Recorded, mixed and mastered by Paul Fifield in Windsor, CA, in 2023. Backing tracks created in Band-in-a-Box. Mixed and mastered in Logic Pro.
Vocals - Paul Fifield
Electric Bass - Paul Fifield
Drums - Maxwell Schauf
Drums - Shannon Forrest
Acoustic Piano - Kevin McKendree
Electric Rhythm Baritone Guitar - Brent Mason
Electric Soloist Guitar - Brent Mason
(The explanation of this song origin is rather long, so I placed it after the lyrics.)
Sidetracked
© Paul Fifield 2023 All Rights Reserved
Sidetracked, main line disappeared
I’d like to get back on if I could just get out of here… talkin’ ‘bout
Sidetracked, always a surprise
Sometimes I look around me and I can't believe my eyes
I set out to seek my fortune, my best buddy by my side
We ran out of cash, no place left to crash, sleeping on the beach at night
I heard about a little commune, SW hills of Portland town
So I hitched a ride, and once I got inside, my life began to turn around
Sidetracked, here we go again
I’ve been getting sidetracked since I can’t remember when… talkin’ ‘bout
Sidetracked, I follow where I stray
I just left the sidetrack that I took the other day
Before I knew it I was married, our first baby on the way
I became a workin’ man, never really had a plan, I just took it day by day
Soon we moved to California, better work and better pay
Started up a band, rock and roll in Redwood land, all the music we could play
Sidetracked, no matter where it ends
Workin’ for a wage and playin’ music with my friends… talkin’ ‘bout
Sidetracked, can’t know where it goes
On a sidetrack of a sidetrack way before this engine slows
Band broke up before succeeding, friendships lost along the way
Marriage ended too, it was really overdue, I had to throw it all away
Loss. . . was the engine that I needed, a way to find my joy inside
Alone just long enough, somebody new to love, hop on, we’re going for a ride
Sidetracked, don’t need no engineer
Grab onto that throttle, babe, let’s put this thing in gear… talkin’ ‘bout
Sidetracked, here we go again
Chugging along, ‘roundin’ bends, find out where this sidetrack ends
Sidetracked, guess it ain’t so bad
I’m happy with my life and all the good times I have had… talkin’ ‘bout
Sidetracked, wrong can wind up right
Every new direction offers up a new delight
Sidetracked, sidetracked, sidetracked, ooh OOH ooh
I was hiking one day in one of my favorite spots, Edgewood Park in Redwood City, CA, and the pace of my steps got me feeling and thinking about the puffing of a train steam engine and soon the word “sidetracked” started pulsating in my head in rhythm to those steps. This was probably in 2011. I returned to the song many times over the next decade only to get frustrated and set it aside again. But in 2023 I realized that I could cite many instances in my own life of setting out to do one thing and winding up doing another.
I began to think about when I left home at the age of 18 with my best friend, Bob, and headed to Oregon. We crammed all of our belongings in his VW bug and we had about $50 in cash and food stamps between us, but we figured that was plenty to get us to Astoria, where we planned to work in the canneries all summer and make a bunch of money. Bob had done that before so we had confidence in the plan, but the fish weren’t running so there was no work.
We wound up in Seaside, which in 1969 was a dead carny town, panhandling during the day, getting just enough cash to walk across the street periodically and order clam chowder in the warm cafe, then head back across the street to the chilly, overcast street scene and resume panhandling. At night we’d throw our sleeping bags on the beach for a fitful night’s sleep. One night a policeman showed up, reminded us that it was illegal to sleep on the beach, and hauled us in for protective custody overnight. When I heard that iron bar door clang shut I knew that I never wanted to hear that particular sound again.
The next day I met a guy who said we should hitchhike into Portland where the panhandling was much better and we could spend the night at a Christian commune he knew of, but don’t worry, he encouraged, they’ll let you stay but they won’t force their program on you. Sounded better than what was going on in Seaside, so off we went. Well, the panhandling in Portland was actually worse than in Seaside. We were just two guys and we quickly saw that the only people getting any donations had a good looking girl with them. So we headed to Highways and Hedges house on SW Montgomery St. I liked the people and the feeling there so I stayed and my companion moved on. I wound up getting into the scene there. One evening a week a man named Al Wells would come over and teach a bible study. He often brought his eldest daughter with him. Judy and I ended sitting on the front porch talking and getting to know each other.
At one point there was a coup and the leader of the commune, a lovely, warm and caring man named Jake Spinnet, was thrown out for teaching “doctrines of demons”. (The new leader was into casting out demons.) After few more weeks I tired of the negativity and dark spirit the commune had devolved into and one day I asked everybody, “What happens when you walk into a dark room and turn on the light? The darkness flees!” I said that we were looking in the wrong direction. We should be looking to the light. The next day they had a meeting, without me present, and determined that I too was preaching doctrines of demons, and tossed me out.
Al Wells and his family took me in. The next spring Judy and I got married. In 1972 we had our first kid, a daughter, then in 1974 we had our son. My spiritual beliefs morphed around over the course of our 12 year marriage, sometimes I was an atheist, sometimes a Christian, sometimes a Buddhist, sometimes nothing and everything at once, but that connection to the commune sidetracked my life into many new directions.
In September 1976 I traveled from Portland, OR, to Woodside, CA, where my mother lived, to spend a week going to San Francisco to try selling jewelry I had been making, only to find that my skills were very primitive compared to those artists selling on the streets of Fisherman’s Wharf. Though the jewelry hawking was a failure, I spent time that trip with my friend and musician buddy, Gary Manley, and he talked me into moving my young family to Redwood City to start a band with two of our friends, which became Haywire. That band lasted until 1980, the followup band, The Desires, lasted just a year, and when that band ended I hung up my bass and stopped playing music and stopped songwriting for the next 15 years. My marriage to Judy ended in 1982, I got in a new relationship in 1983 which ended in 1984 (I’m Number Five) and began the relationship with my second and current wife in 1984.
All of that stretch of my life is bundled into this song, obviously in a very condensed form. But there were many sidetracks along the way, and many new beginnings and happy endings, along with the struggles. - Paul Fifield