The inherent good of music

Cardinals at the Window: A benefit for flood relief in western North Carolina

On Monday, my wife celebrated her 34th birthday on a day now synonymous with the Hamas attack on Israel, a terrorist attack that has led to more than 50,000 dead Palestinians and a war that continues to expand across the Middle East. 

Less than two weeks earlier, Hurricane Helene made landfall in Florida’s gulf coast before shoving a knife into the heart of the Southeast. The storm killed dozens of people and dumped unprecedented amounts of rain, running over entire communities and cities—permanently altering landscapes from Georgia to Kentucky and beyond. 

Hard Times. 

Some of Helene’s most brutal devastation fell upon Western North Carolina. The images that emerged from towns like Asheville were difficult to comprehend. A region my wife and I visited for our fifth anniversary just two years ago was rendered unrecognizable. 

Look at the Cardinals at the Window 

Tragedy can give birth to transcendent art, though I try not to celebrate this fact. Just a cursory search for the Tortured Artist Trope will shine a light on the many pitfalls of romanticizing mental illness and trauma.

In the wake of Helene one of my favorite music writers, Grayson Haver Currin, rallied some of the best contemporary musicians to join forces in a mammoth 136-track compilation called Cardinals at the Window available for download on Bandcamp for just $10 with all proceeds supporting victims of Helene in Western North Carolina. 

I can’t think of the last time I was excited about a digital release. To paraphrase a popular meme–in this economy?!? But this release has something for everybody and it features a lot of bands I’ve cared about over the last 15 years. Rather than attempt to sum up its significance, I’ll let Currin do the talking. Here’s what he said in an Instagram post on the day of the compilation’s release.

“TL;DR I worked alongside many, many good, old, and new friends to release a 136-track compilation featuring some of my, our, and your favorite bands ever. All proceeds go to our homies who need it so much right now, the people of Western North Carolina. It’s called Cardinals at the Window. It’s out this morning on Bandcamp only–$10 (or more please).

Phish. R.E.M. Waxahatchee. Lambchop. Little Brother. The War on Drugs. Bill Orcutt. William Tyler. Tyler Childers. S.G. Goodman and Bonnie “Prince” Billy. Lonnie Holley. Geologist. Gillian & Dave. Flock of Dimes. Feist! Nathaniel Rateliff. On and on, all goodness. Support how you can. (Cover by James Madison Mitchell)

A few months back, a musician I’ve known for a long time from the Triangle, Libby Rodenbough, started posting photos of a mountain road that looked mighty familiar. It happened enough times that I eventually asked: “Is that Spring Creek?” Or maybe, “Are you living at the base of Doggett Mountain?” Turns out, Libby had moved back to Madison County, less than three miles from the last place Tina and I called home until we left for South Dakota, in an old farm alongside my standby running route. Over the next few weeks, we shot the shit about local trails and swimming holes. I think I still owe here a list of my favorite spots. Sorry, Libby. 

When Hurricane Helene hit 10 days back, I immediately sent Libby a note. I knew her spot was near the confluence of several creeks I have loved, and I knew she couldn’t be very far from flooding. She, luckily, was on tour with some other pals, and she immediately began sharing resources for how to help her community. As I have mentioned before, I felt incredibly powerless watching it all on the news, like a family member left outside of an operating room as something awful goes down inside. 

Within 24 hours, Libby hit me with what seemed like a small ask and some simple way to help: She and her friend David who runs a great music blog New Commute, were going to put together a quick compilation of friends near and far to raise money for Western North Carolina. Would I be willing to reach out to more friends and ask them to pitch in? Yes, of course. That night, turns out, I was going to see old pal Dave Hartley, in town with his band The War on Drugs. He hadn’t heard from his family in 36 hours, which meant we scuttled our plans for a hike as he waited nervously by the phone. I mentioned Libby’s idea to Dave and asked if the Drugs might have something; within 24 hours, the band’s manager was looking for the right track. 

It was a seemingly small thing, but for all three of us, I think it sparked the realization that this thing could be big, that we could corral a lot of musicians and people we really loved to raise a lot of money for people who really needed it and would need it for a long time to come. The emails, texts, and phone calls started flying. Hey man, do you know how I can get in touch with R.E.M.? Hey, Phonte Coleman, I know we haven’t seen each other in a few years, but what’s the chance you have a Little Brother track sitting around we could … have?  Hey, Mary Lattimore, you’re on tour in Europe, but any chance you could finish a song for us? Well, look, The Avett Brothers, I know things ended a little awkwardly between us, but what ya got? 

Over and over again, people said yes. They offered to introduce us to friends. They offered to record friends. They offered whatever they had, so long as they could find a way to do more. Adeem the Artist recorded in a foreign TV station. Waxahatchee and MJ Lenderman cut new tracks with the homie Bradley Cook just for this thing. I heard about folks in flooded towns finding a studio just to finish a track. Joshua Carpenter, who lives in flooded-out Marshall, made his way to a studio just to cut a song with Carpenter / Cohen, lights flickering the whole time. I may be wrong, but I don’t remember anyone really saying, “No, I have no interest in doing that.” The same was happening for Libby and David. We first eyed 30 tracks, then 50. 70 felt big, and 100 felt like the absolute cutoff, nothing above it allowed. 

This morning, we’re releasing 136 tracks, or at least I think that’s the number. It has been incredibly moving. I’ve cried multiple times when people have said yes, and I’ve sent at least 300 messages in the last week to say, “Holy shit, they said yes!!!!!,” about R.E.M. or Gillian Welch or Archers of Loaf or Eric Bachmann solo or Daniel Bachman. It’s just been absurd and beautiful, some small counter to the absurd and tragic shit that’s happened in a place so many of us love. We have so many people to thank for this, but I want to give an unbelievably big thank-you to @madeofoak a hero and my wook guide who, alongside the wonderful and mighty @alliblois, mastered 136 of these tracks over three marathon days. Tremendous shit, Nick and Alli, tremendous. 

I could type on and on about this thing, but I think you get it by now. It’s right to end with some words by Libby, since she started this project and since she’s headed today back home, back into the thick of it. We can help and help and help when things like this happen, but we have to change as a people in order to, very slowly, get back in front of these catastrophes, ever mounting in scale. Are we going to do a new one of these tomorrow for Hurricane Milton? 

As Libby put it in the press release that just went out: “In the aftermath of a ‘natural disaster,’ it’s important to situate this manifestation of ecological collapse within a history of inequitable exploitation of land and people. This is a region that has suffered in the name of human progress for a long time. I hope we’re going to take this opportunity to start building a different kind of world in Western North Carolina and beyond.

OK, please share this thing with your friends. Our friends are depending on it.” 

Every fall, for more than a decade I’ve witnessed the power of music as a force for good while serving on the Tonic Ball planning committee. Musicians across Central Indiana give up the chance for a paid gig on the Friday before Thanksgiving to play a covers show to benefit local hunger relief nonprofit Second Helpings. For more than 20 years, Tonic Ball and the iconic acts it celebrates have filled up clubs in Indy’s Fountain Square for a good show and a better cause.

I believe in the power of music to unite otherwise disparate people. I believe in the basic generosity of our neighbors. It’s why I work in nonprofits. I already loved most of the musicians found on Cardinals at the Window, but my love is reinforced by the generosity found on this release.  I hope you can find 10 bucks to pay that generosity forward. And if you live in Indy, I hope to see you at Tonic Ball so we can celebrate the generosity of Indy’s music scene together on November 22.