I played a gig last year somewhere in England, and I'm not going to say where because I don't want to get myself in trouble.

But it was a bit of a seedy dive.

There were a lot of colorful characters scattered around the room, it was really rough around

the edges.

But I enjoyed it and I thought it went really well.

There was a good crowd and afterwards I was standing around talking to people and there

was a woman that walked up to me.

She seemed really dead in the face and expressionless, and she had

a cigarette hanging out of her mouth that wasn't lit. She said she was surprised to see me playing

a place like this. I said, what do you mean by that? She said, this isn't the sort of gig that a musician

wants to find themselves in. And I said, hey, it's a gig. I enjoyed it. She says, yeah, but this gig's a lot like sleeping with an old man.

It's not the sort of thing you want to brag about, but at least you know you're appreciated.

Yeah. Hi, friends, this is Otis Gibbs, and you're listening to Thanks for Giving a Dam.

I'm sitting here in my home in East Nashville, Tennessee.

And if you hear something in the background, it's probably because there's two cats sitting next to me.

So hopefully they won't make too much noise.

I should say right now that I haven't the slightest idea what I'm doing,

but I thought I would do it anyway. It sounded like fun. It's a way for me to share something directly with you guys. It's a audio experiment, a personal journal, just something that I can

give you guys you don't have to pay for at all. It's my belief that there's only two people in art that truly matter.

There's the creative individual and the person experiencing it, and everything else is an artificial filter.

And this show is founded with that in mind.

It's a way for me to speak directly to you guys with no filters whatsoever.

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