As someone whose modest instrumental skill all but evaporates in altered states, the tale of "herbal terrorism" Corb Lund tells on new single "Old Familiar Drunken Feeling" sounds nothing short of a nightmare. That said, some of the best stories I've heard in life begin with a scene-setting "Me and the boys," and the songwriter's first tease of new album El Viejo is both another great entry in the cannabis country songbook and a memory to look back and laugh at.
Lund's recollection of getting "too freakin' high" from a cannabis edible before a show in Colorado begins at the local, legalized dealer — his speech-like singing stirring up visions of how Canadians once shopped before dispensaries were on every block: the investigation of a new storefront with frosted front windows, young people behind the counter who are "highly skilled and desirable" or "unhireable" depending on one's perspective, the invocation of "modern science" and the "you can eat this stuff now" sales pitch.
Before Lund knows it, he's at elevation in more ways than one; a hurtin' Albertan trying to collect himself before the gig, left with no escape outside of trying "to ride the rank bastard out." With possible prayers to Willie Nelson or the "Rocky Mountain High" spirit of John Denver going unanswered, the artist resorts to "the cowboy way" of mixing in some whiskey, "shot after shot, just like I was taught," to bring himself back to Earth for his second set of the evening.
That "Old Familiar Drunken Feeling" Lund chases — the warming and lightening of the spirit, a sensation washing over oneself at a speed they're accustomed to — is expertly captured in the song's sing-along chorus, characterized as being "embraced like an old friend" if not the ones you're making blurry memories with in the immediate.
No matter your pick of poison, be sure to take in the song's accompanying Noah Fallis-directed video — packed with the best shots of a Canadian musician in a field of green since Rita MacNeil and her band were made to harvest crops at gunpoint on Trailer Park Boys.
(New West)Lund's recollection of getting "too freakin' high" from a cannabis edible before a show in Colorado begins at the local, legalized dealer — his speech-like singing stirring up visions of how Canadians once shopped before dispensaries were on every block: the investigation of a new storefront with frosted front windows, young people behind the counter who are "highly skilled and desirable" or "unhireable" depending on one's perspective, the invocation of "modern science" and the "you can eat this stuff now" sales pitch.
Before Lund knows it, he's at elevation in more ways than one; a hurtin' Albertan trying to collect himself before the gig, left with no escape outside of trying "to ride the rank bastard out." With possible prayers to Willie Nelson or the "Rocky Mountain High" spirit of John Denver going unanswered, the artist resorts to "the cowboy way" of mixing in some whiskey, "shot after shot, just like I was taught," to bring himself back to Earth for his second set of the evening.
That "Old Familiar Drunken Feeling" Lund chases — the warming and lightening of the spirit, a sensation washing over oneself at a speed they're accustomed to — is expertly captured in the song's sing-along chorus, characterized as being "embraced like an old friend" if not the ones you're making blurry memories with in the immediate.
No matter your pick of poison, be sure to take in the song's accompanying Noah Fallis-directed video — packed with the best shots of a Canadian musician in a field of green since Rita MacNeil and her band were made to harvest crops at gunpoint on Trailer Park Boys.
