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by Kevin Dickerson

I look out my window at the glimmering houses on the hill From my pretty home in pretty San Francisco The morning light sparkles off the glass in the morning mist I’m a morning person now and I need to remember to eat right and to spend more time on my kisses I see the seagulls spinning through the light in the air Are they same ones I wrote about in a different year? Would they remember? Would they recognize me? Does it matter? Do we all look the same to them? And how important is it anyway? I’m not chasing after fame Some things you do because you’re driven to do it It’s in your blood It’s September I feel lonely for a change I don’t feel that much anymore and I know why I looked at a picture of red autumn leaves near my hometown on a friend’s Instagram feed A tiny perfect wild flower in a stunning mountain scene The fall back home is over soon is time a thief? Or will it be a companion on a flight back home next year? I love my brother so I texted him He travels a thousand miles just like me, on a whim We have the same voice We often sound the same But we share our thoughts In a different way "You may see me running down the old dusty road I will stop and you will smile" "I say hello and give a wave and keep going for a while" Around the bend past an old parked airplane Tucked away beside a red barn that inspired you to paint Before you ever met the two sons that you bore That October that you left us We sat together for days I took your favorite clothes to the Salvation Army And a lavender sweater that was folded and buttoned down that still had the tags on it that you saved for an occasion that never came I can’t remember as well as my brother I flipped through old black book And found some of these words I think I wrote them In the garden that you loved We listened on repeat in the living room to Willie Nelson - “Stardust” And I there sat for days with the parlor guitar Rob Czarneski sold to me You gave me a blue electric guitar You put a notecard in the case “This guitar doesn’t play sad songs” So I’ll use my vihuela from Michoacán and my Spanish guitar tuned to C I’ll add some words and play guitar And Beau can add a drum machine
I joked with the folks at Whole Foods about the drought and the winter rains Just at the point where things were going okay But here it comes, bad news, once again The familiar flood of messages on my phone taking over my brain To spread the word about the scheduled viewing Of Angie Hathaway this Sunday at Driscoll's Mortuary in the Mission Her death was sudden and unexpected To see the Great American music hall’s marquee on O’Farrell Street Or to attend a memorial at Slim’s Right now is too much for me If there’s nothing else I know it’s that I understand the pain of losing a loved one too soon But not in this way Angie was younger than me Sometimes I can hardly believe the words I read I guess today’s the kind of day when my phone blows up unexpectedly where I find myself reading all of a sudden “Angie is survived by her husband” Every moment on Earth is a gift And yes it’s difficult to stay positive in light of recent events Angie was far too young to have left us for now I’m still here, and so is her bereaved husband. Who is still alive He knows I’ll be here to support, and not to criticize I’m not depressed, I have no anxiety I haven’t been remotely sad lately Today I don’t give a fuck about politics or the Vulgarian-in-chief And tomorrow I’m walking over To an open casket funeral a few blocks from my house to be there to pay my respects To Angie and her friends and loved ones There is nothing worse on this earth than losing someone Remember that the next time you have relationship problems Deciding what to watch on the television can cause very real relationship problems that may haunt your mind Next time you argue over what to watch on Netflix or Amazon remember we are like machines with an off switch somewhere inside Remember the next time you turn up your nose at a someone with a needle in their arm lying on the street next to their pitbull puppy To think about what it means to be survived by Remember the next time you look down with disgust at a street crackhead junkie To think about what it means to be survived by Remember the next time you find yourself shaking your head after hearing about your favorite musician’s celebrity overdose or heart attack death To think about what it means to be survived by If you want to listen to cliché metaphors about death listen to your favorite Spotify playlist I might suggest "Tears in Heaven” if you were born in the 70s or early 80s and like Eric Clapton Or “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” for a modern twist, it’s a beautiful song written by Ben Gibbard If you’re a millennial I’m sure there are plenty of songs out there I’m unfamiliar with I don’t recall hearing any meaningful songs about death recently in my Lyfts I have a lot to be grateful for, and I’d rather recommend to put all that aside And listen to this next line which came sincerely from Angie’s sister through tears, here’s this to dwell on: “The world is brighter because it was lit by Angie’s smile.” I wanted to say, “that doesn't mean it's darker now that she's gone” But speaking up at funerals isn’t my style, or my preferred platform And any more details wouldn’t be right to share Many days have passed. It’s now February 2018, nearly a year after the funeral. Things are fine in San Francisco, although I got a few more x-rays last week and an MRI on Friday. I hope to hear back from Dr. Knee soon, hopefully tomorrow, because it’s been hard to get around. I’m getting older and I have to take care of myself and watch what I eat. I went to Europe for the first time this year. I went to Portugal