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Tumblers & Grit

by Chris Richards

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    CD copy of Chris's 2nd full-length album, Tumblers & Grit.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Tumblers & Grit via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    edition of 999 

      $15 USD or more 


  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $11 USD


  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 10 Chris Richards releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Waikīkī, Red Dog Saloon, Wisconsin River, Ellie The Polar Bear, Afterlight, The Magic Line, Goldenwest, Landlocked!, and 2 more. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      $52 USD or more (20% OFF)


TO SING THE BLUES (Richards) Do you remember When our love was new? Brown-eyed and broken And just out of school And I was a singer Just paying my dues You made me play you Those happy songs Where love’s unending And nothing goes wrong And those were the only kind That I knew Till you taught me how To sing the blues Now I sing about The wicked ways of lovers I tell of all the cheating And the lies And the pain that comes Once you have discovered Just how hard it is To bury love that dies Now I play these dark songs I learned ‘em well Not from Blind Lemon Or from Willie McTell I guess all I needed Was someone like you You taught me how To sing the blues ©2002 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
Hard Livin' 03:30
HARD LIVIN' (Richards) It’s 11:37 on a Saturday night If the clock on the Microwave oven is right There’s six more hours Till the dawn’s early light And these are the ones that can Put up a fight and I’ve been lookin’ for a fight It’s twelve-hour shifts in the Foundry heat, then I’m done With the easiest part of my week ‘Cause when I’m not there I’m here at home Doin’ the things that you don’t Do alone and I’ve done all of them alone Alone... It’s hard livin’ Hard livin’ without you now Whiskey on my breath Sweat upon my brow Everybody says I’ll get over you – but how? It’s hard livin’ Without you now Don’t the tough get goin’ When the goin’ gets tough? I been goin’ all night and It’s still not enough so I Sit up straight, roll up my sleeves Try to forget what you’re doin’ to me and All that I have done to me You see... ©2002 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
BELLS OF ODILIA (Richards) The bells of Odilia Are ringing once more Now I’ve missed you again Like I’ve missed you before Out on the town Is where I wanted to be But this morning I swear The town’s sitting on me From there it must look Like I’m letting you down But I’m comin’ ‘round, Lord I’m comin’ ‘round The devil once whispered Through his devil grin Said "You can’t know you’re pure Until you stand next to sin" Lord, show your mercy On my poison past I have all these rough edges So I don’t slip your grasp We all tangle up But I’ll get unwound I’m comin’ ‘round, Lord I’m comin’ ‘round Well, it happens to me All of the time Temptation finds The stool next to mine Sometimes I hear you At the end of the night When the liquor’s set in Through the smoke and the lights But I’ll lay that all down, Lord I won’t miss them that much I may go out tonight I’ll just look, I won’t touch And the bells will ring And I’ll follow the sound I’m comin’ ‘round, Lord I’m comin’ ‘round ©1999 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
JAM THE BREEZE (Richards) Well, I just got in this morning But I can’t stay long Somethin’ in the road It pulls me on As soon as I sit still I miss the windin’ hills And crave the speed I gotta jam the breeze I tried that other life And it killed me some I bought a set of tires And made ‘em hum I blew that honest pay In traps along the way But now I’m free I gotta jam the breeze It don’t look like nothin’ But it’s everything I need I got me the highway And I got a set of keys I used to trade my heart But I learned since then You’re better off to give it To the wind I don’t know when or how I’ll be comin’ back, but now I have to leave Baby, I gotta jam the breeze ©2000 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
Crazy Too 04:37
CRAZY TOO (Richards) Back before this trouble came to find me A quiet life was rollin’ down the tracks Those peaceful days are far behind me Can’t find a way to get ‘em back You say it’s all the miles I’ve traveled You tell me it’s the devil in the drink But when you left, that’s when it all unraveled So let me tell you what I think You’d be crazy too You’d be runnin’ this town from dusk to dawn With a heart that’s broken through If you knew the night the way that I do Darlin’, you’d be crazy too Now I’m not pointin’ any fingers It’s just not as simple as you claim You don’t know the way it lingers How sometimes it takes two to go insane So here’s to a woman’s intuition And all that 101 psychology Just take a look at me and listen Here’s all the proof you’ll ever need ©2002 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
Tell me, where are you tonight? Bunkered down and out of sight? Holdin’ up the ceiling with a broom? Just as winter’s chill had gone You hear the furnace kicking on It’s supposed to be spring But there’s nothing in bloom HANG ON TO THE MOON (Richards) They tell everyone You shouldn’t look at the sun But you do And it sets And darker and darker it gets But the light is coming soon So hang on to the moon Let this ol’ Earth do its spinning around Don’t watch the stars burst And fall to the ground Now there she glows, as good as new Just a sliver, that’ll do Somewhere I know that You’re watching it too ©2002 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
NASHVILLE GAS (Richards) It trickled down From high up in the mountains Settled in the heart of Tennessee And there it spread From antenna to antenna Rode the waves across the seven seas One day that sound came into town And it found me And I’ve been runnin’ on it constantly Gimme some of that Nashville gas Nothin’ better than Nashville gas A Telecaster and a Fender amp A pedal steel fillin’ up the gaps It’s gonna get a little lost sometimes Gonna feel like the well’s gone dry All you gotta do is follow it back They never run out of that Nashville gas Now it comes in From every last direction Places no one’s ever heard before They bring it back C’mon, now play it like you feel it It’s fillin’ up the well of country soul Now some will say it’s gone the way Of rock ‘n’ roll But I still hear it bubblin’ below ©2002 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
HEARTS LIKE THESE (Richards) They always stop to say How good we look together We smile and thank ‘em for the compliment But every now and then Someone says the word "forever" And it just hangs there dying in the wind You’re everything I wanted And some I didn’t know I swore I’d never let you slip away But today I held you tighter Than I ever did before I know it’s only time my strength’ll fade With heart like these There’s no point in trying Torn apart and barely on the mind Fooling ourselves, trying to pretend That these hearts will be together in the end I can’t love you I can’t love you I can’t love you any more than I do ©2003 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
One Foot 03:50
ONE FOOT (Richards) I would be a starving man If I could feel it through the cold This might be the way to Hell But I was put upon this road I guess I seen you first But no one’s got the drop on no one We could do like we been told Or both of us could keep on goin’ I don’t want your scraps of food I don’t want to shoot you, brother Let me keep upon my way Put one foot in front of the other All the pictures in your head Did they think you had it in ya? I’d offer you my hand But I ain’t seen it since Virginia Your blood is of no use to me There’s enough of it behind me I only want to see my home Where none of this will ever find me You could be distracted by a sound And I could slip into the cover Turn your eyes back to the ground Put one foot in front of the other ©2001 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
HONKYTONK GRAVEYARD (Richards) Bury me in the honkytonk graveyard Where all the old carousers go to sleep And there’s a thousand steel guitars and fiddles Lying somewhere underneath your feet Filled with all the no-good, lazy sinners Who ever walked in through a swingin’ door And every single, free good-timin’ woman Who ever danced a sawdust-covered floor My last request shouldn’t be too hard I don’t need no one to pray for me Bury me in the honkytonk graveyard That’s as close to heaven as I want to be Put sequins on the inside of my coffin So it sparkles like the desert sky Maybe I won’t miss ‘em quite as often If they’re shining right before my eyes Nestle in a half a pint of bourbon Just so that I won’t forget the smell And I know there’ll be a jukebox where I’m goin’ So throw a roll of quarters in as well Bury me in the honkytonk graveyard The last spot in the last remaining row Fashion me a tombstone out of neon So everyone can see it from the road And if some night you’re walkin’ out this way and You think you’re hearing something in the wind It might be this old guitar a-playin’ And all the singing cowboys joining in ©2002 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)
THE BALLAD OF THE ANALOG KID (Richards) Burst from the dirt Like a lottery ball Last one to talk First one to crawl And as soon as someone left the door unlatched Just wandered out and he never Looked back Minnesota high Louisiana low But all the maps that he’d been given Weren’t working anymore One day he bent to put an ear down to the ground The world blew by him And it made a lonesome sound One day everything changes And you have to live with it Time is running out on the analog kid He got lost in the wires Twisted and tired And it’s beginning to feel like The end of the line Belly full of fire And dyin’ of thirst Troublin’ the night Before the night can hit him first And they left him in pieces Lying scattered on the floor Missing parts that they’re not making anymore One day everything changes And you have to live with it Time is running out on the analog kid They have broken his stride Swept him aside And it’s beginning to feel like The end of the line There’s a letter on the desk From a far and distant land No return address But written in an old, familiar hand It says "You better get it now There isn’t time to think It’s all been written down In disappearing ink" One day everything changes And you have to live with it Time is running out on the analog kid They have left him behind He can’t lay down and die ‘Cause it’s beginning to feel like The end of the line ©2002 Lake Court Music (ASCAP)


