Ever been in a relationship where you didn’t feel heard? Or one where you’re hoping that your partner would notice the pain they’re causing, and not have to be told? Of course you have! We all have. Well, that pretty much universal experience is what inspired me to write, “You Don’t Know.” In my Nashville circle of fellow songwriters, some told me that it was odd to have the singer be male, as if boys didn’t have the inner machinery to feel these things. Well, I pitched the song to Wynonna Judd and a couple of other female artists I could get to through their publishers, but they didn’t bite. So I decided to just release it myself as part of my first album, A Step Along the Way.

But what’s cool about this newer iteration is the addition of cello (Ron De La Vega) and piano (Dave Hoffner). Both of these seasoned Nashville session players put down gorgeous parts, and since then, I can’t “hear” this song without those wonderful enhancements. All of this on top of some decent singing and guitar work by me, and my favorite (so far!) harmony part by Gina Lynette. If you’ve heard the original version, I think you might appreciate its transformation.

You Don’t Know

©2012 Ned Andrew Solomon

Recorded at: Azalea Studios, Nashville, TN

Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

Music: Ned Andrew Solomon and Dan Holloway

Lyrics: Ned Andrew Solomon

Acoustic Guitar, Vocals: Ned Andrew Solomon

Piano: Dave Hoffner

Cello: Ron de la Vega

Harmony Vocals: Gina Lynette

Videography: Bernie Lynette

Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

Verse 1:

You don’t know how close I came

To never coming home again

You don’t know

You don’t know

Verse 2:

Yeah, I was halfway out of town

Before I turned this car around

But you don’t know

You don’t know

Chorus 1:

You don’t know that I can’t leave

Cuz part of me wants to believe that

You don’t know

You hurt me so

Verse 3:

You don’t see my crying eyes (crying eyes)

You don’t see how hard I try

You don’t see

You don’t see

Verse 4:

You don’t hear the slamming door (slamming door)

You don’t hear the silence roar

You don’t hear

I don’t know how you don’t hear

Chorus 2:

You don’t know that I can’t leave

Cuz part of me still believes that

You don’t know

You hurt me so

Bridge:

One night late my heart will break

And my private pain will scream awake

And the wind will howl

And the walls will shake

And then you’ll know

Oh, then you’ll know

Verse 1 repeat:

You don’t know how close I came (close I came)

To never coming home again

You don’t know

You don’t know

You don’t know

You don’t know

You don’t know

I don’t know how you don’t know

You don’t know

“Carrying Water” is based on an ancient Zen Buddhist proverb, “chop wood, carry water,” which refers to the necessity of doing the required mundane tasks, no matter how spiritual or prosperous a person is. My mom was fond of saying, “there are no overnight successes;” my wife Gina likes to say, “somebody’s gotta sell the soap!” My “overnight success” at producing a double album’s worth of original compositions in three years’ time is really a lifelong education in listening to music, playing guitar publicly since I was 10 years old, leading rock and acoustic bands, recording in studios since my late teens, and playing in many lovely venues, but also in terrible bars and clubs for little or no money. I moved to Nashville in October of 1988 to pursue a career in songwriting, and spent five, long years playing at Writer’s Nights and humbling myself in meetings with producers and publishers who did nothing to promote my career.

Electric Ned & The Danger Babies, Volume 1 and 2 would not have happened without collaborating with a handful of incredible Nashville session players, the engineering and production skills of Fett at Azalea Music Studios, and the support and graphic talents of my life partner, Gina. Oh, and a whole lot of chopping wood and carrying water.

I am proud to say the exquisite photography that accompanies this music video is not an AI creation. Every scene was filmed by my dear friend of fifty-five years, nature lover and documentarian, Herb Saperstone. I was surprised with this video as a gift for my 69th birthday, just in time for the release of these two albums.

