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TMI & Free Songs


Slide Album CoverMy friend Jason is often joking around about how I'm just a Goo Goo Dolls cover band. I can't tell you how many times he has thrown out Goo Goo Dolls' song requests to me, knowing that hell would probably freeze over before I actually played one.

Well friends, put on your winter coats because today is the day I make Jason's dreams come true. And, despite my branding, I'm not half-assing this one. I went pedal to the metal Jonathon Reznik on this month's song. This isn't some coffee shop, acoustic version. It's got a freaking horn section and everything. As you can see above, I created a whole new band-name logo, temporarily changing my name to The Dew Dew Vealls. And, since I know Jason will want something he can use to gloat and celebrate the fact that I finally caved, I made t-shirts too! So get 'em while they're here and join Jason with your own celebration of my fall into 90's pop-rock nostalgia.


(To be clear, it's the shirt. The ticket is the t-shirt.)

Lastly, just remember that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to, even if it's turning a cynical, moody songwriter into a Goo Goo Dolls cover band. All it takes is a little persistence and a solid friendship.

So Jason - here's to you, buddy!

All in All  

All in All Cover

Every now and then, I sit down to write a song and something just flows out of me. Usually, I spend weeks, months, or even years reflecting on ideas and melodies, writing and re-writing until I’m somewhat satisfied with what I’ve distilled into a song. So the rare moments of flow that I receive always feel a bit special. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that spontaneous songs are better, or worse, from a quality standpoint. It’s the state of mind that exists in that moment of conception that brings about the significance. 

Last week, as I was preparing for our IN THE CORNER conversation about nationalism, while also thinking ahead to next month’s topic of racism, I felt the urge to pick up my guitar and start playing. After singing for a few minutes, my first thought was that I had a good start for a future song. But the more I sat with the words ringing in my head, the more I was satisfied with where they left me. 

Incomplete, yet somehow still complete. 

I went to sleep that night and woke up the next morning with the song still on my mind. I opened my computer, made a quick recording, and looked at the time stamp. A little over two minutes. Once again the thought crossed my mind that I had a good start, but it was only a start. I’d keep working and, one day, maybe it’ll turn into a complete song. I listened to the recording and was suddenly brought back into the moment I wrote it. Again, sorrowful. Hopeful. Incomplete, yet somehow still complete. 

I’ve been pondering these ideas for a long time. If you’ve followed my music over the years, these are themes that occur over and over. But in many ways, I’ve only recently discovered a sense of peace in the tension that has always existed. I can be sorrowful at the same time that I am hopeful. I can be incomplete and still somehow fully realized. 

All in All, is a song about nationalism, it’s about racism, it’s about identity and politics. Honestly, it’s about almost everything we’ve talked about in the conversations we’ve had this year. 

My context for “all in all” comes from the Bible, but I know it’s present in many faith traditions. It is an idea to represent completion. Some people put that concept in the future, as something we’re stumbling toward by the grace of God. These days, I understand it more as an idea that permeates all of time. I feel sorrow in my lack of expressing it in the past. I feel hopeful for my ability to incorporate it into the future. And I strive to experience it in the present - incomplete, yet somehow still complete.


Production Notes:

I recorded this one at home, very quickly, just a few days ago - trying to capture the feelings before they faded. Even though I had other plans for this month's offering, it shoved its way to the front of the line.

Written by Jonathon Dewveall (that's me)
Guitar/Keys/Vocals: Jonathon Dewveall (also me)

Cover Art:
Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash (not me)
Graphic Design: Jonathon Dewveall (hello, it's me again)


My Daughters, My Sons  

My Daughters My Sons Cover Art

Waves of amber and a lack of majesty
Sinking into a shining sea of blood 
A sparking ember, I’ll roll up my sleeves|
Shake the dust off of my feet and love 

Please remember why I’ve come 
Please remember what I’ve done 

All your politics, they are wed to apologies
Silver tongues tied to your greed and lies
But I’m an anthem, I’m a whole-hearted melody
Being sung to the mighty meek to rise 

Please remember why I’ve come
Please remember what I’ve done
Please remember, do not fall asleep my daughters
Do not fall asleep my sons 

Oh my daughters, Oh my sons
We will rise
Oh my daughters, Oh my sons
We will rise 

Be an anthem, be a whole-hearted melody
Sing out, oh you mighty meek and rise 

Please remember why I’ve come
Please remember what I’ve done
Please remember, do not fall asleep my daughters
Do not fall asleep my sons

I wrote My Daughters, My Sons back in 2011, shortly after the mass shooting and assassination attempt on former Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, as a reflection on our responses to political adversity in America. It’s incredible to me that, a decade later, the sentiment behind this song continues to ring true while the rift between opposite sides grows larger every day. 

