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I was born in Eugene, Oregon. We moved around a lot when I was growing up and finally settled in St. Paul, Minnesota. Music was very important to me as early on as I can remember. I never liked school, so when college only lasted a year it was no surprise. I had bigger dreams of finding my own experiences and wisdom elsewhere. I spent four months on a sailboat with a retired federal judge. I had started writing some songs, and on the drive back to Minnesota I wrote the rest of what would become my first record, “El Camino Blues.” I had gotten to know Greg Brown a bit, and I asked him to sing with me on the record. Dean Magraw, Peter Ostroushko and Tony Glover got in on the project as well. We recorded that album in one day in my mother’s living room. From there I started touring and did support for Alejandro Escovedo, Greg Brown, Dave Van Ronk and Fred Eaglesmith.
Being on the road gave me a lot to work with in terms of writing. The realities of the human condition became a huge part of my subject matter. Stories and characters quickly turned themselves into songs and the dark side of lives with strife became a common theme in the songs I began writing for my second record, “Living in the Ground.” I got together with Bo Ramsey, Dave Moore. And Steve Hayes of Iowa City and recorded the record in a 5 hour session.
The third record, “Hollerin’ at a Woodpecker” comes from a time away from both the road and performing. I got sick of all the commercialism, dirty hotels and false hopes. The stories I was writing and the ideas I was having came purely from within my own head, as opposed to coming from the road, or people I was meeting. “Hollerin’” was listed as MOJO’s #3 Americana album of the year for 2003, and was also UNCUT Americana album of the month. I wrote this record secluded in a cabin in the woods, but it has brought me to see more places than I imagined possible.
The coming release is “Stories Under Nails.” This collection will be released in Europe, Australia, and Japan on Fargo Records (Paris). It is currently scheduled to be released in the US on my own label Fugawee Bird Records on Sept 7th 2004. It has already been featured as Americana album of the month in MOJO and a feature 4 star feature review in UNCUT and RollingStone Germany.
Over 4 records I have seen the darkness of the music industry. My goal is to tour my ass off, and keep this as independent as I can, within the family so to speak. We will beat the bastards at their own game, with pureness of heart. The rest is in the songs. Thanks.
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“Ben Weaver is the most exciting young songwriter I’ve come across, an American original whose voice and guitar are matched only by the power of his words. His songs are an incredible, haunting gift of music.”
LARRY BROWN
"Big Ben Weaver is 24, has a beard and a dog and favours the woods of Northern Minnesota. For once, the work clothes tell a story. He's a startling new talent..."
Ross Fortune, TIMEOUT (London)
"...strange, skin-prickling tales picked up from the Moebius strip of a lost highway he's been compelled to travel on.... like a hillbilly Leonard Cohen."
Sylvie Simmons, MOJO
"...his raw, art-damaged vocal screeds are riveting, invigorating, illuminating."
Jim Musser, NO DEPRESSION
"Weaver's brand of youthful rebellion comes filtered through the mad-staring eyes of a corn-chewing old-timer."
Henry Day, Q
"Weaver's voice - which makes Lee Marvin sound like Aled Jones - lends biblical portent to the most mundane detail. A one-man Brothers Grimm with no happy endings. Enjoy."
**** UNCUT
"Ben Weaver makes Nick Cave look like a new wave poseur."
JIM BARBER, Producer (Ryan Adams, The Tom Collins, Courtney Love)
"Ben Weaver is the most exciting young songwriter I've come across, an American original whose voice and guitar are matched only by the power of his words. His songs are an incredible, haunting gift of music."
Author Larry Brown (Fay, Big Bad Love)
"Weaver's been hanging out in America's forgotten corners, crafting these musical postcards that recall a rural Tom Waits, or Greg Brown in his dark, bluesy moments. He's like that spooky old guy who lives in a trailer but tells amazing stories."
Keith Goetzman, UTNE
"...elusive, sometimes contradictory poetic imagery with phrases like 'dead sunlight' and sentiments like 'the closer I get to Heaven the quicker they shut that door' figuring prominently... bleak, but oddly compulsive."
