She’s got a crush on me

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The Shoals area has produced a lot of great music since Rick Hall and many others started chasing their dreams. However, none other have affected me quite as deeply as the songs of Donnie Fritts. Growing up on a mainline of punk rock I didn’t begin to discover the great beauty of my hometown till I moved off to Orlando, Fl playing in the sleaze rocking Studdogs. Through a gift from my Grandad (which was always a crap shoot. You never even knew what gender he thought you were) I discovered Dr. John and Kris Kristofferson. Kristofferson quickly became a great love of mine and one name kept popping up, Donnie Fritts. One Christmas I bought my brother the Live at the Philharmonic record. A few days later he calls me and says, “Did you know Donnie Fritts is from Muscle Shoals??” I did not. I was blown away. This started my first real interest in the music of my hometown. Paying close attention to the songs cowritten by Fritts on these Kristofferson records. I moved home, started hitting the gym and drinking less. I noticed this fella at the YMCA that would walk around the track in his cowboy hat. One day my friend Andy Frith said to me, “Holy crap! I saw Donnie Fritts at the Y on a workout machine in his cowboy hat!!” My jaw dropped. I’d been in the same room with him…many times. I eventually got to meet him and even interview him which I hope to post on here some day. We became somewhat of friends. I’ve been to his house for piano lessons. He’s one of the most kind and giving spirits I’ve ever met. He readily agreed to play on my record and here we are…

Army Vet Falsely Accused of Murder!!!

Sean Kelley

When I was young I had a friend who drove me around in his baby blue Ford something or another. His brother drove me around in it the year before and passed it along to the next in line. We’d drive around and blast the Misfits and wind back up at his house, play guitar, and watch movies all night. His Mom would fix us biscuits and chocolate gravy in the mornings. He was my mate, my brother. His mother watched the nursery at the church where my father preached. His sister did the same after she left. His brother was the first person to ever drive to my house after school and say, “Hey, let’s go ride around town!”


His name is Sean Kelley. We parted ways as young ones often do. He joined the military. Left as a disabled veteran. On Oct. 17 two felons attacked him. Beat him till he had no other choice than to pull a knife. One is now dead, and Sean is up for murder 2nd degree in what is clearly a self defense case. His family’s funds are limited. Please, if you can help, here is a link. Defense attorney’s fees for a murder case are exorbitant. He’s a father, a husband, and a disabled veteran.






Sometimes Southern Boys Leave Home


Larry Elliott
Photo by Ashton Lance

Over the years I’ve written some stories. I’ll post old ones and new up on this blog for you all to enjoy. Cheers! – Red

You never know who might be standing behind you, or who might be ahead of you in the check-out line at the record store. It might be Larry Elliott. A frequent patron of Pegasus Records in Florence, Al., Larry loves Buddy Holly, The ROW-llin’ Stones, Gram Parsons, Jackson Pollock, and the impressionist movement. However, he’s not a fan of Picasso and New York City. “They’ll run over you in New York City!” One might not think him so worldly if you saw him out. Dressing unassumingly, with jeans and blue ball cap, and talking with a drawl only acquired here in Northwest Alabama. Larry’s been around whether you may think he looks the part or not. He’s been entertaining us at the record store for years now with his stories of travel after his stint as a medic in Vietnam. “I Got discharged from Ft. Gordon. After I came back I went to Riverside, CA, cause I had some Vietnam buddies out there. I worked out there a while haulin’ house trailers. Back in those days, in the early 70′s it was a big drug town. The runaway girls all came to Riverside! From all over the country. It was kinda a wide open town. I was staying at the Riverside Hotel when I met Sunshine. She liked to drop that sunshine acid. She was just about seventeen years old. I wasn’t but 20. She wanted to wash her hair so I snuck her in the backdoor of my hotel and she washed her hair. The rest they say is history. Yea, I partied with her about two weeks…No, I don’t know whatever happened to Sunshine. That’s how they was in Riverside, they’d be there then they’d be gone.” Larry’s seen his share of hardtimes as well, I tell ya. Two cousins, Doug and Parks, OD’d on oxycontin. He’s had his jaw and his nose both broken, and both stories start out with “I tell ya I was drankin’!”…”I started drinkin’ when I was about 15. Drinkin’ what they called Wildcat Whiskey, and I’ve been battling alcohol ever since.”…He and a buddy broke into a friend’s house and stole bottles of Wild Turkey and got arrested for drinking it on the curb in front of the YMCA. He’s been married twice, has narrowly escaped prison stays a couple times, unknowingly hitch hiked with a murderer, and lives on 100% disability due to post-traumatic stress disorder. He finally came back home in 1980 and found that the government would fully fund a try at college, so Larry majored in History and Sociology and graduated in 1984. He spends his days quietly now, walking around the neighborhood for some exercise where he lives in Tuscumbia, AL. When he gets to thinking about a group or singer he use to like, we’ll see him in the record store every week ’til he’s ordered their whole catalogue. This man has many stories and I’d love to just have a video camera record him talking for a few hours. He can make ya laugh ’til your stomach bursts. But Vietnam, he’ll always remember that. He told of the one person he knows for certain that he killed over there. This fella ran out of the bushes with something in his hands, about to throw it. Larry opened fire. When they got to the body they found it wasn’t a grenade, but a rock. And he near cried about a little friend he made over there. “There was this little girl. I’d giv’er candy and stuff. I guess she was about 8 years old. She use to ride her bicycle up and down the road there in Cat Lai Village. VC murdered a lot in Cat Lai and they hit her house and she got killed. I was really close to that little girl.” The moral to the tale, time you find yourself cussin’ the old timer taking his sweet jollies in front of you at the stop light. Take a moment and remember Larry Elliott. Chances are, that ‘old timer’ has lived harder, fought harder, had more fun, and hurt deeper, than you could ever possibly imagine. Thanks Larry, I’ll treasure this tape of stories.
Your Friend,
Red Mouth


Larry’s poem he recited while staring me down. I’ve tried googling pieces of it to make sure he wrote and cannot find anything at all resembling it. Also, the photos, they were taken by Ashton Lance.
A bomb explodes in a market place
An anguished look on an old woman’s face
Several were injured, but three were dead
And the terrorist who threw it fled
I’ve seen scenes like this, and so much more
All a part of the agony of war
Out on a distant battlefield
A brave young American soldier is killed
It was never clear what he was fighting for
He came face to face with the agony of war
Still the people marched in the street
Some even prayed for our defeat
They said they knew
But they didn’t know
They had never seen the agony of war
I’ve waded in blood up to my knees
Seen soldiers fall like falling trees
Right or wrong
One thing’s for sure
I have seen the agony of war

Toska Coming Soon

Red Mouth Toska Coming Soon

Since the beginning of April I’ve been hard at work at The Nutthouse Recording Studio working on my next album, Toska. The storms aligned and my best songs yet, the best studio yet, and a top notch musician crew all came together for what IS my best album yet. By leaps and bounds. The master is in and album artwork is being decided. Soon all, Toska will be unleashed. Also we’ve been working on a mini documentary. Keep checking here for developments and sign up for the mailing list. Cheers all!!

© 2018 Red Mouth