top of page

The DeSoto Caucus

2014 - Glitterhouse Records

The DeSoto Caucus

"Congratulations, you made it! You bought this record, you opened it, now you're reading the liner notes – a chain of somehow old-fashioned actions one might say. But I prefer the expression out of time, or rather, timeless. Speaking of timelessness, let's talk about The Desoto Caucus, their style and their music. Later there will be light, too. And here we go. Last time I saw these guys was on a sweaty night in Hamburg in 2012, when my friend Howe Gelb was in town with his extended band Giant Giant Sand. One Giant less and you have Giant Sand. For the past ten years this band has consisted of the legendary main man Mr. Gelb plus four guys from Aarhus, Denmark: Anders Pedersen, Peter Dombernowsky, Nikolaj Heyman and Thøger T. Lund. They are a kind of second-sighted gentlemen you hardly find nowadays. Friendly, open, distinguished in a humble way, and always with an adventurous sparkle in the corner of their eyes. Tramps in suits, if you like. Hobos with homes. They won't throw TVs out of hotel windows, they never curse or yell, but if you pull a cigarette they would pass you a light, and cover the flame with their hand, asking you how things are going before you can even say thank you, sir. In 2006, they formed their own band, The Desoto Caucus, but I didn't know. They never told me. Not because they didn't want me to know. These guys just don't push. They slip. Elegantly. Like this: After a cheerful goodbye, after the band took off and left for the next stop of the tour that summer night in Hamburg, I stumbled home, blissful and bedazzled. The next morning I found a burned CD that somebody must have slipped into the pocket of my jacket. It was 'Offramp Rodeo', the then not yet released second album of their now infamous band. Without any expectations I gave it a try and was immediately hooked. Vast open sounds, elegant grooves, a voice in a dark-blue timbre telling mysterious stories about losing and finding things, the guitars breathing, more rolling then rocking, like a tender thunder. And while listening to these songs, my nervousness suspended into a kind of sweet contemplation as the light outside changed into a pastel glow you might find on the coast of California, or in the north of Denmark. For it really is the same kind of light, go see for yourself! Anyway, I couldn't stop listening. For months. And I wasn't surprised when I discovered who had made this music. I played it to friends and the reactions were always the same: Silence, soft smiles, then the question: Who is this? Can I have it? Please! I don't know how they do it. How they create this kind of atmosphere. It's music you could easily walk by, due to its inconspicuousness. It feels so natural, so in-tune and conscious, never showing off or trying to sell something, never trying at all. It's just there, it feels right, and we all know that this is the greatest craft: To create art that is so elemental, that you can't imagine a world without it. The trick is to start breathing. If you take your time and go with the flow, you will sink into it. You will find the levels and layers, the words between the lines, the subsonic sounds and branched connections – and you will get addicted in the most positive way. If you need labels to not get lost, you could call this music Americana, but since this has such a dated ring to it, you better change the sticker to Be-Here-Now or Contemporary something, or .... ah, forget it. Let it happen. Enjoy. And don't miss the light."

- Tino Hanekamp

Nail In The Wall (Pedersen)

Staring at the nail in the wall where your picture used to hang
trying to remember if the door bell really ever even rang
there's the first few rays of light
sniping like insect bites

Keep it quiet keep a steady hand on the tiller till it cracks
try to find a way to sit it out and please relax
we lost the last shroud of the night
how do we stay out of sight

Listen to the drumming of the rain as the city starts the day
all the running feet of a thunder slowly rolling our way
there's a train full of dreams
taken to extremes choking all the screams

Skills Of Warfare (Pedersen/Heyman)

Into the dead of night we extend you
a slow and bumpy ride with the ground crew
along the silent roads you won't know of
were darkness still explodes in a blow of
take care, there's no need
for all your skills of warfare

Go down along the cove to the new scene
we're putting on a show at the Black Bean
we booked a part for you on the main stage
if it's a bit askew don't sustain rage
you don't know you're ensnared
in all your skills of warfare

Upon a crumbled place with a low sound
you think you see a face that brings you down
and find a missing link in a dead voice
but if you try to think, it's your own choice

There you square
and roll out
you're unaware
of all your skills of warfare

Stepping Outside (Pedersen)

I'm stepping outside, reclusive
I'm finding this stride too elusive
not a thought goes through my mind
the work is complete
and it's fine

I'm stepping outside, committed
you know we collide, now admit it
never thought I'd leave the crew
now it's just me
pulling through

Hear the crooked bullets fly
see how they pass me by

It's colder outside, but it's clear here
no one to fight on this frontier
see the man that slowly flows
into a realm of repose

