Headed for a career as an English professor in the mid 1960’s, John Lyle was ‘broadsided’ by Bob Dylan and The Beatles. His degree went out the window, and so did he, playing in a series of bands and then performing on Canadian network television and radio as a solo act. He was also signed to two record labels during this era, but realized that because of his highly sensitive nature he was not cut out for the performing life.John returned to his home in the Vancouver area, and devoted himself to his family, supporting them with a career that may have been more dangerous than the perfomance stage. He became a postman. John Lyle’s wonderful body of work is evidence of a life lived on the streets and in the home, filled with all the love and loss and joy and despair that are part and parcel of being alive. The songs are vital, not written to imitate a commercial trend or to fulfil a contract, but to reflect the intensity of experience and to remain sane. Feedback -'John's songs are amazing!' Frazee Ford (The Be Good Tanyas),'We love John Lyle. We listen to him all the time.' The Sumner Brothers,'There's lots of nice stuff on there!' Paul Rodgers (Bad Company; Free; Queen),‘Magnificent!’ The late Robert Altman’s word for John Lyle’s music,'John Lyle will take you gently to your safe place, and then sneak up on you with a song as uncompromisingly ferocious as a grizzly in a maternity ward.’ Dennis Albo, in his reality novel ‘One Bullet Left,’'Wonderful, odd genius...I hate to think what they'd find if they opened up his head'-American comedian Heywood Banks,'Super, passionate stuff!' Mark SmithLyrics for 'Beauty Looks Away' -SOMEONE’S CALLINGSomeone’s calling through the wind and the rainSomeone’s calling out again and againWho am IWho am ISomeone’s calling, I can hear the refrainBeat the drum slowly, we are mourning a friendBeat the drum slowly and then beat it againSomeone’s calling, see the root of the treeSomeone’s calling, you have always been freeWho am IWho am ISomeone’s calling, I can hear the refrainBeat the drum slowly, we are mourning a friendBeat the drum slowly and then beat it againSomeone’s calling, come away from this landSomeone’s calling, be as quick as you canSTRAIGHT ON DOWN THE LINEA sentimental wishing well where the bubbles never stopHowever many feet I fall, I feel I’m at the topRefrain:You’re in the groove, straight on down straight on down the lineStanding at the pony rail with puddles in your handsDreaming of the monkey faces you can’t understandGuess you better wait a while til the glue begins to setHoney, what a joke it is to be caught outside the netMany times I see your name but it falls beneath my teethI know I gotta go again and paint my hidden griefStill you cannot feel your fists beating at the rainJumping in the humble few who chew their tongues againMaybe now the crystal falls deep inside the trackShatter all the needle balls you treasured for a mapPretty penny found today a voice beside the woodStolen dreams to mark the day you did but what you couldSleepin’ in the bed beside the one who knows me tooLaughing in his letters for the wave was not to youThe shepherd’s heart is broken now, he’s drowning in his fearsThe matron saint of duty has confounded him with tearsYou better get it together, get it together, get it togetherYou better get it together, get it togetherCOUNTRY HARVEST TIMEWhen the apple is ripe it will fallThere’s nothin’ will stop it at allWho’s afraid of yesterdayAt Country Harvest TimeSilent Light’s sightless sightSees no one insideMonkey talk’s in the dockAt Country Harvest TimeWhen the wind blows your name from my lipsAnd my finger finds no need to gripNow and here all doubts are clearedAt Country Harvest TimeSilent Light’s sightless sightSees no one insideMonkey talk’s in the dockAt Country Harvest TimeYou think you’ve the ghost of a chanceTo change the steps of the danceArmageddon with a smileAt Country Harvest TimeALL THAT BINDS The mind is deep and quietSeeing all that bindsBut it’s just a pale reflectionOf what I cannot findAll these thoughts and feelingsHappen over thereOn the battleground of sight and soundWhere nothing’s ever fairLiving in the moment Seeing all that bindsLeaving all the tormentMany moons behindReally wanting nothingLetting go what comesAbandoning this hunted thingThat’s always on the run