Ian Cranna, Q
Kay Clary Commotion PR Nashville, Tenn. 615-467-6677email kay@commotionpr.com~
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Grieve all you want
I left a cloud of dust down every road
I saw my future reflected in every blade of snow
I was born with these two feet so as to follow my heart
And in the end they lead me to you
Blind in the darkness
We crash through one another
You can grieve all you want
When you’re in the arms of your lover
The days always end side by side in our bed
The dog curled like a spoon between the wall and your legs
Sometimes the wind can blow holes through us
No matter how strong it blows you'll never be left behind
Blind in the darkness
We crash through one another
You can grieve all you want
When you’re in the arms of your lover
These days there is more behind us than there is ahead
We've grown old like the trees I was taller than when I was a kid
The road ain't always been clear, but like everything good in life
The pleasure comes with the pursuit
Blind in the darkness
We crash through one another
You can grieve all you want
When you’re in the arms of your lover
There will come a time when we both must leave
Each of us will weigh no more than the day we came
You like a ruby like the shadow of a falling star
Swallowed forever, with me forever by your side
Blind in the darkness
We crash through one another
You can grieve all you want
When you’re in the arms of your lover
Voice in the wilderness
I’m not gonna give you what you want to hear
I’m not gonna be with you in the end
It’s cold as the stars way down inside of me
You’re the voice that stands on the edge of the wilderness
Crying my god what should I do with this mess
My heart is the legs running inside my mind
Like a mad man I have lost any sense of time
I have slept under the overpass of Blue Avenue
In the people passing by I let go of you
Crying my god love is a bird dying in the sky so blue
Sometimes people are like god and they really don’t exist
Unless you aim for my heart you will always miss
You can hold a match to my love and it will always burn
In your arms I can make any 2 words rhyme
Crying my god this is a place these are strange times
When you wake up one morning I will be down the road
You won’t see me or hear or understand this song
When I wake up some mornings lying next to her
Say time is an arrow they say it heals the stitch
Crying my god this is a song for a love I can’t resist
The snow falls tonight on the horses back
And the light comes through the window like a stolen car
I wish you the best in everything you do
I love you with everything I have
Crying my god cant you see there’s no going back
Old Mission
From the banks of that old mission under a vein of sycamore
I lay like a switchblade reflecting the moon
Scraping the spine blood from a trout with the back of my thumb
Start a fire on the beach and just lay listening to it burn
Time is the river polishing the stone
Curiosity is faith with no backbone
An owl cuts your silhouette from the bark of an elm
And laces your boots with the twine from a scare crows belt
Pitch fork dreams and typewriter prayers
The wind catches and turns the spades of your windmill heart
Every time I thought I was lost
Just packed my bags and my chains fell off
I went into the woods like a cold hand goes into a glove
A salt box shack outlined by chimney smoke with parts of old cars laying out in the yard
Everyday the sun rakes through the window across my table across my floor
There’s a family of starlings living in the soffit over my front door
Sometimes I hide behind the man you think I’ am
But it’s only because I don’t want to come across anything like them
Ambition has destroyed my morals but time has given me grace
A kestrel Slaughterhouse birds sing behind all the cracks in my porcelain face
Wish I had a million bucks so I could at least say I threw it all away
Now my life is pitch black and I’m just counting down the days
Ask me if it burns ill show you the flame
Ask me if it bleeds ill show you the vein
My story hangs from the clothesline leaking dead sunlight all over my past
Youth has become the fabric the moth of old age destroys
There is no romance in a lonely heart and a frozen soul
But a dog does what he does because he’s a dog
I used to be skin and now I’m a soar
Closer I get to heaven quicker they shut the door
Sway with me
The paint cracked walls
Let in a little light
From the world next door
Where a husband beats his wife
Time stands still
Slaps you in the face
As their world tumbles down
You have finally found your place
It’s out in the country
A ways down the road
It’s up in the city
Hanging with the boys
Sway with me/ sway with me/ sway with me
You remember that girl from the sunshine state
And how she ran off with your heart
You remember the war inside your head
As the evening sky grows dark
Little churches swallow up the masses
The cold wind brings the dawn
That don’t mean I don’t lie in bed
Waiting for the day you’re in my arms
Sway with me/sway with me/sway with me
Ask the junkies on avenue A
The hippies in the small towns
They will all agree with you
They got no idea the shit going down
There’s sheet metal like a diamond ring
Chord wood on the lawn
Here is my heart in your hand
Now you can feel it pound
Here is my smile in your eyes
And it’s already gone
All I can really depend on
Is the fact that ill always be writing songs
Sway with me/sway with me/sway with me
If I need any light
I’ll be sure to let you know
In the end it was the traveling
That finally brought me home
No promises to keep
No promises to make
I can see the road I’m traveling down
I can’t see the end but I know the way
Sway with me/sway with me/sway with me
Everybody is mad
And nobody knows why
The cars pile up on the high way
And our souls slowly die
Lip stick and gasoline
Stain the knees of your pants
No matter how hard I try
I can’t wash you from my hands
Sway with me/sway with me/sway with me
In the end it comes down to a single minute
If you want to live or die