Carrying Water

©2025 Ned Andrew Solomon

Recorded at Azalea Studios, Nashville

Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

Acoustic & Electric Guitars: Ned Andrew Solomon

Bass: Fett

Piano & Strings: Dave Hoffner

Drums & Percussion: Ron Krasinski

Videography & Video Production: Herb Saperstone

Executive Production: Gina Lynette

Next Best Emotion is an upbeat, jazzy instrumental that Fett calls, “Two minutes and fifty-eight seconds of pure joy.” I liked the chord progressions developed in this piece, and I think it’s one of my more interesting and surprising bridges, but I couldn’t figure out the rhythm to save my life. Enter session drummer Ron Krasinski, who, intuitively, gave it the percussive architecture it needed. When that all came together in the recording studio I was elated.

The song title is based on The Abraham-Hicks Emotional Guidance Scale, which I only know about because my very smart and learned wife, Gina, explained it to me. In layman’s (my) terms, the concept is that you should strive for the “next best emotion.” Moving from the deepest depression to ecstatic joy is a huge jump, and not likely to last. Instead, you might move gradually from depression or despair to anger – the next best emotion – because being mad at someone else is a step up from hating yourself. The goal is not instant happiness, but to feel just a little bit better than you did before. I love this concept, which is why I chose it for the title.

    Next Best Emotion

    ©2025 Ned Andrew Solomon

    Recorded at Azalea Studios, Nashville

    Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

    Acoustic & Electric Guitars: Ned Andrew Solomon

    Bass: Fett

    Piano: Dave Hoffner

    Drums: Ron Krasinski

    Videography: Bernie Lynette

    Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

I have been inspired by so many musical artists, representing a dozen different genres, throughout my life. I listen to music practically 24/7 and even sleep with a headphone headband. I replay favorites, make a hundred playlists, and keep discovering the incredible songwriting talents of so many new, young artists. It’s really hard at 69 years old, because none of my contemporaries share my passion for artists like Holly Humberstone, Sam Fender, The 1975, Gretta Ray, and Emily James – or even know who these people are, especially with so much fragmented listening.

But even my contemporaries know about and appreciate Led Zeppelin for their place in the evolution of modern music, and their astounding ability to put hard, loud, driving rock songs like “Four Sticks,” or “Kashmir,” next to blues romps like “You Shook Me,” or “Since I’ve Been Loving You,” next to gorgeous folk songs like “Going to California.” And sometimes, they do both in the same song, like my personal favorite, “The Rain Song.” There’s something about Jimmy Page’s guitar chord voicings on this song that really move me. So, that is why this composition is called “Inspired by Rain.”

    Inspired by Rain

    ©2025 Ned Andrew Solomon

    Recorded at Azalea Studios, Nashville

    Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

    Acoustic & Electric Guitars: Ned Andrew Solomon

    Bass: Fett

    Piano: Dave Hoffner

    Cello: Ron de la Vega

    Drums & Percussion: RP Chester

    Videography: Bernie Lynette

    Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

In an earlier period of my life I was way into the music of Todd Rundgren. I always appreciated that this artist could write lovely pop gems like “I Saw the Light,” “Can We Still Be Friends?” and “Hello, It’s Me,” and be the same artist that wrote some loud rockers like “Black Maria,” “Utopia Theme,” and “Bang the Drum All Day.” One rocker in particular really caught my ear: “Determination.” It was driving, with terrific rhythm and lead guitar parts. I loved and still love it.

I’d been playing around with the main guitar theme for about a year, and it just couldn’t find a home. Then one day I sat down with my Dolphin Gray Strat and played the lick much more up-tempo. Suddenly, the homeless lick became a “verse” (funny to talk about verses in an instrumental piece, but that’s how Fett and I describe it.) Once that locked in, the “bridge” appeared.

The name, “Catch and Release,” stemmed from what I thought was a very “tight” verse, musically, transitioning into a much more “open” bridge. The verses make me feel “caught,” and the bridges “release” the tension. Maybe you’ll see what I’m talking about, but even if you don’t, I hope you’ll enjoy it!

