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1.
1. Handle Them With Care Not so very long ago but in a different day Nothing was taken for granted or lightly thrown away Holes in socks were mended the cobbler fixed old shoes For knees and elbows, patches we saved what we could use Chorus If it's good, keep it with you for as long as you can Nothin lasts forever in your hands The little things you love, handle them with care They're reminders to appreciate the ones who won't always be there The way we valued what we had, so humble as it was, Helped us learn how to cherish what meant the most to us Friendships were considered nothing easy to replace A neighborhood was more than where you had a parking space If it's good, keep it with you for as long as you can Nothin lasts forever in your hands The little things you love, handle them with care They're reminders to appreciate the ones who won't always be there Is an old relationship written off as done and spent Because when times get rough it's inconvenient? If it's good, keep it with you for as long as you can The world just turns and turns like the hands on a clock Till something tragic stops its course and sends you into shock Then maybe it's a comfort for the time you mourn You did the best you could by the loved one who is gone The little things you love if you handle them with care They're reminders to appreciate the ones who won't always be there
2.
Mowers Blade 04:27
2. The Mower's Blades © Dean/Garner/Thomas There goes a moth who's flyin' from the roarin' of the mower comin' Seeking safety in the shade he dives into the mower's blades I'm reading lately how some dolphins get mixed up at somethin' Think they're homin' in on where they know but wind up dyin' in the shallows Shallows, shallows, they wind up dyin' in the shallows I know you're runnin' from the hurt. I done you and she's lookin' good But just because we're not workin' out don't fool yourself that you two would Chorus Please darlin' don't fly back to her you mess with more things than you know You must feel bad if you're forgettin' how she made you feel so low There goes a moth who's flyin' from the roarin' of the mower comin' Seeking safety in the shade he dives into the mower's blades The blades, the blades, he dives into the mower's blades
3.
3. In My Imagination In my imagination summer turns to spring In my imagination I was Queen of everything In my imagination Love is never blind In my imagination you were mine Chorus Signs of love were plain enough to read All a figment of my need Round and round and here I go again Here’s to you my flesh and blood, imaginary friend In my imagination you made the desert bloom Your every word bespoke your love Made brightness of my gloom We only met a few times how else could it be In my imagination you were meant for me In my imagination I’ve seen stone lions yawn Found orchids growing in the snow blinked and they were gone I never got to know you never took the chance All my imagination let me do was have that one slow dance
4.
That Was the Day Luckier than a four-leaf clover Rarer than a piping plover That was the day I met you Brighter than the whitest beach Sweeter than a Georgia peach That was the day I met you Lovelier than any pearl More important than all the world That was the day I met you Chorus That was the day we met / How lucky could we get? Was it chance or was it kismet / When our course of love was set? Intoxicating more than wine More precious than a silver mine That was the day I met you Happier than puppies playing More idyllic than palm trees swaying That was the day I met you Bridge That was the day I met you And I never would have bet you Could have guessed when you got up that day That love was on its way Vivid as a peacock tail As sacred as a Holy Grail That was the day I met you Bigger than the salty ocean Incredible as perpetual motion That was the day I met you
5.
The Cold 03:48
5. The Cold Sometimes this world is a brutal place dark cruel and cold And evil thrives on the innocent, God rest their soul No map or direction to show the way when death and shadows unfold All the martyrs who aim for paradise may go to hell All the stories as told and the images graven Of blessed lives of sacrifice are craven lies by charlatans As everybody knows We’ll go on down to the riverbank and look once more Through the mist see what’s left of the factory on the other shore The wind taste of salt of the harbor and the sea which stretches beyond Do you wonder if this is paradise? Sometimes I do All the stories I’ve told and the lies you’ve forgiven Are in the salt and mist and sea the harbor and the factory As everybody knows Sometimes this world is a brutal place, dark cruel and cold And evil thrives on the innocent, God rest their soul The wind taste of salt, of the harbor and the sea which stretches beyond Should you leave me in search of paradise, I bid you well
6.