I want to believe that it doesn’t have to be this way. Is it possible to put away our calls to arms and replace them with calls to love, compassion, understanding, and compromise? Can we stop seeing each other as an enemy? I certainly hope so, but it’s getting harder and harder for this life-long idealist to keep believing. Still, even if I’m the only one, I hope to continue to “roll up my sleeves” and do the hard work of loving those around me - even when I don’t agree with them.


Production Notes:

When I first started doing this monthly song thing, my good friend Bob Sutton reached out about working together on My Daughters, My Sons. I jumped at the opportunity. 

Melanie and I met Bob twelve years ago when he was running sound at one of our shows in Houston and we’ve been friends ever since. In fact, he recorded that show and it became our live album, Friday Night 9pm. After that night, Bob basically became an honorary member of the band, often joining us on stage whenever we played in Texas. 

The really fun part about this particular collaboration is that all I really did was record an acoustic and vocal track and Bob took over from there, working his own magic to make the version you’re hearing here. I love the little surprises that arise in a musical partnership like this and it was fantastic getting to hear Bob’s take on a song that I wrote.

After you've listened to My Daughters, My Sons, I highly encourage you to find some time to watch a documentary that Bob was a featured composer on, called Truly Texas Mexican. It's a beautiful film about the Native American roots of Texas Mexican culture, told through the lens of culinary tradition. I loved this film and think you might too. It's currently streaming on Amazon Prime.

Got Messed Up  

Got Messed Up Cover

Summer is here and Nashville is abuzz with talk of live music. I must admit that I’m a little jealous of the friends who are already out playing shows again and I can’t wait to actually get out on a stage myself. I don’t know exactly when that will happen, but the band that I’m in is starting to look for a few summer shows. Who knows, maybe even a solo show will be in my near future. In the meantime, I’m pushing forward with my monthly free songs. 

This practice, along with the IN THE CORNER conversations, has really given me a sense of musical direction. I spent so long unsure about what I was going to do with music, or even if I was going to continue doing music at all. Even though financially, I’ve taken a large step backward, I am finding much more inspiration and fulfillment. Don’t get me wrong, I hope to figure out a way to make music financially viable again, but I don’t want to fall into the same traps that took the joy out of it for me initially. 

That means continuing to make sure that what I’m doing is more about the conversations and connections that you and I have and less about me just putting my own ideas out into the world. Music may be part of the process, but what I really want is to build community. I want to inspire you and I want you to inspire me. Then, I want us to carry that inspiration to others around us. 

Geez. I started writing about live music and turned it into something else entirely. Sorry for getting all hippie-dippie. That’s the danger of sitting down to write without a clear direction. So I guess I should just introduce this month’s free song and stop rambling. 

This month’s offering is a cover of R.L. Burnside’s song, Got Messed Up, recorded by the psouledelic blues band that I’m in, Vole Nevole. Fair warning, it ain’t going nowhere in a hurry. Sit back and give it a listen. Then reach out and let me know what’s on your mind. 

Production Notes for Got Messed Up: 
Originally Performed by R.L. Burnside 

Produced by Willy Gibbs 
Engineered and Mixed by Dave Coleman 
Cover Art by Jonathon Dewveall 
Cover Photography by Brent Edwards 

Guitars: Willy Gibbs
Bass: Jimmy Flynn 
Drums/Percussion: Chris Gibbs 
Vocals: Jonathan Dewveall

Two Things 

1. Let The Mystery Be by Iris DeMent


2. What is Process Thought? by Jay McDaniel

I wish I had this book a decade ago when I first started diving into Process. If you're at all interested in Process, I highly recommend this as a great introduction.

Check Out the Book Here 













Comment below with something that has inspired you recently.

Sun Tiger  

Sun Tiger Cover ArtHappiness comes in many forms. Today, my joy takes the shape of Sun Tiger, the brainchild of my 8-year-old daughter, Vada, and her vivid imagination.

She wrote the lyrics, sang, AND played the drums on this song! My heart is so full of pride that I honestly don't know what to write here. Every time I listen, I am amazed at the attitude and personality she put into this recording. Making Sun Tiger with her will forever be one of my most cherished musical memories.

I really hope you enjoy this month's song, Sun Tiger by Starfire & The Planet Destroyers!


