They told me when I was a young girl, “Your Daddy, he’s an Indian.
Just like his mother before him and her father was the legendary Louis John.
Well you’ve got Aggy’s cheekbones on you,
you’ve got Maggie’s blood running on through.
So lace up your big black boots and roll your sleeves up past your elbows.”
I learned that there were others just like us –
from the valley to the coast, up the Great Northern Peninsula.
You knew, and the whole town did too,
but you bit and you learned to hide your tongue.
Though he never said it verbatim, Joey never mentioned us in the Terms Of Union. So everybody grew up thinking and believing that the island and big land had no Indians – huh.
Time’s brought change and some of us can now lay claim
to what we’ve always lived or known.
But policy, and rules & regulations,
have pushed us backwards and divided homes.
And now they’re telling us what we’ve always known – is that we were too much and now we’re not enough. We were too much and now we’re not enough.
You’re wrong – you couldn’t be more wrong. We are who we are and we’ve been here all along.
Nobody’s Peach, from Seattle, serve up nine gorgeous songs informed by bluegrass and Americana, gentle as a fall breeze. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 24, 2020
Australian collective Family Jordan explore complex emotions through soft alt-country songs that take the bucolic with the bittersweet. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 17, 2021