Love Triumphant Misguided Saw that Valentine's fell on a Saturday thought about it no more Till I realized Friday the Thirteenth would be the day before Hard enough, in better times, to do what's right by Valentine's Will the one day be gone completely before the next begins? If I gave you a heart-shaped box would bonbons or bugs be within? Chorus Hard enough, in better times, to do what's right by Valentine's With so unlucky a day beside it are hopes of love triumphant misguided? I'm shunning black cats and ladders as well, not spilling any salt So whatever goes wrong between us I'll know it wasn't my fault Bridge How do I make things turn out like they should? Do I think scientific or knock on some wood? Chance plays its hand very close to the vest The fortunes of lovers are anyone's guess I'm picking up pennies, crossing my fingers in the name of romance Having my tea leaves and tarot cards read, leaving nothing to chance Got my horseshoe and four-leaf clover at hand and a hex sign on the wall Yes I'm stacking the odds in favor of cupid conquering all
7.
Lord of the Depths No one has seen one alive in its home Bodies are all that remain to be shown Cast up on beaches or tangled in nets, The end of what had been a lord of the depths Way down in the ocean we seek far and wide But they've known for millions of years how to hide And slither with ease from the eyes of people Although they're at least the size of a steeple Eyes full as moons, each as big as your head Guide our squid where the sunlight is weaker than thread But to balance himself, he completely relies On an organ as small as a grain of rice Chorus Sooner or later the facts will catch up With the myth of the squid that they call Architeuthis And then it may be that the legends are not Halfway as strange as the truth is Arm, tentacle, mantle, fin. these are the parts of a leviathan In a world of his own without daylight or stars Where we know even less than we do about Mars The squid is at peace, but we may be appalled That here man appears not to matter at all
8.
Farewell Voyager Now you are leaving the house of the sun Your time of loneliness has only begun The nine behind you seem like points of light Ahead it is darker than the darkest night Still you talk to those who sent you away Never an answer to whatever you say Has anyone sailed this empty sea before? 400 centuries till you come ashore Chorus When your signal fades at home And you plummet like a stone Void of meaning without men What exactly are you then? Whatever your makers know, they learn from you About the wilderness you're flying through To cold and silence you're forever consigned In keeping with your creators' design If any should find you in the infinite waste If you draw the attention of a faraway race Will they laugh at you for being simple and small Or admire you for being there at all?
9.
Eyes of Your Soul A preacher I knew of was blind for years But it seems that his prayers didn't fall on deaf ears And now there are hundreds who testify That he sees what they're doing with his single glass eye You say to yourself that it just can't be so Yet how can you know all there is to know? Whatever the kind of beliefs you may hold What is it you see with the eyes of your soul? Chorus Eyes of your soul never know when they'll open Eyes of your soul taking you by surprise Seeing as deep as the floor of the ocean Showing you more than you'd ever surmise Many a loved one is seen in a dream Or suddenly standing there, strange as it seems Come from afar to be by your side Present in spirit, although they have died Some see holy figures in dust upon glass Or in scratches on stones or in patches of grass And those who find healing or help in those signs Don't care if you say it was all in their minds Since time out of mind, and some do it still, You traveled alone into desert or hills For a vision that saw through the world of disguise A gift from the spirits, to make you more wise A light has been seen by some at death's door Who are sent back by others who had gone on before A trick of the eye, say the men of letters But those who return say they're changed forever
10.
Time Is 04:55
Time Is Time is the Christmas wreath suddenly brown Time is the seed hiding deep in the ground Time is the lock on the diary you found Time is the silence engulfing all sound Time is the crisis which never abates Time is the fixer of every mistake Time is the ruin of power and states Time, and time, again Time is the siege that will never be lifted Time is the kettle refusing to boil Time is the slave driver if you are gifted Time is the tank always thirsty for oil Chorus Is there too much on your hands Or does it slip through your fingers like hourglass sand Is it on your side whether time lingers or flies Time is the wolf peeking in at the window Time is the fading of colors to black Time is the album of mystery photos Time is the ache in your knees and your back Time is the Christmas wreath suddenly brown Time is the seed hiding deep in the ground Time is the lock on the diary you found Time is the silence engulfing all sound
11.
Wandering Star I'm as cold as a turtle on the bottom of a pond sleeping the winter thru I'm as cold as a stone on the dark side of the moon and just as distant too Chorus Be with me soon the summer's long overdue And the days too dark by far Your heart is the sun that could warm my soul But you've been a wandering star I'm as sad as the cat in the empty house that the family left behind I'm as sad as the love letter with the address that the mailman couldn't find Bridge I'm as patient as a telegraph line waitin for a sign Waiting for a sign waiting for it waiting for a sign Patient as the waves that break against the shore To while away the time I'm as ready as the wood in the fireplace to drive your Winter away I'm as ready as a robin to fly around the world and sing for you some day

