Purchasable with gift card
1. |
A1A Beachfront Avenue
04:13
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2. |
Thank You Bird Snider
03:07
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3. |
Blue Dream
05:43
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4. |
General Lee's Farewell
03:56
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5. |
Olero
08:47
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6. |
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7. |
Tap 1
04:17
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credits
released July 13, 2015
Emery Barter – bass
Evelyn Davis – piano
Lydia Martin – percussion
Matthew Lundquist – pedal steel
Pat Spurgeon – drums
Toby Oler – banjo
recorded, mixed, & mastered by
Emery Barter
at New, Improved Studio
in Oakland, CA
written & produced by
Toby Oler
copyright 2015 BMI Toby Oler
I first met Bird Snider when I was playing a gig with a bluegrass band at the Porthole Inn out by Lake Lemon in southern Indiana off of highway 45. 20 minutes before our set, I over-tightened the head of my banjo and it tore straight down the middle, rendering it unplayable, and we were fucked for the gig. By the way, if you go to the Porthole, try the catfish and tell Travers I sent you. Well, Merrie Sloan was in the opening band and she said her brother-in-law had a banjo just up the road and she would call him. That’s how it went. She called him, he came down the road and he brought his banjo. When Bird opened the case it was love at first sight. Neck of Brazilian purple heartwood that had been carved down smooth with a piece of glass. Thin handmade leather strap perfectly doubled over on itself. It was beautiful. The notes came out of this thing hard and fast. And it turned out he had built it. I had to have one. And mine turned out so good that the last time I saw Bird, he tried to buy it back from me. It’s not for sale. – TO
Emery Barter – bass
Evelyn Davis – piano
Lydia Martin – percussion
Matthew Lundquist – pedal steel
Pat Spurgeon – drums
Toby Oler – banjo
recorded, mixed, & mastered by
Emery Barter
at New, Improved Studio
in Oakland, CA
written & produced by
Toby Oler
copyright 2015 BMI Toby Oler
I first met Bird Snider when I was playing a gig with a bluegrass band at the Porthole Inn out by Lake Lemon in southern Indiana off of highway 45. 20 minutes before our set, I over-tightened the head of my banjo and it tore straight down the middle, rendering it unplayable, and we were fucked for the gig. By the way, if you go to the Porthole, try the catfish and tell Travers I sent you. Well, Merrie Sloan was in the opening band and she said her brother-in-law had a banjo just up the road and she would call him. That’s how it went. She called him, he came down the road and he brought his banjo. When Bird opened the case it was love at first sight. Neck of Brazilian purple heartwood that had been carved down smooth with a piece of glass. Thin handmade leather strap perfectly doubled over on itself. It was beautiful. The notes came out of this thing hard and fast. And it turned out he had built it. I had to have one. And mine turned out so good that the last time I saw Bird, he tried to buy it back from me. It’s not for sale. – TO
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