For those who hope to feel something, the songs on this album carry a simple reminder: Love doesn’t end when the story is over. 
Long after the dream is dead, the heart holds a little something for whatever once felt true. Even at a total loss, the memories live on in the shadows. 
Adventure still waits inside a song. A midnight walk with man’s best friend can become a sign of the relentless truth that our time here is short. And yet, in the end, something always begins again. 
Raised somewhere down in the southwestern stretch of America, the Cowboy knew early on that sentiment wasn’t a thing to shy from. He must have known earlier than most that the only shame in failure was to have never tried at all.

People don’t write much down anymore, and they sure don’t write many letters. Maybe that’s why dropping the needle on “Here’s to the Memory” feels like opening the mailbox to find an unexpected note from an old friend. The kind written in careful scrawl. The kind meant for only you to see. 
Across eleven songs, he lets you walk through the lonely rooms of his past. All those unspoken loves. Unanswered questions. The tender ache of what might’ve been. These are stories shaped by a man who feels deeply but speaks softly; a cowboy philosopher who carries sorrow not as a burden but as a reminder. 
And in the end, there is the dog. Just ahead, keeping the pace. Reminding him that even in the quiet aftermath of heartbreak, the world still offers small mercies, faithful companions, and the faint glow of hope for the road home. 
Here’s to the memory. And here’s to the man who turned it into a song.

-M. Catherwood (President, Holy Roll Records)