    Catch and Release

    ©2025 Ned Andrew Solomon

    Recorded at Azalea Studios, Nashville

    Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

    Acoustic & Electric Guitars: Ned Andrew Solomon

    Bass and Percussion: Fett

    Drums and Percussion: Ron Krasinski

    Videography: Bernie Lynette

    Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

When I was initially playing with the main guitar theme, I was accompanied by – inspired by? – the Jimmy Buffettesque, RP Chester feel and rhythm that “anchors,” no pun intended, the melody. This particular RP track had the option of adding an actual – emulated? – wave, moving over the beach in some Margaritaville locale. So, the title, “Wave Lullaby,” seemed to fit the atmosphere perfectly.

But then, when it came time to record it, we decided, inexplicably, to remove the faux wave sound. Maybe we were thinking it was too corny? You’re asking a man with advancing dementia to remember what we were thinking? (Side note: future listeners will hear this same corny faux wave sound on an instrumental I wrote and recorded, the corny-titled, “Liquid Sunrise.”)

There’s a conversation between artist and videographer at the end of the video, where they consider how short the song is. It’s pretty humorous, and completely unstaged. Here’s the best part: the song was about 30 seconds shorter before Fett suggested we repeat two sections! It was barely a ditty! Hmm…”Wave Ditty?”

Wave Lullaby

    ©2025 Ned Andrew Solomon

    Recorded at Azalea Studios, Nashville

    Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

    Acoustic & Electric Guitars: Ned Andrew Solomon

    Bass: Fett

    Drums: RP Chester

    Videography & Commentary: Bernie Lynette

    Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

When I first brought this song to Fett near the end of 2025, he told me, “I could never play that song.” I suppose it has a fairly complex finger-picking pattern that I play with a pick, but it wasn’t complex to me, because I had been using this technique for about 60 years. It was 2nd nature to me, automatic, muscle memory stuff. But ask me to break it down, or teach it to someone else, and I’m lost. I used to joke that I had to come up with my own originals, because it was too hard to learn someone else’s!

Of course with anything that you’re passionate about and have spent years practicing, some things come easily; they’re in your wheelhouse. There are countless things that Fett does behind his magical sound board where I’ve said the exact same thing: “I could never do that.” I’m in awe of drummers, but I cannot coordinate more than one limb beating at a time.

Winter Waltz is a folk song with classical leanings, buoyed by Ron de la Vega’s gorgeous cello part. I heard Ron’s cello on this the minute I completed writing the song. Fett’s lovely bass part establishes the groove, with some very subtle percussion for an additional flavor.

I have tried my whole musical life to not repeat myself. I probably could have written a hundred more songs if I didn’t make an extra effort to change things up, try new rhythms, explore unique chord progressions. “Winter Waltz” is as different as they come.

    Winter Waltz

    ©2025 Ned Andrew Solomon

    Recorded at Azalea Studios, Nashville

    Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

    Acoustic Guitars: Ned Andrew Solomon

    Bass & Percussion: Fett

    Cello: Ron De La Vega

    Videography: Bernie Lynette

    Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

It may come as a surprise to some that my greatest musical influence is, and always has been, Joni Mitchell. I have deeply steeped myself in her compositions and recordings since I was 14, and I have owned or listened to all her albums (19 studio albums, plus live albums, and compilations).

When many people think about Joni Mitchell, they’re familiar with her first two groundbreaking releases A Song to a Seagull and Clouds – both beautiful, folk albums – or her wonderful radio hits, like “You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio,” “Help Me,” or “Big Yellow Taxi,” to name a few. Those who have followed her music throughout her career recognize her jazzy and jazz years – accompanied by stellar instrumentalists from both coasts, and even a short stint with techno pop, produced by one of her biggest lifetime fans, Thomas Dolby. There’s a reason she was able to attract long-time collaborators, like Pat Metheny, Jaco Pastorious, Wayne Shorter, Larry Klein, Tom Scott and the L.A. Express, and why the often-ornery Charles Mingus worked with her to put lyrics and vocals to some of his challenging compositions.

Besides giving me a lifetime of incredible music listening, Joni Mitchell has heavily influenced me in four distinct ways: my rhythmic and sometimes percussive guitar style; her lyrics and lyrical structure; her vocal phrasing; and her unusual chord voicings. So, in light of her many contributions to my entire original catalogue, I wrote this song for her. It may not sound like Joni Mitchell to some listeners, but believe me, she’s in there. Thank you for that, Joni.