and had a great trip, despite the fact that it was around New Year’s and everything was kind of closed. Luckily I was staying near a nice Chinese restaurant by the water in Porto. I ordered a dish that was like if you took the noodles from instant ramen and deep fried them and put them on a plate. Everyone was happy and in a celebratory mood. There was a woman at a large circular table with what seemed to be her whole family. She got increasingly louder to the amusement of everyone in the restaurant. We were all sharing looks and smiles with each other. She went on for hours, sharing many bottles of vino verde and laughing. At one point she started making really loud noises and hand gestures in the air like she was jerking a guy off and giving him a blowjob. She was moaning and moaning and moaning. Everyone started giggling. But I was still jetlagged and I got to sleep before eleven. I had a great trip, and bought some new old cameras, but the beautiful, narrow streets proved a bit tough for me I must have looked like an old man, limping around on the old cobblestones. A few days later I met a Fado player named Alfredo, and I ended up buying a beautiful guitar that I have with me now. Everyone was going insane screaming and sobbing and howling. Angie’s friends had a lot of piercings and tattoos and their makeup was edgy. One girl I recognized from several years back. She was dancing on top of the bar at Radio in downtown Oakland. Back then she seemed to be having the time of her life and it was so sad to see her so upset and broken down. The memory of that day will never leave me. I sat alone on a pew in Driscoll’s Serra Mortuary Writing down some notes on my phone I’ll never forget The Great American Music Hall’s Marquee FOREVER WE LOVE YOU ANGIE I’ll never forget The Great American Music Hall’s Marquee FOREVER WE LOVE YOU ANGIE I sat at that pew and I a new group text message with many unknown numbers came in Suma’s sister was gone Suma had sent a message to tell me and my girlfriend she was at the airport on a flight to Karnataka The surreal and intense sympathy washed over me already surrounded by the sorrow of everyone grieving And I held in my hands a copy of “See A Little Light” by Bob Mould Which I picked up on the walk And I went back into the world now Up Guerrero, all the way to Hill street which is aptly named because it is in fact on the top of very tall hill Past where I walked and crossed the path of a little grey fluffy kitty cat who comes out to say hello to me from time to time whenever I walk past
I watched a video of a bullet impact through ballistic gel on youtube in slow motion and threw up sparkling water mixed with pepto bismol The gel was meant to react like human flesh and bone I watched the bullet tear through like it was JELL-O Maybe I had caught the flu or something Maybe the kids who had lost their lives in Florida were affecting me I flushed the toilet and stood underneath hot water and steam And hoped I could hold down some food for the afternoon I contemplated the consequences of barfing in the CT machine Can you imagine how embarrassing that would be? I sipped on the Whole Foods store brand sparkling water can and I said today that’s not gonna be me That’s not going to be me I’ve been very very preoccupied so in the Lyft I rode in silence to the sound of Cardi B and some other songs I’d never heard before on Top 40 I went up to California Street for some images from computed tomography The nurse said, "Hi, my name’s Maria." and I said, "Yes I remember you. "You gave me an x-ray a few weeks ago... and an MRI last week and on your left wrist I think there’s a faded tattoo you probably got when you were 18" And she smiled and said, "Oh yeah, how are you?" "How are you?" I said you know, I’m fine And onto the CT bed I climbed She positioned my leg precisely for the scan and covered my balls with lead with great care and looked at me and said, "There’s a small amount of radiation." And later that day I scheduled my surgery to get my sub-taylor joint debrided again My fingernails were getting too long on my right hand for playing guitar—not as long as Zack Wylde’s or Lenny Breau’s So I got my clippers and put on a documentary about so-called "big five" hunters who like to take down animals like lions and rhinos I didn’t know a crocodile could roar and howl It was dark and I shut it off halfway through My dad hunted and fished when we were growing up Although I’m pretty sure now it’s possible it was an outsized excuse For my dad to drink beer and tell jokes with his friends in the woods like George McClure, member number 609 Of the Elk’s Club who died in 2000 maybe it was a heart attack or maybe a stroke He was a man of size just like my uncle Glen Just like my uncle, Glen I stopped by the studio to hang, my friend Andrew was tracking vocals, he’s got a great voice and he’s working on a really great album and he plays piano really well too And I sat in the control room and pet the little kitty Salome, and I sat and listened Andrew played piano for me and sang backup vocals on “Do I Remember?” I said this song sounds great who’s playing bass? And Beau said that’s Nate Brenner I said I thought so and I waited for a break to say hi to Andrew and Heather They said how are you and I said you know how it is I just got a CT scan at RadNet and Heather said I know the radiologist there, Meghan I said I bet she has looked at my scans several times over the years she must like to sing, just like me Music can be big business like Cardi B, or it can be meaningful and thought provoking Music is beautiful, and necessary too If you disagree, ask Keith Sweat about his sexy Keith Sweat grooves I walked through the mission from an open house near 24th I ran into Beau who was eating a burrito We both said it sure