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By now I was in the zone. I grabbed an acoustic guitar, tuned it to an open D, and sang for the guys my first draft of “Acadian Driftwood.” The song was inspired by a documentary I had seen in Montreal a while back called L’Acadie, l’Acadie, where for the first time I understood that the name “Cajun” was a southern country slurring of the word “Acadian.” The documentary told a very powerful story about the eighteenth-century expulsion by the British of the Acadians: French settlers in eastern Canada. Thousands of homeless Acadians moved to the area around Lafayette, Louisiana. When I finished playing the song through, Levon patted me on the back and said, “Now that’s some songwritin’ right there, son.” I was proud that he felt so strongly about it. “We’ve got to find the sound of Acadian-Canadian-Cajun gumbo on this one,” I told the guys. “We have to pass the vocal around like a story in an opera. There has to be the slightly out-of-tune quality of a French accordion and fiddle, the depth of a washtub bass—all blending around these open tuning chords on my guitar like a primitive symphony.” When we were recording the song, it felt as authentic as anything we’d ever done.
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