https://petercase.com/wp-content/uploads/Dangerous-Book.mp3 The Plimsouls, Dangerous Book, 1995 (This was my first post for a while. Like all of us, I’d been laying very low. I’m reprising it now as we move forward into the next act.  At the time I was discovering the songs for Dr Moan.) We’ve been quarantined for four months now. The country’s going through paroxysms. I’ve been trying to stay in touch with people. But in here it’s like living on a submarine during a transglobal cruise. What have you been doing? I’ve been playing the piano like crazy. Started playing guitar again last week, though I never really lost my calluses. I’m coughing all the time, which is worrying these days, but the doc says it’s allergies. Writing songs is a kick, and hopefully I’m going in to record another album in a few months. There’s one album, The Midnight Broadcast, already in the can, and it’s going to mastering, hopefully to be released by September, on a new label called Bandaloop Music. The timing of it all has  been thrown off by circumstances, but we’ll see.  I’ve been reading whatever’s around. That includes a couple of novels by Charles Portis, and some poetry by street poet

Courage is who you stood up to while your back ached your heart beat your breath galloped your heartbeat doubled—he got next to me and I could see murder in his eyes—he wanted to teach me a lesson—he growled and ordered me to sit down– in a chair he threw into the middle of the room—I knew what his intentions were and I ran—he couldn’t catch me and I hid—soon after that I began to stand up to him— when I stopped running and turned around he wept–the real father and son night—courage is of the heart—it’s not just resistance but resistance for a heart-felt cause—we never discussed the heart—I did a lot of things other people are scared of—did they take courage? I know I’ve shown some—but you have to know your heart to defeat cowardice—you gotta believe—standing up to a beating—I’ve never been good at but I kept my terror in check a couple times—they say what I did took courage—but I don’t know only the individual can know about themselves—Lord Jim—hitch hiking when I was a kid? say what you gotta say—do what you gotta do—fear is always there but “take away my fear and direct my

https://petercase.com/wp-content/uploads/1-01-Pelican-Bay.mp3 Discolored from rain on the tarmac near Detroit—TSA left the snaps half undone—and now it looks bruised—the old jumbo twelve string—called it “the cannon”—it’s loud and deep—feels alive in my hands—a sound I’ve developed to express the american red brick honky tonk beauty I’ve been feeling since 1970 or so—the twelve string is a spiritual  instrument—I said it for laughs but it’s got a lot of truth to it—the thinner octave strings suggest a parallel dimension—the realm that follows and corresponds to this one—the plonk and jangle–boom and chime quicksilver brightness— The deep notes with their higher twins—cut through the air–through depression, despair and boredom—objectivity and abjectivity—the twelve string brings extra arms in the fight for light—harder to bend—but more rewarding—still pliant—people say “oh, it’s samey I wouldn’t want it on every song” and I don’t either but it helps me make the most of a simple phrase—always the ghost—the top-end reminder of the spiritual—twelve gates to the city—my protector—a wall of sound?—blues on the twelve—Hendrix—Leadbelly—Keith Richards—it’s heroic—John Hammond Jr. at McCabe’s that night on a guitar just like this one—maple—blonde—tuned way down to C—to see—needs to be treated with blessings, gratitude and respect.

  The new album, Doctor Moan, is nearly mixed, and will be available as soon as possible. Should have more details in a couple of weeks. Here’s a link to a full length interview regarding Fred Parne’s Documentary, Peter Case: A Million Miles Away, with The Boston Harold Podcast The doc should be available for all to view soon…[update: May 30 2023] Here’s a link to the Spotify Playlist of the new Highway 62 tracks that were recently released in the expanded edition of the album, available on many of the music platforms now.  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/56h6IbDqAeMIYBkdu8ur2c My latest album, from 2021, is available here: The Midnight Broadcast I discussed my street-singing days in North Beach, Busking with Allen Ginsberg, and other adventures, from the Otis Gibb’s podcast Just for kicks, here’s a clip from the 80’s, I think it was, of the Plimsouls LIVE. Plimsouls LIVE 1980 something… I regretted having to cancel the UK tour, but I did it under advisement. I do hope to be able to tour there again with my pal Sid Griffin Click on the image below to see my latest book, at Amazon. Thanks everybody, I hope to see you soon!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/56h6IbDqAeMIYBkdu8ur2c?si=KlFZik0aRiWFKNLY0pkbqQ  