would be an easy walk to the studio Saw Kathleen there too, I said what a nice city we live in, I get to run into my friends Old and new and there’s pretty good food Maybe not as good as Los Angeles but the food’s still pretty great—I’ll take burritos over sandwiches any day I called my dad and he was hauling an old Bassman amplifier half stack Across the snowy yard to give to his neighbor because the guy got bored during the cold snap My dad said "We’re always playing with equipment, you and I, we’re the same" I said "yes dad, in many many many many ways" We talked about the great guitarist Lenny Breau How he too left the earth too soon He played beautiful guitar in his own way It reminded me that for my own custom guitar I’m still waiting Lenny Breau’s playing was so beautiful The angelic harmonies that he played were stunning and technically incredible Breau was a Canadian hall-of-famer And I thought about him while I made my way down to Daly City Surgery Center for a pre-op appointment with one of my anesthesiologists To get some controlled substances I said don’t give me those opiates Dr. Churnin And he said don’t worry you won’t get addicted I’ll give you Tramadol it’s more like a wine cooler You’ll be able to get around As long as you take great care Yes, I said, I’ll be glued to my music-making chair If you find an idea to create art that is pure Pick it out of the air Play with it for a while like I did with this one and add a Keith Sweat kind of groove And send it out to the world to share
Here in the control room of Studio B just laughing about numerous attempts to see the four-hour-long Tom Petty documentary Beau said he always falls asleep Just after the part where he gets out of Florida And just before he makes a hit But my dad and I were glued to it With only a few brief breaks When my dad was here visiting last fall… or was it two years ago? There were some older kids who put together enough songs for a cover band playing "Free Falling" And I didn’t know anyone else my age who played except Charlie whose dad gave him a Telecaster electric guitar with a maple fretboard and a Tweed amplifier he played it and the sound it was beautiful and I haven’t thought about him in years and years and years click click click click click click click type type type type type type type I’m just doing administrative tasks today click click click click click type type type type type I sure wish the Blue Angles and the tourists would go away Went to the greek again for The War on Drugs and all the girls tossed their hair around just like Willow Smith guitar solo, guitar solo, guitar solo and saxophone guitar solo, guitar solo, those guys sure know how to play the crowd like a violin administrative tasks, administrative tasks, administrative tasks my artist profile on Spotify my photo by Paige K. Parsons I put a hole in my shirt squeezing in an overstuffed room moving in to my new apartment
I took a long hot shower after two rough nights in Cuauhtémoc In a shitty apartment with no hot water on the first night, oh fuck And then no water at all on the second day And the host didn’t respond to me when I complained The immigration line at the airport was a sweat box And I heated up a wet hand towel in the microwave to try and wash up And the place was next to a bumpin’ bar with cocktails, charcuterie, and terrible music Blasting until two AM… for picking a place to stay, I really blew it And lying in bed on the first night, stinking My brain seized in a vice grip of inspiration Sometimes it just doesn’t stop And it all comes pouring out with music or whatever my brain’s locked on Like, I’ll go to a restaurant and eat something so good it almost makes me mad Oh fuck that’s is delicious why haven’t I tried this yet? Knowing I’ve been missing out every day prior On something so incredibly inspiring Like Brentwood corn or heirloom tomatoes Or Mariana’s ramen at Los Loosers I’m far away from the small town I grew up in Or an unreleased Neil Young album Hitchhiker from 1976 Beautiful music speaks to the soul regardless of how undiscovered or rare it is I don’t need music blogs or trust fund kid music criticism I just ask my friends what inspires them When I was a kid things were different than they are now We shopped for groceries at a place by a barn something like D&A in town It wasn’t much and the lettuce was brown Things seemed less complicated back then, but maybe it was all just an illusion Looking back now I wonder if I just didn’t see it Growing up with a modest life Maybe we were just missing Out but we always had more than everything we needed Like my early records, The Beach Boys and The Christmas single Feliz Navidad by Jose Feliciano Which I listened to a million times until my mom went insane I was too small then to fret chords on my dad’s Martin built in Nazareth, PA And sometimes I hear beautiful music That makes me think things like, “I wish I’d thought of that” Or I have thoughts like, “that’s the kind of music I want to make” When there’s a sound or a chord change or a feeling that makes you double-take Music speaks to universal truth And music heals us and helps us work through Mundane or challenging Thoughts and issues we face Like, “why do I still bother reading the news?” Meanwhile everyone in Mexico’s like Aww that’s cute, you’re just catching up While forty years ago Neil Young was singing about Peru The news in Mexico was already many decades into being fucked up 