Chris's critically acclaimed 2nd album:

"Best Off-Music-Row Albums of 2004" ~ THE TENNESSEAN

"3 1/2 Stars" ~ L.A. DAILY NEWS

"4 Stars" ~ MAVERICK

"Ok, folks - Here's the rundown. Here's how you make a great country music record in this day and age. [Richards has] assembled a brilliant cast of players, written some downright amazing songs, and delivered them all in a rich, smooth, silky baritone voice that ranks among one of the finest ever recorded in Nashville. The fact of the matter is that Tumblers & Grit is one of the finest country albums to be made since the 1960's golden age of Buck Owens and the Buckaroos And Merle, Johnny, and Willie. And it is a REAL country album. And no one seems to have the guts to make one of those very often anymore. You've got my word on it." ~ Embo Blake, HYBRID MAGAZINE

"...sounds less like a "Honkytonk Graveyard" - to borrow a song title - and more like honky-tonk heaven. A vital contribution to the genre." ~ Nick Cristiano, PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER


released July 28, 2004


Chris Richards ~ vocals, acoustic guitar
Lloyd Green ~ pedal steel, Dobro
Kenny Vaughan ~ acoustic & electric guitars
Steve Conn ~ keyboards, accordion
Chris Carmichael ~ strings, mandolin
Jared Reynolds ~ bass, vocals
Shawn McWilliams ~ drums, percussion
Dawn McCoy ~ duet vocal on "Hearts Like These"
Manfred Jerome ~ percussion
Rusty McFarland ~ vocals
Ketch Secor ~ fiddle on "Nashville Gas", appears courtesy of Nettwork America, LLC.

Produced by R.S. Field
Recorded and mixed by Richard McLaurin at House of David, Nashville, TN
Assisted by Adam Bednarik
Additional recording by Rusty McFarland at Hum Depot, Nashville, TN
Mastered by Jim Demain at Yes Master, Nashville, TN
Photography by Jim Herrington
Art direction and illustration by Mark Dancey

©&℗ 2004 Lake Effect Records, LLC


all rights reserved



Chris Richards Los Angeles, California

Chris Richards is a critically acclaimed songwriter and recording artist from Sheboygan, Wisconsin.

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