Production Notes for Sun Tiger:

Performing Artist: Starfire & The Planet Destroyers
Written by Vada Dewveall and Jonathon Dewveall
Cover Art by Vada Dewveall

Vocals, Drums: Vada Dewveall
Guitar, Bass: Jonathon Dewveall

What Was I Thinking? 


It isn’t often that I look back on the older songs I’ve written. This is due, in part, to the fact that I don’t carry the curse of popularity and I’m not constantly asked to play the same hit songs over and over again. Once a song, or even an entire album, begins to fall out of my setlist, it rarely finds its way back in. The positive, at least for me, is that I’m always playing the music that feels most relevant to who I am at any given moment. Still, I think it could be valuable to look back on some of my forgotten songs and talk about what they meant to me then, how I’ve changed, and what significance they may take on now. That is the inspiration for this new TMI series, that I’m calling What Was I Thinking? 

Given that the topic of this month’s In the Corner conversation is politics, I thought that Crayon Bombs from The Water EP would be a good start.

LISTEN ON SPOTIFY (or go to the music page of my website).


What It Meant to Me Then

The year is a bit fuzzy, somewhere in the mid-2000s, and I was attending my first songwriting conference as a very green singer/songwriter. I technically had an entire record under my belt by that point, but let’s just say there’s a reason that first record is never mentioned and is incredibly hard to find. Checking in at the conference, I was invited to draw a piece of paper from a hat and was told that it would be my song assignment for the weekend. As I unfolded the note, I read the words, “Crayola Bombs to End the War.” Jackpot! 

America, at the time, was smack-dab in the middle of our “War on Terror,” and country singer Toby Keith led the call for putting boots up people’s asses because, well, it’s “the American way.” Now, I have certainly never claimed to be an expert on foreign affairs, but I do have many opinions on the value of human life and I certainly hope that the American way involves much more compassion and nuance, so trying my hand at an anti-war song seemed like a good way to spend my weekend. 

The actual writing of the song came pretty quickly. I mean, it’s all there in the prompt. If only we could get back to the attitudes we often employed as children, full of passion, yes, but also full of grace, creativity, and forgiveness, then maybe we could find ways to solve our problems without violence. 


How I’ve Changed

Looking back at myself in that song, I see the idealism that dominated my personality and beliefs. That isn’t to say that I’ve lost all of it now, but, as I’ve grown older, I lean more into the fact that nothing is as simple as we would like it to be. 

I was far removed from my playground days in the mid-2000s. Now, as a parent, I’m reminded that kids are actually not very good at forgiveness. But what they lack in clemency, they more than make up for with forgetfulness. When things are going well for my daughters in their social interactions, past grievances aren’t given a thought. But the moment something negative happens, the emotional war strikes back up. 

The playground conflict is not something that can simply be fixed by coming together momentarily and the same goes for our conflicts as a society. As beautiful as the picture of “crayon bombs” might be, we can’t solve our conflicts through forgetfulness. 

I think about the story of the Christmas Truce of 1914 when German and British troops supposedly put down their weapons to sing carols together. In essence, they lived out my song - only to resume fighting the next day. 

I still love to hear a good idealism. They make me feel warm and fuzzy inside like anything is possible. But I believe that if there is any chance for humanity to find peace, globally or locally, we have to stop waiting for ideals and start putting in the work. Grace, forgiveness, and understanding require practice and intentionality, and most of all humility. 

Yes, let’s “paint the world the color of love,” but we shouldn’t be too entrenched in our own understanding of what that color looks like. We need to listen to people outside of our own community and start seeing love as a multiplicity of color. 


I'd love to hear your comments below, along with any suggestions you may have for which of my songs you’d like me to tackle in the next post.

Runaway Sun (Solo)  

Runaway Sun (Solo) Cover Art
In our early days of parenthood, Melanie and I loved singing lullabies to our daughter at bedtime. Most nights involved me playing guitar and picking my way through some song that we had deemed important for her little ears to hear. Sometimes they would be bedtime classics, but more often than not it was something from artists we loved or our own songs that we would adapt for bedtime.

It was around this same time that I started playing shows without Melanie, which was difficult at first. I wasn't finding much inspiration playing solo and I needed to switch things up. So I started leaving my acoustic behind and playing electric instead, which required me to rethink how I played several songs.

It was the mixture of those lullabies and my search for solo inspiration that birthed this version of Runaway Sun.


Production Notes:

I kept this one really simple, just like I would play it live at those solo shows. Just a single vocal take, no bgvs. I put an SM57 on my Fender Excelsior and cranked it up just enough to get the amp to break up a little. I even had some radio interference sneaking into the recording, adding to that live feel.