Maybe the world isn’t worse than it used to be Maybe it just seemed simpler in the 90s Sometimes you gotta take a stretch And make something pure and from the heart Even if you make a mess along the way To make an omelette you gotta break some eggs I can be a pain in the neck, ask Maryam or those who know me best I don’t stop moving and I can get pretty intense I can’t help the way I was made I see the good and the bad in everything often simultaneously Anyway here I am in La Condesa in CDMX Reading a book “Don’t Suck, Don’t Die” about Vic Chestnutt by Kristin Hirsh No one would insure Vic because he was a quadriplegic And he needed surgery but couldn’t afford it Sure Kurt Cobain was around, and it was before Twitter and Facetime But all the while Monsanto was rising TV life was dumbed down for couch-surfing hillbillies Remember Jerry Springer, Dateline NBC or unsolved mysteries I took a walk in the park under the cool summer rains Things are easy here, and I don’t really miss the bay The food is good and the music is inspiring And I gave a guy a few bucks and he played Bach’s Concerto for Cello in C minor Back in the bay I talked to my old neighbor Kerry About the homeless addiction in Old Oakland, my old neighborhood She said there’s a problem with pills and heroin I got a ride home with a Lyft driver, she had a masters in social work She had a nice smile and asked me how my day was And I asked her about the opiate crisis, "Please share your insight" She told me about how street drugs are laced with bad shit That many times the drugs are traced back to legitimate prescriptions They are finding that folks don’t react the same way as people used to When they overdose, and I didn’t mention that earlier this year I attended a funeral And now I’m back home in the bay And life goes on, the more things change the more they seem the same
You made fun of my haircut I can’t tell if you’re jilting me or what Like you didn’t think I knew he took too much off the top once I looked in the mirror after I walked back from the barbershop Spending Friday night alone is a bore But I don’t want to see my friends When the sunset is this shade You reminded me of the money I owed you When I mentioned a book I was excited to read then we sat in silence and I looked out the window over the hills to the east when you’re polite you’re easy to read I don’t know if I’ll ever be a diamond But don’t I feel like an old chunk of coal either So I’ll just give it some time And I know you’ll come back to me
“Your booking is complete” Said the message on my laptop screen For a room I procrastinated booking for my return to Mexico That’s right, I was there a few weeks ago and I decided to come right back Please don’t ask me why I like Mexico City I’ll just tell you to visit it if you want to see it You have to decide for yourself why you like a place Or if you even like to travel at all Maybe you’re a homebody maybe you’re afraid of the dark I might not be bilingual after two weeks, but it’ll be a good start and again I’m staying on the edge of Mexico Park Mexico is filled with beautiful people and places and things Like beautiful guitars with steel or nylon strings And wonderful food that’s amazing It makes the san francisco bay look bad in comparison Except for places like Dominica’s restaurant Cosecha in Oakland Which I’d still eat at all the time if I wasn’t priced out of my old neighborhood And the weather’s warm that’s where food comes from since it’s so close to the tropic of Cancer If you don’t want cancer Eat food that’s grown near the tropic of cancer I’m gone for July 4th Which is just another day in the united states of the apocalypse There’s no escaping the united states of the apocalypse cycle of internet news stations Even on a rooftop overlooking an Aztec temple a few days ago I was overhearing conversations From some young Italians about how Americans feel about their nation’s heartlessness And about how the bizarre the system of health care is In the united states of the apocalypse I know there are those of you who are thinking a thought I love America, it’s where I was born But I grew up in the last frontier, not in your version of America And I love the entire world And for those of you who might ask, Kevin, is Mexico City safe? I’d direct you to pick up a newspaper And hold the paper up Compare your skin to the color of the paper and the ink that’s printed on it I live in a place where my future isn’t certain because I have to put effort into making it If you want to find out how to live longer Ask a petri dish containing what’s left of Henrietta Lacks Or find my mother’s grave and ask her somewhere in Alaska About what it means to be safe in America And then to die from a preventable death like a death from cervical cancer Maybe it’s not brown people you need to be afraid of Maybe it’s the people in white lab coats It’s not a bullet to be frightened of But the death that comes unexpectedly slowly And no, I’m not saying all doctors are bad I’ve sung pretty songs about several of them in fact I’m just trying to put things in perspective for you Since you can’t ask Angela Hathaway It was Pride Weekend in san francisco I went to Dolores park and it was tolerable for a brief time and there was some sun for a brief time maybe 60 or 90 minutes before the fog came the wind started blowing the trash around and a man took our empty cans And every place was packed with a bunch of bridge and tunnel wasteoids And everyone wanted to talk about sex and beer and public nudity And I said guys this conversation is kind of boring Can we talk about something other than getting laid And my friend said “I only got laid four times this year” And then after a bit more than one acquaintance started pushing me to ask when I’m going to get married And although I was polite and answered their questions, on the inside I felt like telling them to fuck off Not like fuck off and die, but like what the fuck do you care? Mind your own business, if you want to get married go get married it’s not as hard as it used to be in the united states of the apocalypse No matter who you want to marry or sleep with Heather is getting