Just one decision
The difference between the wood and the fire
One day you have it all
Then suddenly you don’t have a thing
The faster that I run
The longer I know I’ll be here to sing
Sway with me/sway with me/sway with me
John Martin
Jon martin came from the country
With the one pair of decent clothes he owned on his back
He was headed into the city
To buy some fabric for his wife
The trip in took about half a day
So he figured upon spending the night
He planned to wake up early the next morning
And start home by dawns light
Jon Martin walked down Clark Street
Looking for a cheap hotel
A young man came walking up to him
He was dirty and worn down
Jon asked the young man
If he could recommend a nearby hotel
The young man told Jon his sister owned a place
A little southeast of where they stood
Jon Martin Followed the young man East on Cermak
The hotel was over on Michigan Ave
After watching Jon pay the man at the desk
The young man followed him to the Elevator door
He explained that he had no place to sleep
And wondered if he could use Jon’s hotel room floor for the night
There was something a little unnerving about the boy
But he seemed to have an honest face
Jon Martin agreed out of pity
Unaware that when he awoke
There would be nothing left in his room
Except the young boys ragged and dirty clothes
Fate seemed to be paper thin
And the Lords will seemed to be Miles Away
An honest face can hide the devils horns
Just as simple as a blind man can get lead down the wrong road
Jon Martin waited naked in his hotel room all day
For the boy with the honest face to come back
Finally Martin put the boys ragged clothes on
And went down to the lobby in attempt to try and explain his plight
When he pulled on those blowed out pants
They hung only a little below his knees
When the doors to the elevator parted
He was taken as an imposter and thrown head long into the street
The newsboys shouted out insults
Woman held tight to their husband’s arms
As Jon Martin tore down the streets
Word began to travel that a crazy man was running loose
Detective Spencer started in pursuit
And caught up to Martin on Polk Street
He took Martin to the Harrison Street station
Where he was given the chance to explain his case
Jon Martin was dismissed of any crime
And a philanthropist provided a suit fit for him to wear
Off to the east of Michigan Avenue
The great lake bulged in its dismal black and blue
The young man with an honest face
Sat behind a bar with a full head of booze
Jon Martin headed home to his farm
Holding the fabric he bought for his wife tight under his arm
Cold House
My heart is sitting on a fence
My mind is down the road
Light bulb swinging on a wire
Empty voice on the telephone
Key turning in the door
Footsteps on the floor
His face through the hole in my head
The blade of his body against mine
Strand of hair on my tongue
Raven perched on a pinto’s mane
Words falling like rain over a fire
Echoing out the door he just walked in
The love is always strongest
When I can’t look him in the eye
Passes like change through the floorboards
For somebody else to find
Cold days bring a cold house
Most days I don’t mind being alive
Done what I can to stay true
Only wish I could be in 2 places at one time
There’s a war on the TV
There’s a war in the flesh
All we can hope for each other
Somehow we can bring good from the regrets
Willows hang in the midnight
Your broken heart took a chip off the moon
Car idles at the intersection
Waiting for the green light to move on
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Like a wound
I love you like a wound
Like rain on a muddy road
High up in a dogs howl
Way down where the hot blood flows
Big dipper gravel road eyes
Old trucks that will never run
Washboard River for a past
The dark side of a held tongue
Everywhere I seem to go
Everywhere I been before
I carry the stone up the hill
Just to watch it roll back down
Your ma and pa sleep above the kitchen
Your dog sleeps with you on the floor
Travel brings more unknowns
Love brings the hand that holds
All the things our minds must do
And every bit of faith we hold onto
Deep in the woods underneath the sky
Out on the back roads for a nights drive
Everywhere I seem to go
Everywhere I been before
I carry the stone up the hill
Just to watch it roll back down
Scratching at my side door
Footprints frozen in the driveway snow
A promise ring bent from a table spoon
The feelings haunt me like a bad dream come true
There’s compromises every where you turn
So many different ways you can go
Can’t sit still like a bird on a fence
You can’t run from your own line of descent
Everywhere I seem to go
Everywhere I been before
I carry the stone up the hill
Just to watch it roll back down
The heart that feeds is the heart that grows
As the early dusk weaves among the corn rows
I can hear the way your voice would call my name
I can see into the darkness that is your precious bane
Left behind in a promise that you wrote
With a wet finger in the dust on my door
Just as a troubled mind yearns to be soothed
My love for you is just like a wound
Everywhere I seem to go
Everywhere I been before
I carry the stone up the hill
Just to watch it roll back down
40 Watt bulb
You can’t beat lightning with a 40 watt bulb
You can only go one direction once your backs to the wall
The scent in the air and the wind through the magnolia tree
The branches bend and drop petals at my feet
Street lights balance on the shadow of a lost dog’s tail
The sky looks like a table covered in fish scales
A black cat just crossed my path
Reminds me that today could be the last
It’s no wonder you hurt like a bent crow bar
It’s no wonder you runaway like dust from the saw
The curtains part like ruts down the old mill road
You can’t expect to hold on and at the same time let go
The sorrow is sweet like a ruby in a blind man’s ear
The truth is not forgiving no matter how convincing it seems
Time is naked as a mannequin but always dressed in style
After all this time between us can you forgive me now?