Thank You, Joni

Music Copyright 2025, Ned Andrew Solomon

Recorded at Azalea Studios, Nashville

Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

Acoustic Guitars: Ned Andrew Solomon Bass: Fett

Piano: Dave Hoffner

Cello: Ron De La Vega

Drums: R.P. Chester

Videography: Bernie Lynette

Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

Reasons Why has been around for a while now. When our oldest two daughters were born, and then adopted into our family, I used to sing this song, acapella, to both girls when they were babies and then infants. We would sway slowly back and forth on a bench swing in the backyard of a house we were renting in Nashville. As a sleep-deprived new parent, the goal was to charm the girls into sleep, before I got there myself.

But that wasn’t what inspired me to write this song, given the chronology of events. I wrote this song for Gina, about twenty years before I met her. It constantly amazes me how so many of the songs I wrote, pre-Gina, have wound up telling our exact story. (That very same Gina sings beautiful harmonies on this track.) She and I have been twin flames since time immemorial, it seems.

I also dedicate this song to a long list of wonderful people, living and dead, who inhabited my life for some reason that I wasn’t privy too. I am eternally grateful to all of them.

Some of you may recognize this song from my First CD, A Step Along the Way. A couple of years back we added a gorgeous cello part by Nashville session player extraordinaire, Ron De La Vega. As with all things, there was a reason why Fett suggested Ron DLV for this session. It would wind up being the first one of many majestic Ron Legacy Music Project contributions.   

Reasons Why

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2012, Ned Andrew Solomon

Recorded at: Azalea Studio, Nashville, TN

Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

Acoustic Guitars & Vocals: Ned Andrew Solomon

Cello: Ron de la Vega

Harmony Vocals: Gina Lynette

Videography: Bernie Lynette

Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette

Verse 1:

There are reasons why

There are always reasons why

Why we do what we do

Verse 2:

When they first appear

It may not be clear to you

Why we do what we do, but

Chorus:

There are no accidents

God thinks things through

That’s how I met you

Verse 3:

There are reasons why

There are always reasons why

Though they’re hard to explain

Verse 4:

Like a cloudless sky

And a sudden summer rain

We needed that rain, cuz

Chorus:

There are no accidents

God thinks things through

That’s how I met you

Instrumental interlude

Bridge:

I live my life in moments

Day by day

That’s where I was

When you were sent my way

Verse 1 repeats:

There are reasons why

There are always reasons why

Why we do what we do

Verse 2 repeats:

When they first appear

It may not seem clear

Why we do what we do, but

Chorus:

There are no accidents

God thinks things through – well, yes, He does

There are no accidents

God thinks things through

That’s how I met you

That’s how I met you

Fall Samba is one of the earliest – maybe even the second? – songs I composed after I relearned to play guitar in 2023. I’m assuming it was autumn when I wrote it. (That’s one of the things about my particular dementia characteristics: the passage of time has become very blurry. Gina bought me a clock that shows the day of the week, the time, and the date in huge numbers and letters, and this is extremely helpful for navigating through a single day, but a day ago could seem like a week ago, and vice versa. Retirement with its many less demands contributes to time fuzziness, too.)  

The non-lyric vocals toward the end of the song came about much later in the creation process. I kept hearing it whenever I played the strictly instrumental version, so I tried my best to replicate what I was hearing, with some echo-magic from Fett.

Like several of the songs written in this latter phase of my life, Fall Samba has a soulful, Latin beat, which I’ve said before harks back to my love of the old song, “Mixed-Up Shook-Up Girl,” as performed by Willy (Mink) DeVille. I can’t help it. It’s in my blood. So please feel free to do your best moves with my music in the background; it was entirely intentional.

Gratefully,

Ned Andrew

Fall Samba

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2023, Ned Andrew Solomon

Recorded at: Azalea Studio, Nashville, TN

Recording, Engineering, & Production: Fett

Acoustic & Electric Guitars & Vocals: Ned Andrew Solomon

Bass & Percussion: Fett

Drums: CP Chester

Videography: Bernie Lynette

Executive & Video Production: Gina Lynette