>>The best misses from holding it in.

I'm not listening.

>>From the second floo of the Orlando Public Library.

Welcome to Melrose in the Mix.

Our series of live recording sessions from here at the Melrose Center.

Hi, everyone.

I'm Jim Myers.

Today's session features The Left Joins.

The band is a showcase for the songs of guitarist and vocalist Dewey Robbins, with an assortment of accompanying artists and creative partners.

For this session, Dewey is supported by J Griff on bass and Chris Lebrane on drums.

Before setting up in the studio, we had a chance to talk with Dewey about his musical background, his influences, how he came to create The Left Joins, working in studio with Marc with a C and more.

>>If I can get home tonight.

I'll be just fine.

I could pull off the road and pick up my decline.

Might wake up tomorrow.

And be just fine.

I might stop right here and stop all time.

Everyone who has said it, has come to regret it.

Everyone who's said it has come to regret it.

When they built these roads is escape what they had in mind?

40 to be my route from what I've become through darkness and a storm.

10 is long but it'll bring me home.

Without signals, breaks, o fuel, chat with a border guard.

Someone asked how I'm doing for once.

Everyone who has said it has come to regret it.

He's come to regret it.

Driving these memories of youth.

Similar places with different crews.

Repaired many broken pews, wondering what has become.

It hasn't been that long, only a few years.

Whatever it was I accept it, I just woke up and stopped searching.

I'm self-taught.

When I was 16, seven years old like most most kids, I wanted to play guitar.

Met a cool guy at, school, in Orlando named Marc with a C, and, we were band mates for five years, started writing songs and, life caught up, and I stopped doing it for 15 years.

So, had some grief and then decided to pick it back up and, you know, pretty much hadn't picked up a guitar or played a bass in so lon that I had to start from zero.

And I realized pretty quickly that it felt better doing it than not doing it.

So originally the the band was a studio band where I was just going to make songs and technolog had caught up to my ambitions.

And here we are.

Unreported but glorious drama, the last three talks have taught me nothing.

The last stops at least seven picking.

The best wishes of holding it in.

I'm not listening.

I'm not listening.

Silence grows, nobody knows slipping under without a sound.

Without a sound, without a sound.

Unrequested granular opinion.

The last few years have taught me nothing.

The false starts, the least severed intentions.

Best misses of holding it in.

I'm not listening.

I'm not listening.

Silence grows, nobody knows.

Slipping under without a sound, without a sound.

Without a sound.

Silence grows, nobody knows.

Slipping under without a sound.

Without sound.

Without sound.

And so the joke "The Left Joins."

I'm a data engineer by trade and, in SQL, which is you know, a database language, you basically take a table and then you join whatever's relevant with your part.

So it's always me and then whoever's relevant.

So there have been seven different people in some iteration who have played, you know, maybe one song, maybe it's a guitar solo.

I've been walking around keeping all your secrets.

In darkness shines a light on your hardness.

That it will possess, frequency of heart ache, shining echoes on pain as you stumble through the hallway.

Feel her as a stiff breeze.

As it goes, a part of me, manufactured slow release rapid movement away from peace.

I am failing upwards.

Pushin through the course in reverse, knowing time has no seams.

Hastily rising to be your sea.

I've been crawling around in better or worse times.

Dressing the part of your heartbreaks.

That it will regress to live in a city as you stumble around rebuilding yourself at night.

Feel her as a stiff breeze as it goes, a part of me.

Manufactured slow release, rapid movement away from peace.

I am failing upwards, pushing through the course in reverse.

Knowing time has no seams, hastily rising up to be your sea.

So the catalyst.

The catalyst for the songs originally was grief.

My first.

My first wife, who I wa no longer married to the time, passed away.

She died five years ago of leukemia.

And it was a weird ending.

At the time, I wasn't writing songs, I think there was a there's a part of her that was always hoping that I would redo it and start doing it again, because, you know, when you meet somebody as a teenager and you're married for a long time, you know you you're fond of the things.