The bulk of the guitar sound comes from one of my favorite pedals, The Retro Sky made by Greenhouse Effects. It's a beautifully sounding delay with a switchable phase effect built-in that only affects the repeats while keeping the attack clean.

Unfortunately, I don't think they make the Retro Sky any longer, but when they did, they actually put up a link to a live version of this song on their website. When Roy, the owner, emailed me to ask if he could use it, I geeked out like a fanboy. I love the way he approaches the design of his pedals and was super honored to be used as an example of what the pedal could do. I highly encourage you to go check out Greenhouse Effects and see what kind of magic Roy has up his sleeves these days.

Lastly, this isn't so much a production note, just a cute photo. My youngest daughter was with me as I recorded the guitar and the amp was pretty loud, so I put some ear protection on her. The sound in the room was so trance-like that she ended up falling asleep on the couch - making the lullaby origins come full circle.

Celebrating Polkinghorne 


Earlier this month, John Polkinghorne passed away. He was an Anglican priest, theoretical physicist, and theologian. I was introduced to his work far too late in my life and have so much of his writings to catch up on, but the little I have read continues to inspire me. 

I often feel caught in the middle of the modern world’s war between science and religion. Sometimes finding myself more on the side of science and other times the opposite, but always in-between. I cannot seem to satisfy my curiosity by limiting myself to either the how or the why? Both are equally valuable. 

I grew up in a Christian tradition that valued a formulaic approach to “the Gospel,” a system of salvation that relied on every detail to be exact and unrelenting. It was a house of cards built on a specific idea of Biblical inerrancy. For most of my childhood, it seemed like a well-built house. As I grew older and fell in love with the wonder of the universe, cards began to fall and I found myself scrambling to hold the structure of my childhood faith in place. 

Polkinghorne spent a considerable amount of his career trying to mend the fast-growing tear between religion and science, arguing that both are valuable lenses through which we view reality. I wonder, had I been introduced to thinkers like him earlier in life, would I have struggled so deeply with the depression and inner conflict that arose out of the attempts to save my house of cards. 

A couple of years ago, I participated in a reading group that discussed an essay of his about creation. Below is the opening excerpt from that essay. It comes from a collection called The Polkinghorne Reader, edited by Thomas Jay Oord. I like to think of it as Polkinghorne’s take on Genesis Ch. 1. 

If you find yourself inspired to read more Polkinghorne, perhaps we can do it together. Reach out and let’s celebrate his life and work. 


        In the beginning was the big bang. As the world sprang forth from the fuzzy singularity of its origin, first the spatial order formed, as quantum fluctuations ceased seriously to perturb gravity. Then space boiled, in the rapid expansion of the inflationary era, blowing the universe apart with incredible rapidity in the much less than 10-30 seconds that it lasted. The perfect symmetry of the original scheme of things was successively broken as the cooling brought about by expansion crystallized out the forces of nature as we know them today. For a while the universe was a hot soup of quarks and gluons and leptons, but by the time it was one ten-thousandth of a second old, this age of rapid transformations came to a close and the matter of the world took the familiar form of protons and neutrons and electrons. The whole cosmos was still hot enough to be the arena of nuclear reactions, and these continued until just beyond the cosmic age of three minutes. The gross nuclear structure of the universe was then left, as it remains today, at a quarter helium and three-quarters hydrogen. It was far too hot for atoms to form around these nuclei, and this would not occur for another half a million years or so. By then the universe had become cool enough for matter and radiation to separate. The world suddenly became transparent and a universal sea of radiation was left to continue cooling on its own until, fifteen billion years later, and by then at a temperature of 3oK, it would be detected by two radio astronomers working outside Princeton—a lingering echo of those far-off times. 

        Gravity is the dominant force in the next era of cosmic history. It continued its even-handed battle against the original expansive tendency of the big bang, stopping the universe from becoming too rapidly dilute but failing to bring about an implosive collapse. Although the early universe was almost uniform in its constitution, small fluctuations were present, producing sites at which there was excess matter. The effect of gravity enhanced these irregularities until, in a snowballing effect, the universe after a billion years or so, began to become lumpy and the galaxies and their stars began to form. 

        Within the stars nuclear reactions started up again, as the contractive force of gravity heated up the stellar cores beyond their ignition temperature. Hydrogen was burned to become helium, and when that fuel was exhausted a delicate chain of nuclear reactions started up, which generated further energy and the heavier elements up to iron. The elemental building blocks of life were beginning to be made. Every atom of carbon in every living being was once inside a star, from whose dead ashes we have all arisen. After a life of ten billion years or so, stars began to die. Some were so constituted that they did so in the dramatic death-throes of a supernova explosion. Thus the elements they had made were liberated into the wider environment and at the same time the heavier elements beyond iron, inaccessible through the burning of stellar cores, were produced in reactions with the high-energy neutrinos blowing off the outer envelope of the exploding star. 

