The Quarry Island Sessions — Out Everywhere Now!
What happens when a three day visit to friends in Nova Scotia turns into a three month quarantine on a tiny island?
Well, if you happen to be a musician and you happen to have brought some recording equipment with you, and if your friends happen to have a whimsical creative space with the makings of a recording studio, chances are you going to want to record an album.
The Quarry Island Sessions is named for the island that served as the inspiration and incubator for the project. With 11 songs written and recorded over 11 weeks, the album unfolds as a sort of musical diary, telling stories of the early months of the 2020 pandemic.
The album features the many musical oddities on hand in the “Play House” — including a century old upright piano, a 1970's theater organ, percussion instruments collected over decades from across the world, an autoharp that wouldn’t stay tuned, and a flute that had been sitting in its case for twenty years.
Nat collaborated with his Canadian “quaranteam”, the Fraser Family, as well as remotely with a number of fellow musicians in lockdown back in NYC.
The endeavor results in a unique collection of songs that unfolds as a musical diary, capturing the anxieties, experiences, and revelations of the moment.
Written as a week-by-week reflection, the album documents a highly dynamic time, both for Nat and the wider world.
The songs tackle a range of ideas and emotions, each one employing a different style and genre to do so.
Each week brought unique challenges and opportunities for Nat, both creatively and technically.
In addition to working remotely with musicians hundreds of miles away, this was the first album Nat ever self-recorded and self-produced.
Writing a song a week, every week, also proved to be a massive creative undertaking.
The album has some rough edges, which are integral to the character of the project.
The first track on the album, “No Rest”, is a reflection on how in our normal day to day grind there's simply… no rest.
No chance to slow down. No time to process what's going on underneath. Little chance for mental health.
Something that's become apparent after the stark contrast of quarantine stasis.
Week 2 yielded "Grateful" a song about reflection, forgiveness, and appreciating your scars.
It's about how you carry a piece of every love you've ever had with you even after they're gone. How, in so many ways, you're better for having loved and lost.
The idea for track 3, “Little Friend” came from a solo walk around Quarry Island the Frasers’ sweet pup Lola. It’s about how wonderful it is to have a little friend with you who is blissfully unaware of the troubles that weigh you down like work, or say, a global pandemic.
The song wanted to straddle the line between being folky and funky, a hard line to walk. It needed some fiddle and some lushness, so it was sent off to the inimitable Camellia Hartman — Camellia sent back pure gold.
This song tries to be earnest, heartfelt and not cheesy — perhaps it strays into that territory a bit but in the end, a little cheese can taste just fine.
Track 4, “Spotlight”, is in some ways a reflection on time and mortality, and how ego can get in the way of progress and creation. All this death and sickness begs the question — what would you do if you had a known limited amount of time on this earth, and what would we do and create if we had all the time in the world to do it?
A handful of incredibly talented music makers lent their talents to this one. Aimee Bayles sang harmonies and Camellia Hartman was back at it this week with the violin. Danielle Warman was a mix advisor.
In week 5, there was a mass shooting, the largest in Canadian history, less than an hour from the Playhouse in Quarry Island. It was also a cold, wet, grey week, that tested the limits of optimism.
“Low” was born in this moment, as a reminder that it’s okay to be down — to be quiet, to be sad, to grieve and feel the pain if that’s what you need to do.
In some ways, Low was a departure from the rest of the album so far — a hymn, entirely a cappella — but it was what felt right in the moment, and in some ways captured the essence of the project.
The accompanying cover art ended up becoming the basis of the album’s cover art.
Week 6 was a big one, with a total of 9 collaborators coming together to produce “What I’m Doing Right”
The Lieutenant Governor of Texas Dan Patrick said in an interview
“…there are more important things than living,”
which underscored the way that people at the top often undervalue and disregard human life and served as inspiration for this energetic and groovy track, which draws musical inspiration from New Orleans.
In week 7, Nat’s beloved grandmother Michelle “Shelly” Osborn, pictured on the accompanying art, suffered a stroke and was hospitalized.
While longing to hold his grandmother’s hand and grappling with the fear that he wouldn’t have a chance to say goodbye to her, Nat wrote “Michelle”, a slow and melodic ode to the one-of-a-kind matriarch of the Osborn family.
Though it seemed for a time that she would pull through, Shelly passed away on June 9th, 2020, while Nat was still locked down in Nova Scotia. Nat’s sister Madeleine spent the night before in the hospital, holding Shelly’s hand.
Shelly is pictured in the accompanying photograph with her late husband, O’Neill Osborn, whose brown eyes Nat shares.
