Burt Nagra

But I think it was the rawness of the recording we did that really allowed us to capture the sadness.

You could feel the force of the playing.

You know, he was playing claw hammer, that percussive technique, calloused fingers on the strings, not plucking, but striking.

Rocking chair creaking on the front porch.

A song about a man's busted back from working in the tunnels feels different when you can hear the back brace rubbing against the wicker, you know.

It wouldn't have been the same if we'd recorded it in a studio with fancier equipment.

We had to get it there, in its element.

It's the only way to capture what the song's really about.

And nobody would have heard or remembered it if we hadn't got it.

Not even the people that sang it.

I'm telling you, this stuff...

It's like a mist in the air.

It's there, and then poof, it's gone.

Well, sure.

You said you were a fan of singer-songwriters.

One person with an instrument telling their story is always going to be more meaningful in a bar, a coffee shop, as opposed to a stadium.

Badalamenti, that's a Sicilian name?

Probably an organetto.

It's a type of accordion.

More buttons than keys.