FUTURE DREAM

Wooden WandWooden Wand 

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Wooden Wand

Wooden Wand is the stage name of singer-songwriter James Jackson Toth, who has recorded under his given name as well as the name WAND. The style of music recorded by Toth and his many incarnations has drawn on a variety of both conventional and experimental folk and rock influences, including psychedelic folk, freak folk and indie. Though he was a significant player in the New Weird America trend of the early to mid-2000s along with Devendra Banhart, Akron/Family, Joanna Newsom, and collaborators The Vanishing Voice, Toth has been difficult to pigeonhole in one genre; recent releases have been identified as acid folk, free jazz, outlaw country, and country-tinged rock. Toth has appeared on labels including Kill Rock Stars, Ecstatic Peace!, Rykodisc, and Young… more »

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In a dream I met the fabled old witch of Endor
A crisis apparition who hovered over the floor
I was lifted from my pillow and was led on a tour
She said “I’ll show what you’ve been losing so much sleep for” 
I said “Sure”

We sat down to dinner near the company store
She pulled a blade on the cook who was quicker on the draw
She started with five fingers, now she was down to just four
She said “I did that just to illustrate the desperation of the poor” 
I said “Show me more”

Is there nothing more than this for me?
Is there nothing more to this than me?

The streets ran with blood (this was hard to ignore)
There were so many faces, they were all caked with gore
And the sky was the color of the earth's molten core
Something came from the black and threw a mark on my back - Oh, my lord!

I met Bronwyn and Isis, I met Odin and Thor
And they treated me as holy but I felt like a whore
And half my friends bandied on the side of Murphy's Law
The witch said “Is this what you want? Is this what you’ve bargained for?” 
I said “Not sure”

I was hoisted to pulpit but I couldn’t play a chord
My mother and father looked jittery and bored
my children--all twenty--bled from every pore
But the incubi and succubae who kept writing down scores screamed for more

Is there nothing more than this for me
Is there nothing more to this than me

I closed my eyes but they just burned even more
My brow felt just like the asphalt in Lenore 
My brain was the stuff of neurological lore
But when they asked if I was alright to steer the ship toward the shore 
I said “Sure”

So the witch, slightly daunted, escaped through the door
Back to the hills of Moray, back to the mountain Tabor
But she left me the choice to keep friend of keep score
And I rolled into a ball and I pondered it all - it meant war

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