In
1987 Bill Callahan of Smog went on a freighter cruise.
"I don't know if you know what these are," Bill says,
"It's these bargesyou see out in the ocean that don't ever
look like they're moving. They are full of cinnamon or raw wicker,
some cargo like that, and they sell a few berths. There were
spaces for seven passengers on the one I went on. For six weeks
I was on that thing with my cousin Lee, a couple retirees with
absolutely nothing to do and a guy who turned out to be a famous
crime novelist who was there to work on his next book. My parents
had insisted that I needed to cool my wheels because I was getting
into some trouble, as was Lee. So we went to Papeete, Tuamotu,
Suva.
When we €nally pulled back into Baltimore's harbor, I was struck
by one thing: the smog. The skyscrapers came in a close second,
but they sort of looked like seashells to me. The seashells
I'd been collecting at all the ports. But the smog made me say,
'I live in smog.' And that stuck with me. I had been writing
some 'instant songs' while on the journey, short things i could
dilute the sea fever with.
When I got home my parents presented me with a bill for 2 grand
so I decided to make a record to make some quick cash. Four
years later I had the two grand to pay them back. That was my
€rst album, SEWN TO THE SKY, which came I was like a caged animal
set free after that. Roaming the world with a variety of pick-up
bands and making a record wherever I could."