        As a second generation of stars and planets condensed, on at least one planet (and perhaps on many) the conditions of chemical composition, temperature and radiation were such that the next new development in cosmic history could take place. A billion years after conditions on Earth became favourable, through biochemical pathways still unknown to us, and utilizing the subtle flexible-stability with which the laws of atomic physics endow the chemistry of carbon, long chain molecules formed with the power of replicating themselves. They rapidly gobbled up the chemical food in the shallow waters of early Earth, and the three billion years of the history of life had begun. A genetic code was established, a biochemical alphabet in which the instructions for terrestrial life are universally spelled out. Primitive unicellular entities transformed the atmosphere of Earth from one containing carbon dioxide to one containing oxygen, thereby permitting important developments in metabolism. The process of photosynthesis evolved, the method by which the sun’s energy is trapped and preserved for the maintenance of all living beings. Eventually, and then with increasing rapidity, life began to complexify through a process which certainly included the sifting of small variations through the environmental pressures of natural selection. Seven hundred million years ago, jellyfish and worms represented the most advanced forms of life. About three hundred and fifty million years ago, the great step was taken by which some life left the seas and moved on to dry land. Seventy million years ago, the dinosaurs suddenly disappeared, for reasons still a matter of debate, and the little mammals that had been scurrying around at their feet seized their evolutionary chance. Three and a half million years ago, the Australopithecines began to walk erect. Archaic forms of homo sapiens appeared a mere three hundred thousand years ago, and the modern form became established within the last forty thousand years. The universe had become aware of itself. 

        Such, in outline, is the story that science tells us about the history of the world. There are some speculations (particularly in the very early cosmology) and some ignorances (particularly in relation to the origin of life), but there seems to me to be every reason to take seriously the broad sweep of what we are told. Theological discourse on the doctrine of creation must be consonant with that account. 

        Of course, the first thing to say about that discourse is that theology is concerned with ontological origin and not with temporal beginning. The idea of creation has no special stake in a datable start to the universe. If Hawking is right, and quantum effects mean that the cosmos as we know it is like a kind of fuzzy spacetime egg, without a singular point at which it all began, that is scientifically very interesting, but theologically insignificant. When he poses the question, “But if the universe is really completely self-contained, having no boundary, or edge, it would have neither beginning nor end: it would simply be. What place, then, for a creator?” it would be theologically naive to give any answer other than: “Every place—as the sustainer of the self-contained spacetime egg and as the ordainer of its quantum laws.” God is not a God of the edges, with a vested interest in boundaries. Creation is not something he did fifteen billion years ago, but it is something that he is doing now.

We Are Easy  

We Are Easy Album CoverIn most situations, I'm an incredibly practical person. I believe that anything can be figured out, broken down into steps, and conquered. My first instinct is rarely emotional, it's mathematical.

I wrote We Are Easy only a few months ago, in the midst of the pandemic, surrounded by sadness and questions. It was a time when emotion was welling up inside and the math went away. I needed to remind myself that hope is always on the horizon.

At its core, this is a song about relationships. It's about making the easy choice to go through the most difficult things with those you love. In reality, it's more than that.

I've heard it said before that every song has two stories, one told by the writer and the second by the listener. It's for that reason, I'm often hesitant to say exactly what some of my songs are about. I always hope that some of them can become just as much yours as they are mine.

Let me know in the comments if We Are Easy sparks your own story.


Production Notes for We Are Easy:

A side goal of mine when it comes to this "monthly song" thing is to get better at home recording. I've always considered myself a vocalist and songwriter, not an instrumentalist or recording engineer. So I recorded this song completely at home and played all the instruments myself (minus the drums, which were done by my good friend, Artificial Intelligence). If you're interested in gear that I used, reach out, I'll be glad to geek out on gear with you.

As a result of my deficiencies, this is most definitely categorized as a "demo." I'm trying to learn, so feel free to email or call me if you've got mix suggestions or anything of the like.  

Lastly, I just want to say thank you to Paul and Umber Darilek for letting me use a photo of their backyard labyrinth as the cover art. I wanted to use a labyrinth because I thought it was such a great metaphor for something being incredibly easy on its surface, just walk the path, but the spiritual goal is a lifelong practice that, to me, is one of the most difficult.


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