I followed the stream to the city
I crumpled the dream with pity
now I see how I was blind
I'm stepping outside
and it's fine

Wasteland (Pedersen)

Throw me your red lips
lower your shoulders
show me the scar that you hide
just a few flips that's what I told her
over the great divide

I used to live in deserted houses
castles of bottles and sand
far from a beach yet further from feeling
any one's loving hand

Words that strand
ships in a wasteland

I slowly dissolve like Quinn as he's watching
out with his eyes on the door
fall like the rain be
lost in glass city
pitilessly drifting ashore

Radiant cowgirl beam through the doorway
showing the scars I conceal
glow in a new dawn, start the healing
ending this lonesome ordeal

Words that strand
ships in a wasteland
we're ships in a wasteland

Come Undone (Pedersen)

Feet first we're falling
in and out of belief
two tickers stalling in need of relief

You've hit the waters
that fell as we spun
around the wonders of the multiple one

Come undone
be the one
don't lay out the setting sun

In fear of drowning
unlearning at best
we all run for reasons barely expressed

Our words keep fueling
unreasonable doubt
it's kind of grueling but that's what it's all about

Come undone
be the one
don't lay out the setting sun

I've lost the feeling
that I'm one of us
it's so revealing and so hard to suppress

Come undone
be the one
don't lay out the setting sun

Just The Other Day(Pedersen)

It seems like just the other day
that half the city washed away
and you said us two we'll stay
you're tired of running
It seems like just the other day

I think maybe it was in May
you left to join the cabaret
a painful show, a shadow play
left you spinning
It seems like just the other day

Stars that shoot and love that's second hand
can be really beautiful
like an unknown Promised Land
you're so hard to understand

It seems like just the other day
you said there will be hell to pay
then took the car towards the bay
did not come back that night
in fact you never did so I
guess you got lost along the way
Lighthouse (Pedersen)

A lighthouse against the winter sky
a landscape flying by
and you know that you've been screwed
something doesn't quite comply
but instead of asking why
you just conclude
that that beacon is the essence of solitude

Made good money, sure
that's not the problem nor the cure
another week escaped you
another month, another year
and you think you know what you're doing
and you think that you're getting somewhere

A black dog by the side of the road
rocks where a river flowed
and you know it all adds up
and while you are still afloat
you make a mental note
to just stop and see the moon
and its glow before it drops

Never once looked back
always stayed on the track
another love escaped you
another dream, another fear
and you think you know what you're doing
and you think that you're getting somewhere

Bridges Of Bern (Heyman)

All the people of Bern know to keep in mind
that you can drift down the Aare
but don't reach the river Rhine

Coming down from the ridges
with the pace of time
and we fall from the bridges
and we're drawn to the river Rhine

All the bridges of Bern
up above, along the line
just burn on, burn
we're on our way to the river Rhine

Maybe time will disclose
what made us blind
well everybody knows
we'll go down in the river Rhine

Crack In The Cover (Pedersen)

I'm one lying flat on the back
checking the crack in the cover
perceiving a cleansing air above her

There's two or more ways to explain
the growing pain of your lover
that we might be about to discover

And it seems to me
like a burn in the third degree
that's coming on inescapably

All three going down a dirt track
while dusky clouds start to hover
I'm still checking the crack in the cover

And it seems to me
like a burn in the third degree
that's coming on inescapably

Don't Fear (Pedersen)

Escaping through tunnels of cracked concrete
surprised at what you find
looking east you meet the west and see how they align
you reach the plains as daylight breaks
it's clear there is a gain
pilots, sailors, faithful fakes abandon the urbane

So don't fear if you hear
a foreign sound to your ear

Never mind the word you heard
we're running towards the light
hearing fails and eyes get blurred upon this wondrous sight
we reach out to the fellow man
attempting to unite
they say that's how it all began
to me it's just alright

So don't fear when you hear
a foreign sound to your ear

The man is at the window still
he's taking you away
to the big house on the hill in case you won't obey
hold on to your rabbit's foot
for all that it is worth
your luck is totally kaput prepare to hit the dirt

But don't fear if you hear
a foreign sound to your ear

Lonesome Train (Pedersen)

Lonesome train
westward bound
long to dwell
to rest and never be found

Yellow as liquid sun
carrying a suitcase and a ray gun

Pierce the plains
rule the rail
you persist
the steel and dust trails prevail

No more horsing around
in for a penny in for a pound

Cry against
the rushing tide
knee deep in uncovered with nowhere to hide

March on the golden dawn
steadfast and frugal you move on

bottom of page