The world loves bad news when it comes from a pretty mouth
The earth groans in sorrow as the farmer hitches up his plough
I didn’t know what I had till I threw it all away
I took things past the point where there was anything left to save
From a car window I watched you drift downstream
But objects in the mirror are closer than they seem
From the outstretched wings of a dirty dove
There’s a knot only idiots tie and it’s called love
Handed down
In that hour of the day
When the walls sprout ears and the light drips away
I heard your mamma’s scream in the door
Your daddy passed out on the kitchen floor
The life gone from his body
Like a pigeon stealing bread from your hand
He left you alone to face a world
You was barely old enough to understand
Oh daddy’s boy don’t be sorry
His blood buried deep in the ground
His blood flowing through your veins
Handed down
Handed down
Some say that he worked harder
Than the mule that he plowed
Awake from his slumber
Long before the sun showed its face through the dark
He built the house you were born in
From trees he cut off his brother’s land
When you stood there beside him
Felt like he could fit you in the palm of his hand
They bury the blood of a dead man
Still alive in this ground
Take the front door from its hinges
Upon it they laid your daddy’s body down
There wasn’t a thing you could have done
To save him from his own chains
Now the earth lies still beneath the moon
And the stone where they carved his name
Out there in that holler
Where there’s no future or no past
And the whole world sits still
Balanced perfect on a blade of grass
You can see your daddy’s face
Foggy with heat from the days close
You can feel his beard brush your cheek
And his heart beating in your bones
Old Mule
They sat me up on an old mule
To carry me away
The mailbox stands empty
I got to use a hacksaw to cut through what you say
I jingle the keys to your cage in the cold of your heart
Like a jay I’m perched above you
Singing to the shadows of what we are
It’s all gone now, it’s all gone now
It’s all gone now, it’s all gone now
There’s a little silver in the mirror
Your world on a string
I still feel that same feeling
Without being able to see it in anything
When you speak you just mumble and then I turn away
I won’t get there tonight
I can assure you I’ll get there before I’m gray(it’s too late)
It’s all gone now, it’s all gone now
It’s all gone now, it’s all gone now
In leather and twine you weave your words
With my hands on your skin
The man stealing through the snow storm
Doesn’t know if it’s really this cold or if it’s just him
The first one to make a bet is always the last to know
I got the blood of a wind vein
Never know which way I am headed till she starts to blow
It’s all gone now, it’s all gone now
It’s all gone now, it’s all gone now
It’s like a friend of mine said
There’s really no going back
It’s like your busted radiator
We’ll let our love just slip through the cracks
I’m all gone now like the morning and the dove
Like the fortune pasted to your wall
I’m still everything you thought I was
Broken by 2
Sometimes I sit alone buddy
And wonder what it is were trying to do
The grave is dug alone
And the heart broken by two
It’s an old story to us
One we’ve heard 1,000 times through
In the dark green eyes of the soon to be dead
In the chances we took to always stay true
Drunk or sober dead or alive
I peer through the barn slats into my life
What I see is never a surprise
I’ve trained myself with a prize fighters mind
It’s an old story to us
We don’t fall even when the other does
We cross our hearts with a women’s touch
And go out the door to be alone
Guilt and grace skin and bone
We do what we do best and then we go home
Black and blue sun up or sun down
Someday the world will know when we are in town
Dear buddy here I sit
Writing these words to you
If I should fall will you lift me up
And carry me through the next tune
Ragged Words
These ragged words
These midnight eyes
These dust covered boots
This bent up lust
These young boys’ dreams
These mannish woes
These driftwood arms
These bottle lips
This train whistle voice
This eager love
This uncut beard
These achy arms
This longest look
This played out soul
This grain of truth
This musicians curse
This thorny kiss
This mangled path
This old truck groan
This steadiness
These oil dark notes
This lonely guess
This full moon moan
This highway smile
This lost dog heart
These reasons why
This entangled sleep
These shows I play
This rock and roll vein
This blue collar mouth
This angel’s idea
This road map home
These chain link prayers
This father’s word
This guitar money
This red light cigarette
This one desire
This bedroom rain
This blue electricity
These choke-cold bones
These optimistic regrets
This bus station wave
This sand and my name
This bare nakedness
This prize fighter jab
This falling grace
This antique tongue
This Midwest deal
This suitcase goodbye
These gas pedal eyes
This foolish hope
This small town stair
This strangled touch
These cowboy hands
Where ever you are
When ever you want
It is what it is
Sorrow and bliss
Your name across my chest
In a sky this blue
Where ever you are
This is a song for you
Words and music by Ben Weaver
Copyright 2003 Fugawee Bird Music ASCAP
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