about

If it’s good keep it with you
For as long as you can
Nothing lasts forever
In your hands
The little things you love, handle them with care
Handle Them With Care, Gardeania

Twenty years ago, I saw Sue Garner and Angel Dean perform at a festival in Chattanooga, alongside the banks of the Tennessee River. It was a cold, grey spring day but the air seemed to brighten as the duo blended their voices in harmony, like a female Louvin Brothers, the textures mixing into chords that shifted in a mysterious way. Sue’s voice was molasses, Angel’s honey spiked with apple cider vinegar. They strummed stringed instruments in a natural confident way, like they’d been born with guitars in their hands, just some more tools women use like spatulas and steering wheels and paintbrushes.

I already knew and loved Sue and Angel, having played in bands with them together and separately. But seeing and hearing them as a duo back then —and listening to their recordings now—reminds me what a powerful impression they made on my fledgling musical self. Charismatic vocalists from a place — the South —with a wealth of colorful experiences between them, they create a blend that’s near-familial and veers from cozy to unsettling.

I met them in the days they first met each other, back in early 80s New York City when they connected through a mutual acquaintance from the Athens, GA crowd of creative iconoclasts. That fertile scene helped fuel the influx of Southern artists and musicians who eased into downtown Manhattan bringing cast iron skillets, Carter Family cassettes and Flannery O’Connor paperbacks along with them. Southerners have always been drawn to the City of Dreams, but the freedom and chaos of the last quarter of the twentieth century was extra-fertile ground for the cantankerous spirit that is one of the qualities Angel and Sue share. That spark sent Garner from tiny Georgia town Cave Spring to art school, through Atlanta — and Dean from Knoxville via Cornell University drama department — to climb tenement and subway stairs, compelled to make noise and a life in NYC.

Sue and then Angel spent a couple of years in country band Last Roundup, an East Village gang of friends playing Pyramid drag bar, ersatz clubs and art galleries. We rehearsed in an egg carton-lined railroad apartment, traveled to gigs via Checker Cab and opened for greats like Doc Watson and Bill Monroe back in those days when anything was possible for a young group of art punk cowpokes. We were all in love with old country and bluegrass music, odd R&B and folk records found only in thrift shops and on the airwaves of freeform college radio stations like WFMU and WKCR. There was street corner singing and Christmas caroling complete with washboard. Sue developed her stringed instrument and production skills in various lower Manhattan contingents like our subsequent girl group the Shams; avant outfits Fish & Roses, Run On and solo recording projects. Angel brought her brilliant emotional vocals, steady strumming and stagemanship to groups Shackwacky and then The Zephyrs, and eventually the Southern gals rolled back into each other’s orbits like a couple of pinwheels on the county fair midway. By then Angel had moved to Providence, Rhode Island where she was developing her talents as a painter. Sue has often used her painting skills to earn a living and make art. Always interesting dressers, they share a flair for visual language as vivid as their storytelling and artwork.

In the early 21st century, the Sue Garner and Angel Dean’s Diesel Only release Pot Liquor racked up appreciative reviews for a keening vocal blend, tactile instrumentation and subject matter often inspired by the natural world, with music by Sue and Angel and lyrics written by Angel’s husband, horror writer Jonathan Thomas. There was a nostalgia in the sound and songs that some critics called Southern Gothic, but that suggests something creepy and distant —like petrified kudzu viewed through blurred wavy glass—and Angel’s and Sue’s voices are warm and immediate.

After Pot Liquor, the two played gigs and recorded another set of songs they called Gardeania. Life happened; time moved on. When I reminded Sue of seeing her and Angel play in Chattanooga back in the early aughts, she said what stuck with her about that day besides the wind and cold was a mandala being washed away by the rain. I recalled then how a group of Tibetan monks had formed a design in sand near the stage, painstakingly sorting and raking hundreds of thousands of colored grains into a work of art. Everyone marveled at the beauty, but partway through the afternoon a downpour destroyed days of work.

The sand mandala was slated for dissolution anyway. It’s a Tibetan tradition for the monks to create and then formally dismantle their creation as a tribute to the impermanence of life. You could say that due to the rain, the artists missed out on the final part of the process— that willful moment of destruction. I think Sue Garner and Angel Dean’s Gardeania got washed away before its creators had the chance to bring it out into the light and let the atmosphere decide its fate. But what matters most is the work they did, the impression they created. If you saw it you could attest to its beauty. If you didn’t, here’s another chance to celebrate what was there.

Amy Rigby

credits

released May 5, 2022

Produced by JD Foster and Sue Garner
Mastered by Steve Silverstein
Recorded and mixed at The Mule Yard (Sue and Rick's studio)*
*piano and timpani recorded at Brooklyn Recording by Andy Taub
Cover painting by Angel Dean
Musicians:
Angel Dean - vocals, acoustic guitar, whistling
JD Foster - bass on 1, 2, 6, 7, 10, 11, percussion on 3 and guitar on 4
Sue Garner - vocals, electric and acoustic guitar, bass
Steve Goulding - drums on 1 and 7
Jeremy Hogg - guitar on 2
Georgia Hubley - drums on 3, 5, 6, and 11
Greg Peterson - banjo on 6 and 9
Ted Reichman - accordion on 2 and 9, piano on 8 and 10
Doug Wieselman - clarinet on 3, 5, 8, and 9

All songs by Angel Dean, Jonathan Thomas, and Sue Garner
**except The Cold by The Scene Is Now

Thanks to JD Foster, Jonathan Thomas, Steve Silverstein, all of the amazing musicians (Steve Golding, Jeremy Hogg, Georgia Hubley, Greg Peterson, JD (again!), Ted Reichman, Doug Wieselman), Rick Brown, Andy Taub, Amy Rigby, Jeremy Tepper and Laura Cantrell

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Angel Dean & Sue Garner New York, New York

Angel Dean and Sue Garner grew up in the south about a hundred miles apart as the crow flies. They met in 1981, in New York City. They’ve played in numerous groups, together and separately. In 2003, they recorded an album for Diesel Only called Pot Liquor. Little did they know that their second album would take a dog’s age to see the light, but at long last Gardeania has flowered. Enjoy! ... more

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