So I had a lot of praise for Tanglewood Numbers last year, but as I usually do, I overplayed it and had to put it aside for awhile. On a long drive back and forth from Clackamas Lake (a body of water, which at best, merits the term pond) I gave it another listen. It's delightful to my ears again, I am happy to say. This time I paid more attention to the song Farmer's Hotel, a song about being stuck in Goshen, NY. I think Mr. Berman is under the influence of Mr. Lovecraft as evidenced by these lyrics:
I thanked the old codger, and in my role as the lodger,
I headed upstairs for to sleep.
there was no air of slumber, the doors they had no numbers
which room was intended for me?
the passage kept on going like the carpet was flowing
towards that thing at the end of the hall.
my own eyes had adjusted.
my account can be trusted,
cause I know that I saw what I saw.
I heard animal noises and tangled up voices
chanting more and of rumors of more.
there's no natural law that can explain what I saw
spread out on that straw-covered floor.
You the odd details that presage the nastiness. And as in Lovecraft, the nastiness cannot be fully described as it would return teller to lunacy and threaten the very sanity of the hearer. So instead Berman later warns us just to stay away. Now Berman is no Hetfield, I don't expect an ode to Cthulhu any time soon. But it is interesting to see that the crazy New Englander continues his (dark?) influence to this day.
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