David Lambert

David Lambert

BandCountryAmericana

Original country/southern rock/folk rock music. Tells the local and regional history and a few modern day romance songs for a little variety...

Biography

Born in the small upstate Spartanburg town of Pacolet, South Carolina in late 1962, I’m the son of a retired high school principal and coach, and, a retired secretary for both the local rock quarry and the church. I believe I may have come as a surprise to my parents, who already had two daughters, ages, 9 and 13. My oldest sister got a cheap acoustic guitar for Christmas one year and all it did was make me want to learn to play that “thing” as I called it at about age 4 or 5 I always had plenty to do to keep me busy while growing up in what started out as a two room house built by my great grandfather, “Captain Turner,” the real Railroad Man, section boss for the then Southern Railroad in one of my songs. His fiddle is still around and in good hands but I am trying to get it in MY hands for safe keeping. I was surrounded by music in all forms; folk songs, hymns, early rock and roll, mainly the Beatles, Steppenwolf and CCR. Started officially playing music in the 5th grade by learning the coronet, then later the trumpet, playing with the marching bands of both Pacolet High School and then on to Broome High School. Mama finally bought me a cheap electric guitar of my own at age 13. I had to string it up backwards since I have to play left handed. I found an old Mel Bay guitar instruction book and started teaching myself to play bass-ackwards as it were. When I was about 15 I played in a four piece little band with a few buddies which only lasted 8-9 months One of my fondest memories was to go help out on my sister and brother in law’s dairy farm in Pauline during the summers. The real good part of this was being able to listen to the Marshall Tucker Band practicing way off in the distance while we gathered up bales of hay during summer afternoons. I also worked a little while in a cotton mill when in the junior year of high school on what was called the mini-shift. I worked in the card room mainly but would work the third shift on most Friday nights in any area that was short handed; opening room, weaving or anywhere else in the mill. That time in the mill will always be a fond memory. One by one, they have more or less all been closed since then. A good many of them are still standing, but long since silent. They stand cold and still like a reminder of some broken promise waiting to be honored. Some were torn down and others fell prey to arson but their memories remain. So yeah - I have earned the title, 'Lint-Head,' and am proud of it... I finally bought me a good Washburn acoustic that I still play a good bit for writing songs. I did get a few chances to play in a semi-formal music group during my Army years as part of the chapel services and other off-the-cuff 'jam' sessions. Twenty years later, I guess you can say time changes all; retired from the Army as Colonel, divorced, re-married and finally back into music listening and playing country and a little Southern rock. Throughout separation and divorce, music became a way to handle the dark and lonely times. Songs such as Alan Jackson’s “Hole In The Wall” and many others really hit-home per se’, and, made me listen to the complete song as it was meant to be heard. I should have known that a family tradition started by my great grandfather was going to come back full circle one more time. I met and married a wonderful lady from a local little town called Union, just like he did with the ‘local doctor’s daughter…’ I finally started to play more and more again and knock off the years of rust from the fingers, bought another guitar or two, couple of amps and trying to do a little song writing. I try to write from the heart and soul of life and its experiences, both good and bad, that forge one’s character. I can say I credit the wife for stoking the coals a bit in the music area since she is a die-hard music lover to say the least The lady who basically does not take ‘no’ for an answer more or less drug me to Charlotte one night to hear Chris Knight perform. After hearing Chris do one of his solo acoustic shows, you may as well have thrown gas on the fire as far as music singing/songwriting goes. I started writing and producing some of my own stuff after that. CD is almost fully ready to release with the title track, By The Carolina Moon. I’ve got enough life experiences and observations down here in the South Carolina, red clay Piedmont area to smoke a pencil lead or two…

Lyrics

Ain't Enough Whiskey

Written By: David Lambert

Sometimes I find it hard to understand,
What drives a woman and a man together or away,
We said goodbye in Dallas,
Said you were going back to L.A.,
This bottle ain’t got no answers anyway,

There ain’t enough whiskey, In this big old lone star state,
To drown this hollow heart of mine,
It emptied out the day you went away,
There ain’t enough whiskey, No there ain’t enough whiskey,
No there ain’t enough liquor here,
In the entire lone star state,

I climbed on back up in my cab,
Got a load due up in Caroline, I’ll burn I-20 from end to end,
And try to drive you off my mind,
Listen to eighteen wheels whine,
Let the miles fade your memory away,

There ain’t enough whiskey, In this big old lone star state,
To drown this hollow heart of mine,
It emptied out the day you went away,
There ain’t enough whiskey, No there ain’t enough whiskey,
No there ain’t enough liquor here,
In the entire lone star state,

There ain’t enough whiskey, In this big old lone star state,
To drown this hollow heart of mine,
It emptied out the day you went away,
There ain’t enough whiskey, No there ain’t enough whiskey,
No there ain’t enough liquor here,
In the entire lone star state,

Railroad Man

Written By: David Lambert

Round about eighteen eighty eight, a young man moved down from the tar-heel state,
Found a room in a boarding house, in the middle of a small upstate town,
Went to work as a railroad hand with a growing Southern Railway Line,
Laying new tracks, hauling cotton and coal, railroad man was, ready to roll,

He rode a black steel dragon breathing white hot fire, shaking the ground down a winding track,
Dragging loads down the tracks and coming back in to pull another time,
Lonesome whistle calling through the night, sawing his fiddle to the engine’s whine,
Saw sights unseen and heard stories untold,
That was mighty fine riding for a railroad man,

Hard years of work started paying off, they made that man a new section boss,
Seasoned and tough as a long steel rail, got himself tamed by a southern belle,
Local doctor’s daughter smiled his way, stopped that railroad man’s train on a dime,
5 acres of land and a two room house, started building their own little Southern line,

He rode a black steel dragon breathing white hot fire, shaking the ground down a winding track,
Dragging loads down the tracks and coming back in to pull another time,
Lonesome whistle calling through the night, sawing his fiddle to the engine’s whine,
Saw sights unseen and heard stories untold,
That was mighty fine riding for a railroad man,

He rode a black steel dragon breathing white hot fire, shaking the ground down a winding track,
Dragging loads down the tracks and coming back in to pull another time,
Lonesome whistle calling through the night, sawing his fiddle to the engine’s whine,
Saw sights unseen and heard stories untold,
That was mighty fine riding for a railroad man,

That was mighty fine riding for a railroad man,

The Speed Of Lonely

Written By: David Lambert

Heard the internet news today, Some old record just went by the way,Fastest land speed or home run count, Now I got one I wanna’ beat out, It happens every time I’m away from my baby,Can’t bat an eye before it’s done kicked in, It stays way out front, and drives me crazy, Won’t slow down till I can be with you, Gotta get you to help me say we can finally break, The speed of lonely. Maybe I need one of them foreign cars, A jet plane or a rocket train, Old truck of mine might break 88, Oh damn, flashing blues in my rear view… Police asked where is the fire son?, Clocked you doing a hundred one, Stuck me good when all I could say was, Boy I got me a record to break, It happens every time I’m away from my baby,
Can’t bat an eye before it’s done kicked in, It stays way out front, and drives me crazy, Won’t slow down till I can be with you, Gotta get you to help me say we can finally break, The speed of lonely.One day I’m gonna break, The speed of lonely …

Discography

Have a current CD in final phases of production, "By The Carolina Moon." Have mixed 11 of the tracks at Studio 151 in Inman, SC.

Set List

Varies; typically 12 of mine and a few covers.