So the song envelope, is about a conversation that we had where she had written she was going to write letters to our child so that various points in her life, she would have some sort of, you know, things.

And she didn't do it.

And most of it was because i was going to make make her sad.

That was what her feelings.

So the song is kind of a call and response of she was going to write a letter, explains why kind of sai what the letter would have been.

And then it sort of goes and gets angrier, because now I'm mad that, you know, we don't get those letters.

>>I was going to write you a letter, it would have made you sad.

The horse I rode in on died and stopped me where I stand.

It will stay with you from Medor to Maine.

What can I do about it now?

I'm sorry, I didn't know it would go this fast.

I'm sorry, I didn't know it wouldn't last.

Let's assume the opening was strong, the middle had the finer points.

I said the things I should have said, and it smelled how you remembered.

That my heart was in it, exactly what you need when you read it.

I was going to write my intentions, acceptance wasn't there.

The place I'm in doesn't have any pens, what could I do to make amends?

My heart was riddled with fear and doubt, whatever else I could figure out.

I didn't receive your letter, it still needs to be said.

The place you're in doesn't start again, whatever we planned is a dead end.

My mind will live forever in doubt, stuck with what only I figure out.

The words you said I needed to hear, the smell of your letter could help me remember.

I'm sorry, I didn't know it wouldn't last.

I'm sorry, I didn't know it would go this fast.

So the way it went was I didn't want to be one of those middle age guys who, or people who basically spent too much money on music equipment, and then it just sits around and collects dust.

So my first iteration of this was I got a guitar and sort o made some clumsy songs, and then showed them to friends who were musicians, and they were like, these are good enough.

You should keep going.

I was about to quit because I couldn't, like, I was having trouble finding people just to play live with me.

And out of the blue I was in there on Christmas time and I got a call while I was shopping from a frien I hadn't talked to in ten years.

And he was like, hey, I want to tell you these songs that you sent me, I really like them.

And they've been on repeat my car.

And so then I reconnected with Marc after that because he helped me, another friend help me reconnect with Marc.

Marc also told me to keep going, and the next thing I know, I had an album put together that Marc co-produced.

He's he's, he's a studio joint.

That's what we call him.

He's the he's the studio.

He doesn't play live with us, but he's always there because he's like, hey, try this.

Arrange it this way.

Do these parts live.

I think I would.

I think we probably would never want to play more than twice a month.

Pull up the floors.

Board up the doors.

These walls are not the same to me.

Rip up the place.

I've been given your face.

But nobody is the same or really home on Preservation Road.

On Preservation Road.

On Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

It isn't how I remember, not like it will be.

It isn't how I remember or what it means to me.

On Preservation Road.. On Preservation Road.

On Preservation Road.

On Preservation Road.

Give up your dreams, live within your means.

This world feels the same to me.

I ripped out my heart, put something else in its place.

Nobody is the same, you never really know on Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

It isn't how I remember, not like it will be.

It isn't how I remember or what it means to me on Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

It isn't how I remember, not like it will be.

It isn't how I remember or what it means to me on Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

Preservation Road.

We tried.

I work, I work in the media industry and you know, as an engineer, but.

But I still meet people who, you know, they do it for the wrong reasons.

And I think, hopefully, it conveys when we play that, that we're doing it from a place of, of sincerity, like I, you know, I'm not I don't want to knock people who play, who play cover songs in bars and, and do it because there's a, there's a, there's a gear for that.

But these songs are the same as if I, you know, that's wh I think I don't play them live because there's wounds there.

There's, there's, there's pai there in a lot of these songs.

And so at least know that these were written from a place of truthfulness and realness and they're not, and I, I think I would write catchier songs if if that's what I was going for.

I'm not listening.

>>Thanks for joining us for this episode of Melrose in the Mix featuring The Left Joins.

We'll see you again soon fo another live recording session here in the Melrose Cente at the Orlando Public Library.