married today I’m happy for her she told me she has butterflies and she’s so happy correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that what really matters? I’ve always been different I’ve always try to say what I think I don’t always get there and I’ve failed in the past but I try to encourage people to be themselves but sometimes it doesn’t seem like people want to be themselves Sometimes it seems like people just want to be like everyone else Heather’s a black sheep too And she might be down at the courthouse right now The conversation turned to recreational drug use And I explained I don’t really do drugs And then to the notion of expanding your consciousness And freeing yourself of inhibitions I said, “Free your mind, and your ass will follow,” right? But the guy I was talking to was too young and from Sri Lanka and he didn’t get the reference And this young engineer, wearing a Patagonia jacket and shorts proceeded to explain to me a fairly lengthy list of rules and procedures for the best way to take hallucinogenic mushrooms And I said, why is it that everyone who tells me about how liberating it is to do hallucinogenics Seems to have a well-rehearsed script with many many many highly specific rules and specifications That must be followed in order to have a “good trip” I said my girlfriend is on a trip right now In Italy in fact, and probably drinking a chilled glass of rosé sitting in a nice warm chair somewhere outside in Venice That sounds pretty good to me and she just sent me a photo And it looked just one of the scenes from the second season of Master of None there she is in front of some beautiful hills there she is in front of an old wall there she is in Pisa in Italy And eventually the guy with the $300 jacket and shorts said he was cold, and that he couldn’t handle the cold And I said I’m with you on this one And it was time for me to go Just another day left in the united states of the apocalypse before my second vacation in two months I just want to get out of the city And to go somewhere where I don’t know anyone I’m at Tiny Telephone right now Singing these words for you Today’s a special day, we listened to Neil Young’s Hitchhiker in the control room And we listened to him talk about how much he loved Peru The echo chamber is right over there Maybe I’ll ask Beau to send my voice through it Like we did on “Last Night I got Into an Argument with my girlfriend about Aziz Ansari” I just got a bunch of vaccines Down at a medical office in the Castro For my trip tomorrow to Mexico And mentally compared my physical appearance to the male nurse who injected me so I’m packing my running shoes And we talked about how vaccines sting I got vaccines for mumps, measles and rubella and hepatitis A and B And we talked about how those don't sting as bad as the vaccine for HPV
Sunburst 04:32
I woke up in Daly City and took many many deep breaths To push out the anesthetics I asked my anesthesiologist what she had given me I couldn’t remember if fentanyl was one of the many drugs that killed Tom Petty Then I played guitar most of the day in my spare room It felt good, like I was having a productive March afternoon Turns out it’s possible to get a lot of stuff done If you’re a guy on hydrocodone I got out of the car and we watched "The Book of Mormon" at 2pm Because the South Park Guys wrote some jokes ten years ago about blondes and Joseph Smith The tickets were exactly two hundred bucks The usher volunteer reached out and without asking grabbed my crutch The orchestra really nailed it and the costumes were really on point But I was very very thirsty And I couldn’t get up to get a drink Sometimes I feel invisible Lately my head is a dirigible floating off down towards the water breaking on the west coast Yeah, being on pills is a bummer I hate the rain and can’t wait for summer My head’s in the clouds, my eyes are gazing over across the hills again And missing sunset after sunset Now I’m looking at bathroom remodeling stuff and worrying about soundproofing a building with 1898 construction And yeah I’m excited for my new grocery store to be Casa Lucas I am so happy to be where I am, I think back to when I had nothing I was struggling to get an education While everyone else was putting partying first I was sitting inside playing my 1994 Fender Stratocaster in Sunburst If you’ve been where I am now, mostly couch-bound invite your friends over Eat some good food And spend time with one another This world can be a hard place And it can be a beautiful place And certain days feel be killers Just pull out a guitar and write a song, even if it’s just for filler
Outside my window there’s a magnolia tree Outside my window there’s some trash blowing down the street in the breeze Outside my window there’s a homeless guy pushing a grocery cart Outside my window there’s a guy ringing a bell pushing an ice cream cart ice cream cart The kids chase him down The homeless guy waves good morning good morning Outside my street there’s a sign that says “Latino Cultural District” Outside on my street there’s gum and spit and pigeon shit Outside my street there’s an old woman walking Outside my street there’s an old woman smiling One woman smiles The other woman smiles What was her life like? And what brought her that smile? What brought her that smile? I read about Chile and Brazil and Latin American History And Pinochet and copper mines And Bill Cosby’s conviction And miners and great coastlines and shipping ships coastlines and ships I feel this city with my heart I drink tea by my bay window I watch Netflix with my girlfriend I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart All my heart All my heart All my heart All my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart I feel the city of San Francisco with all my heart


