Ο μακαρίτης Jason Molina θρηνεί για την 11η Σεπτεμβρίου σε ακυκλοφόρητο κομμάτι του
Στο τραγούδι συμμετέχει επίσης ο Bonnie Prince Billy και ο Alasdair Roberts
Σε σημείωμά του, ο Alasdair Roberts θυμάται ότι τις ημέρες της τραγικής κατάρρευσης των δίδυμων πύργων το 2001 βρισκόταν μαζί με τους υπόλοιπους αυτούς μουσικούς σε μια φάρμα στο Kentucky. Το αμέσως προηγούμενο βράδυ ήταν που ήχαν ηχογραφήσει το ανατριχιαστικό "My Donal" ως Amalgamated Sons Of Rest...
Το πρωί, ο Molina τον ξύπνησε λέγοντάς του πως κάτι φοβερό είχε συμβεί... Ήταν την ίδια ημέρα που έγραψε το "September 11", το οποίο μόλις δόθηκε στη δημοσιότητα για πρώτη φορά και μπορείτε να το ακούσετε στον ακόλουθο σύνδεσμο.
Διαβάστε παρακάτω αυτούσιο όλο το γλαφυρό σημείωμα του Alasdair Roberts:
Ο τελευταίος μας χαιρετισμός στον τεράστιο καλλιτέχνη Jason Molina ήταν το άρθρο της στήλης "10", Cross the road, Molina.
The late Jason Molina and I had met a few times in England (when Jason was studying for a period in London) and in Scotland (Glasgow, where I lived then as now), after being introduced to one another by Will Oldham in late 1995. The recording session by Jason, Will, Will’s brother Paul and me was Jason’s idea originally. The prospect of working together with these musicians whose work I admired, and who were also cool people, was very exciting; so that’s how I found myself in Paul’s Kentucky farmhouse that historic weekend in 2001.
Of course, what made that weekend historic was certainly not this humble meeting of musical minds; rather, it was the fact that it coincided with the unanticipated and awful events of the September 11th 2001 terrorist attacks and the collapse of the World Trade Center. I am convinced that my memory of that period has been heightened by this coincidence; I have a strong recollection of Jason, Will, Paul and me recording on the evening of 10th September. I remember the warm southern evening sunshine (a particular delight for one accustomed to Scottish autumn weather), streaming through the window and infusing everything in the room with a kind of preternatural glow, as we recorded a version of Owen Hand’s wonderful song ‘My Donal.’ Will was playing a Nord synth and singing, Paul was on drums, Jason played bass guitar and I was playing Paul’s bright blue Telecaster. I remember walking by the barns that evening and seeing row upon row of tobacco drying, shining golden and lovely in the twilight. But none of us was to know that that would be, in some sense, the last twilight of an old world.
Jason woke me at about 10am the following morning with the words: ‘Ali, you should come downstairs. Something really bad is happening.’ My initial thought was that perhaps someone in the household had been injured or had fallen seriously ill. And so I went downstairs to confront the new global reality. Most of the rest of the day was spent watching the television news in numbed disbelief; in the evening we dined and talked together with some other members of the Oldham family. And then it seemed that the only thing to do was to carry on as normal – to pour ourselves a large Highland Park each and to make rock and roll, like we were born to do. So that’s how this piece of music came about – it was a spontaneous response from Jason’s soul to the unimaginably terrible events of that day, and it was one in which he invited Will (on piano), Paul (on Nord synth), me (on bowed mountain dulcimer) and every listener to cast their own offering.