HWY 62 (2015) Hello friends, I hope this finds you all well after surviving the zig-zag fortunes of 2021. What a time! I’m glad I have some positive music news to bring you. On Bandcamp Friday (December 3) a new expanded version of my album HWY 62 is being released for downloads; 17 tracks, including three unreleased songs and three other alternate versions, as well as the eleven songs from the original album, remastered. https://petercase1.bandcamp.com/album/hwy-62-expanded-edition       My latest album, The Midnight Broadcast is available on vinyl and cd directly from Bandaloop Records: https://bandalooprecords.bigcartel.com/ Here’s the review from American Songwriter: Peter Case Captures a Late Night Connection to Radio on ‘The Midnight Broadcast’     Please vote for my album The Midnight Broadcast in the No Depression Poll! (Link below) https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScNcWaHy9rhQ7TFpFMdPQeFPfSoNkYJ9ao5AOtHu0plVqAcvw/viewform?fbzx=5820312378874917764&fbclid=IwAR15jsX1CDGwAeYPCPG19n-7X05fVIMaSgUsSw1Cgk2lT4oDfqUnTjW_L2g My latest book, a collection of lyrics, drawings and stories, is available here: www.amazon.com/Somebody-Told-Truth-Selected-Stories/dp/1930935455/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=peter+case+books&qid=1638480081&sr=8-1 I’ve been home in San Francisco writing songs and arranging the recording for the next album, which I’m very excited about, set for mid-January. Not sure when touring will resume, but fingers are crossed for a Spring tour in Europe, and then dates in the U.S. I hope you all have a great holidays,

Let’s see, it was October 1983 and I was still in the Plimsouls, but we had come in from the road, and  had wound down, and I was just knocking about, living alone in a tiny pad up in Laurel Canyon (in the same cottage the Melvins eventually moved into, after I split). I  was writing songs for what was gonna be my first solo LP, and felt like I was on the moon, ’cause I was living at night, isolated, kinda living in my dreams & musical ideas, and I didn’t have to show up anywhere or for anything, it was woodshed time. It was a good time, I was 29 years old, freed up for the first time from a lot of things that had been bugging me. So I picked up the new Dylan LP at Tower on Sunset, and took it straight back home, and threw it on, and was completely transfixed by “Jokerman.” The first thing that got me about it was the Sly and Robbie groove, unlike anything I’d heard before: it’s not rock or reggae either, but something new, very open. As usual with a Dylan record you hear every word. He delivers

  Thanks to Bob Dylan, on his 80th birthday for all the gifts he gave to us. Personally, I always feel like it’s Christmas on Earth (as Rimbaud coined it) when I experience Bob singing, speaking, writing, acting, painting and drawing, most whatever he does has been illuminating. I learned about American music and America itself. For me, time stopped when I heard Mr. Tambourine Man for the first time, and shortly after read “Folk-Rock: the Bob Dylan Story” in paperback, (which was very misleading in, but also enlightening in some ways.) By the time I was 14 I’d heard his first several albums, read the poems enclosed with the third album, 11 Outlined Epitaphs, started learning the songs in the Bob Dylan Songbook I received as a gift in 1966, listened over and over to HWY 61 through John Wesley Harding, then read Tarantula from a mimeograph while high on mescaline, and weeping, in 1971, in my first room away from home, with the Dont Look Back poster on the wall, hidden when the door opened, that movie, then companionship on the bank of sand Watching The River Flow, later the generational tale of Tangled Up In Blue, and