EDIT: NOW! WITH WORKING LINKS!!!
Since the Silvergirl stuff went down a treat, I figured I'd regale you folks with some other stuff from the Jon Hunt Vault (smaller than the Disney Vault, but much much cooler -- and minus one cryogencially-frozen corpse).
Backstory: It's six-ish years ago. I'm at the ass-end of a marriage and my then-spouse is away from the house every night visiting, um, a "special friend" shall we say? (Daily Mail readers -- it's the small details that make the story!) Leaving me alone with my snoozing then-infant daughter and, at the time, a great deal of confusion and sorrow. What better time to make an album than in the throes of crippling depression, I say! I called over some of my friends from past bands (Brandon Dalida from Medication and Chris Hill from every band I was ever in except, like, one -- shout out, brotha!) as well as my awesome friend Jennifer Wedding, and the lot of us took a stab at making a "sprawling double album" on my shitty digital 16-track.
DISCLAIMER: this was a long time ago, and I had NO IDEA how to record instruments. I was learning on the fly. Consequently these songs -- while I'm very very proud of them! -- sound like they were recorded in oatmeal. I'm sorry. You'll like them anyway.
Return To Sender
This first one was supposed to sound like Ryan Adams' "Gold" record which I was in love with at the time, but my weedy vocals, attention to pop details and inability to sound like a heroin addict put it firmly in Byrds territory, which is, y'know, to be expected. The lyrics are pretty self-explanatory, and written early-on in the breakup process -- you know, what does it feel like when your love gets pretty much tossed back in your face? "I'll get used to it, but I feel like shit" -- blunt, right?
Do You Dig Her Scene
You wonder about the gender-flip in the chorus? Yeah. Well. Again, written pretty early on in the break-up process, just that notion of "hey, what the fuck do you feel about this other person, just be honest!" "I don't know the score, 'cause every single night you walk out of the door -- I awoke to the sound of our love crashing down." And that confusing double-talk you get during an affair -- "You, you're talking in rhyme, I wonder if our love has run out of time." It ain't Dylan but it makes its fucking point.
My favorite from these sessions.
At last, a happier thing, kind of. This was written slightly later, after I met Diablo. This is just lamenting the agony of a long-distance relationship. (Yes, I'm in another one. History repeats itself, don't it?) Anyway -- there's a BETTER mix of this thing out there that ends with a repeated cry of "Hello, Chicago" which I love -- but the same ex who was out every night took it upon herself to erase all my backing vocals on the various tracks and replace them with shitty, badly-sung tracks of her own at one point and various bits and bobs of songs got erased. I made this mix on the fly as I darted the fuck out of that mess, and that's why it lacks that. DAMMIT. Again -- sorry about the oatmeal.
ENJOY. For a while I had to kind of shelve these but I figure that since so much time has passed, they're good to go again.