Oh look, this is still here

Lincoln Youree & Patrick Schlabs - down_to_river
31 plays

A few nights ago, some friends got together at New Fugitive Patrick Schlabs’ house and had a worship jamboree.  Each person brought a song that had been formative in their lives as worshipers of God and everybody joined in to sing and play.  Lincoln Youree brought “Down to the River to Pray.”

Below is a list of musicians:

  1. Lincoln Youree - guitar, vocals
  2. Patrick Schlabs - dobro
  3. Jon Michael Jones - banjo
  4. David Ritchie - upright bass
  5. Bob Talley - guitar
  6. Joseph Schlabs - drums
  7. Bryce Langford - guitar
  8. Judah Schlabs & Lucy Langford - cries

(You cannot make a life in Christ without the community of worshipers. Without it, we will die - Kate Ritchie).

New Fugitive Patrick Schlabs recently released his EP, Creaturewords. Follow the link. Support him.  

Here’s a review posted by Peter Clark:

As a worship leader you won’t find many as firmly rooted in as sound a theology in both corporate and individual worship as Patrick. You know this if you’ve ever heard him lead worship, and it comes out in his writing. His songs are very well thought out while remaining deeply emotional and creative. Lyrically this album is both simple and profound holding to his philosophy. Where many might be tempted to hang on to a line of a song because of an emotional or aesthetic appeal, Patrick has clearly put in the time and effort to allow his values to shape each word of the songs until they match his standards. There are even a few occasions of allowing others, most notably Ryan Culwell, to help complete songs. There is a very poignant theme to this album stemming from A.W. Tozer’s writing on the subject of mere creatures trying to put words to worth of the Creator of the Universe. The album progresses incrementally, song by song revolving around this central theme and hinging on the title track “Creaturewords”.   So, I stick up both of my thumbs for the lyrical content.  

As for the music, this is Patrick’s forte. He gets it as few do. His shaping of songs seems effortless. Patrick has one of the best minds for production that I’ve seen and this album showcases it. Creaturewords has a folk feel with instances of a slide guitar, banjo, C3 organ, and accordion supporting Patrick’s masterful electric and acoustic guitar playing that I know and love. The guitar tones are noteworthy. The instrumentation is balanced and soulful. The melodies are accessible and memorable. The vocals are perfectly arranged and feature the indelible voice of Natalie Schlabs, his sister, and his wife Meg’s angelic harmonies. Any misgivings arisen by nepotism will be quickly erased upon hearing their addition. The music stands on its own, yet manages to play a supporting role to the song’s content which just can’t be ignored.

All six songs on Creaturewords are engaging, drawing the listener to participate and connect you with the subject. It is a great listen, and at $5.94 for the download, the album more than worth it. Sit down with a hot drink. Turn up the volume. Remember. Worship. Enjoy.

Patrick Schlabs - What If I Wash Away
80 plays

This is a new song.  It will hopefully be on my second EP.  I guess I should worry about finishing my first EP before starting a second.  Who knows…but I hope you enjoy!

60 plays

Track 22 (otherwise untitled)

recorded live at the Clark’s

by Ryan Culwell

I’ll Fly Away

by Seth Wieck


I met Ryan Culwell on Highway 183, west of Necessity, Texas.  I was leaping one of those five-line barb-wire fences that separates Texan from Texas, I landed in the bar ditch, lost my footing, and stumbled down and up the other side ‘til I caught myself standing in the first of two lanes of state highway.  I also was staring at the glint off the windshield of an eighties conversion van as it locked all four tires, squealing into the other lane.   As the van slid by, passing my life in the oncoming, Ryan looked out the open passenger window, and that acknowledgement was our introduction.

Ryan was kind enough to give me a ride because it was hot that day.  He offered his hand to shake when I stepped up into the passenger seat, but his offer made me suddenly conscious of the prickly pear cactus needles coating my palms like fur.  And then we both noticed the needles riveting my jeans to my legs.

 “Where ya headed?” he asked.

“Nowhere in particular.”

“You ain’t a fugitive or nothing are ya?”

“No.  I just don’t have anywhere I gotta be.”

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The Fugitive was quite simply a Poet: the Wanderer, the Outcast, the man who carries the secret wisdom around the world.
Allen Tate