The Fall isn’t an album about a season, or a departure from grace. Instead, Jesse Hammock finds his step, and its grace is tenfold thicker than ever, since he picked up a guitar a decade ago.
Telling the stories in this album, Jesse’s blade is sharper, and his tongue is still firmly planted in his cheek—as in previous Powder Mill fixtures. But this time around, his songs carry a heavier weight, spawned from a dose of heartache, the reality of making a hard dollar, always remembering that the hard life may be in the past, but never gone or forgotten, as he travels a path nobody could have predicted.
“With no obvious solution to the bumps in the road, it’s amazing what a person can do if they have to do it,” Jesse says. He admits to starting stubborn. “Thick as the head of a Missouri mule,” he laughs. “The way the chips fell, it made me a better person, a better daddy, and truth be known, it saved my life.”