In hindsight, I recognize the irony of releasing The New Britton Sound on the summer solstice. More scarecrow than sunflower, its unveiling would have been better suited to the autumnal equinox and the Wyeth-toned landscapes of bare trees and grain harvests. Summer was over. My shape had changed and my gaze turned more inward, yielding an introspective crop of songs tuned to the nuances of the natural world as it revealed itself to me in different ways. A new decade of my life and a new home in rural southern Michigan's farm belt turned my bright coat brown and rolled some of youth's treble from my mix. Growth is always occurring, but I now felt more aware of its constant presence. Friends, foes, witches, ghosts, and drunks, cruised Lenawee County's dirt road majesties in wagons laden with vintage organs, banjos, and accordions. Earthy British folk-rock and obscure cult songwriters held sway over my turntable and a lean band of colleagues soon coalesced, proudly bearing the here/anywhere banner of Timothy Monger State Park. 

The financial follies of my earlier endeavors and the crippling debts they incurred dictated a stricter D.I.Y. approach for my second album. Legitimate studio time would be considered a premium and the cobbling together of a very humble home studio began. Pirated programs, second hand gear, and a positive attitude made up the base level to which I added a marginally-decent mic and preamp combo purchased with earnings from a one-off Christmas web jingle I made for a British ad agency. Despite the expanded artistic freedom I enjoyed, the limitations of both my rig and engineering skills were always apparent and I learned to lean heavily on my more talented friends. The collective might of musical soulmates, Starling Electric, became a big part of The New Britton Sound with Jason DeCamillis engineering early sessions, John Fossum drumming across the album, and Christian Anderson playing guitar. Trumpeter Matt Collar and bassist Scott DeRoche completed State Park's core while collaborators like string arranger Paula Kelley and uilleann piper Tyler Duncan added their own distinctive textures. Mostly self-recorded in the barns and tiny 9' x 9' bedroom studio of Brablec Farms, the album was brought to life by the great Geoff Michael who tamed its flaws and unearthed the dignity and power which I'd tried so hard to instill into its bones. Finally, Kristie Brablec's ethereal cover photo -- an inspiration in itself -- gave The New Britton Sound the mystique and sense of place. -TM