‘Good To Know You’ by Curtis Stigers

Stephen Graham

1 year ago

‘I’ll do my best to let you in’

It’s what’s truly expressed whatever the cost that counts. And the words come first. That’s part of why this ”lost and found” song shorn of bitterness is so strong.

A simple melody that you think you have known all your life but have never heard is the icing on the cake.

Together that’s lightning in a bottle. But this isn’t a song that you’ll be thunderstruck over because of power and volume. There’s more a gently clip clopping plod to its rhythms and that conversational gift in the telling.

Beyond shock, pain, anger, depression, the upward turn has been reached, reconstruction is over and acceptance and hope hold sway.

On Songs From My Kitchen, Volume 1 this whistle down the wind number is powerful, personal, and yet leaves so much still to want to know about. Here’s what the singer-songwriter himself says about his song:

“I was born in October 1965 but I didn’t meet my biological father until the summer of 2012. It’s a long story best told over dinner and a bottle of red wine, but ‘Good To Know You’ is my musical reflection about gaining a father at midlife and learning how to navigate that relationship. Spoiler: It has a happy ending.”
Curtis Stigers

Curtis Stigers sings and plays acoustic guitar on the track, an original song of the American’s. Bernie Reilly – like Stigers a Boise, Idaho person, is on stand up bass, Jens Kuross (again that Idaho sense of belonging counts) is on, piano, organ (very Joe Henry-like) and percussion.

Addressed to his father you being ”here all along” is poignant without meaning to be. Then there’s the reference to the ”crooked smile” of Stigers’ own daughter that she shares with him, the awkwardness of getting to know him… the sly dig of ”I like your wife/she might be the best part of the deal.”

Three chords and the truth? Maybe. The whistling organ represents the winds of time. There’s nothing grandiose or overly self regarding. Less as so often is more. It’s a song of overcoming all that’s been before – the pause after I never thought I could is perfect.