Sunburst was written and recorded in 2017 and 2018 at Tiny Telephone in San Francisco and Oakland.

Music and words by Kevin Dickerson. Guest singers include Sami Perez (The She's, John Vanderslice, The Gonks) and Andrew Berrios (Varros). Musicians include Ben Lester (Tallest Man on Earth) and Andrew McGuire (John Vanderslice, Meernaa).


released November 2, 2018

Andrew Berrios - Piano, vocals
Ted Carstensen - Drums
Kevin Dickerson - Vocals, bass guitars, electric guitars, steel-string guitar, parlor guitar, Spanish guitar, Portuguese guitar, Mexican vijuela, 16 Second Delay, synthesizers
Ben Lester - Pedal steel
Andrew Maguire - Drums, percussion, Buchla 200e, marimba
Sami Perez - Bass guitar, vocals, drum machines
Beau Sorenson - Buchla synthesizer, Korg Mono/Poly, Korg KR-55, LinnDrum, Oberheim OB-8
Maryam Qudus - Oberheim OB-8

All songs written by Kevin Dickerson
Produced by Beau Sorenson, Kevin Dickerson
Engineered by Beau Sorenson, Sami Perez, Maryam Qudus
Recorded at Tiny Telephone


all rights reserved



Kevin Dickerson San Francisco, California

Kevin Dickerson is a songwriter who lives in San Francisco.

Follow @kevindickerson on Instagram

Photo: Katie Thyken

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