In West Bath, Maine, there is a big red barn. On the side of the barn there are rusting bikes.

Inside of that barn, there is a clever man.

That man is Jesse Pilgrim. Jesse Pilgrim is building things.

Songs, bicycles, electronics, a living area. Jesse is building.

When you meet Jesse, when you shake his hand, take note. Jesse has gigantic, meaty paws. They are calloused and dirty. They are hands that see action. They are hands that know something about putting things together, about gripping and twisting and pushing. They are hands that speak to experience and life. They are hands that know how to build.

And Jesse knows how to build.

In a barn in West Bath, Maine, there is the largest bicycle collection I've ever seen. It surpasses all of Portland's bike shops. Hell, he's got more bikes than Wal*Mart. And Jesse knows, works on, cherishes them all. He has touring bikes, mountain bikes, city bikes. He even has bikes with motors. Bikes you have to pedal to a certain speed before you can engage the motor. He says these bikes are his biggest problem, currently. The addition of a motor makes it trickier to work with.

He also says the saddlebags will perfectly hold One (1) Six-pack and One (1) Bag of Chips.

In the barn there are these bikes, there are skateboard halves nailed to the walls. Behind and above all that there is a living area. Jesse is putting together a home for himself in a barn filled with bikes and boards and even birds. Barns tend to house birds.

Up a flight of stairs and a ladder, Jesse has a platform where his life is. There's an old cabinet television and a couch facing that. There's a large window and many seats facing that. There's a two-roomed tent and a mattress in that. There's a microwave and mini-fridge and jugs of water abound.

A man could live here. A man does live here. A man sleeps here in a tent that - I hope - saves him from birds crapping all over the place.

If you follow the stairs and ladders, you will find Jesse's home. Continue to follow the ladders - this time down a level - and you will find his practice space. Littered with mics, amps, speakers and vintage cases, Jesse cranks out his punk-country. It echoes out over the garden and the fields nearby. It bounces off green leaves and brown trees.

Jesse has been playing guitar for years, though not steadily. In punk bands through high school, he and the axe parted ways for college. After graduating and getting a job in Portland - at The Great Lost Bear, no less - he started really getting into songwriting. Partly because of Woody Guthrie and Dylan and The Boss. Partly because in your post-gradutation ennui you need to define and refine yourself.

So he started writing and he starting playing. He started writing songs around Those Basic American Country chords. He started making music around that.

Ask him to play a medley - by way of a for instance - of his own "Lead Me Down" and the traditional "Amazing Grace" and "Keep on the Sunny Side," and so on. He happily admits to loving that chord structure.

He plays music I think Woody Guthrie would be proud of. Jesse writes protest songs. I can't remember the last time I heard a fresh protest song. "Trial and Error" takes on Dennis Deschaine's incarceration, calling for his release.

Man, the folk protest song is awesome. We live in a time where the IWW and the Socialism movement are weak, pathetic and laughable. Jesse's music, however, brings it all back. You remember the people being important. You remember The Man keeps you down.

Something interesting: Punk music and Folk music are not all that different. Simple chords and songs about the common man, or the common life. It's about equality and the system that keeps us all back. Jesse Pilgrim's music bridges this gap handily. His music is powerful and thumping and keeps you involved. His music is common and familiar and keeps you invested.

Jesse is building things with his music. He's building a soapbox. How many of us have them? He's building a clan. He's building a background.

But Jesse is building on things with his music, too. Give him a guitar sticker that says "This Machine Kills Fascists" and he's right on Woody Guthrie's shoulders. Give him a motorcycle (or motorbike, as the case may be) accident and he's right behind Dylan. Get him a woman to love and he's Johnny Cash.

Rich traditions in populist music, strong voices against modern-day sins. He's a manifestation of presence and spirit. He's built a fine band and written some fine songs.

Now, Jesse Pilgrim's buildings are ready.