Here, Asleep

by Ben Ricketts

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $4 USD  or more


  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Comes on a CD-R in a paper sleeve decorated with drawings.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Here, Asleep via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 10 days

      $5 USD or more 


  • Limited edition home-dubbed yellow cassette
    Cassette + Digital Album

    Normal bias. Home-dubbed in real time. The first run, consisting of 30 copies, comes on a yellow cassette with rose pink labels. The J-cards for these 30 copies are all cut out images from a housekeeping/social trend magazine from the 1960's, a clothing catalog, and a brochure from an art museum. Includes a small lyric print. Hand numbered.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Here, Asleep via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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  • CD-R with limited edition full color homemade case
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Totally homemade. This first run, consisting of 45 copies, will include full color covers, as well as a black and white lyric insert. Hand numbered.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Here, Asleep via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out



After about a year of recording (and subsequently scrapping) half-finished albums, I present "Here, Asleep." The themes on this record span a lot of things. Most significantly, there are lyrics about my Christian faith, loved ones, politics, the human condition, the way we think about celebrities (specifically--though not mentioned--the great Kanye West), and so many other things. God bless. Enjoy, friends.


released March 4, 2017

Ben Ricketts - acoustic guitar, vocals, field recordings, electric guitar, bass, tambourine, BOSS SP-202, Zoom G1X, computer-based sampling, Yamaha Portasound PSS-270, Casiotone CT-460, Korg Kaossilator, cymbal, maracas, bongos, sleigh bells

Various members of the Ricketts, Meyer, and Graham families can be heard celebrating at the 2016 Hillsboro, MO Christmas Parade on track 1.

Special thanks to Dylan Van Zile for letting me use his bass guitar while recording.

The cover art was cropped from an old public domain book illustration.

Thanks to everyone who has supported me, still supports me, and will continue to support me. There are way too many friends, family members, fans, and acquaintances to thank with a single message, but you all make this possible.



all rights reserved


Ben Ricketts Oxford, Mississippi

musician. songwriter. visual artist.

Digital releases on this page are organized from newest to oldest. On the merch page, releases are ordered alphabetically by album title.

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Track Name: The First Phase
in our most basic form, we are little more than people who walk in out of nowhere and slam the door, but you know i have always been the type to lie about things i do not know. so basically, there are two or three people that you want to call after a bad week, but more expect you to just be perpetually happy even when you're turning cold. early in the morning, i hear you talking, but that's none of my concern. it's none of my concern. they so rarely get forgiveness, and they give it less. everyone is bored with the first phase until the next. the papers tell them that the actor prefers to have some time alone in his bedroom. early in the morning, he hears you talking, but that's none of his concern. it's none of his concern. it's none of my concern, and i pray it's none of yours.
Track Name: The Flood
in the morning of the flood, i was awake, praying for day to break. in the morning of the rain, i was awake in the home that i'd made far away from You. in the morning of the snow, nothing felt cold, just aging and old. in the morning, through the trees, i could watch angels freeze and bless all my hornet stings far away from You. i don't mind breaking all the bricks that do surround You. and if i tried, i suppose i'd find my way around You.
Track Name: Objects of Industry
all Your objects of industry are melting in the heat of the mid-november sun. sometimes, i wish i didn't do all the talking. i just wish i could listen to someone. i wrote a little note to You, recounting all the things i did and didn't do. all Your objects of industry are melting with the wishful and nonexistent snow. some want to build a tower up to heaven. other people just want to watch the show. so here's my little note of thanks, overdrawn at all the banks. if i could turn back to them, i'd run the other way. all my objects of industry are soaking like my clothes in the january rain. sometimes, i wish that the problem were more simple. sometimes, i wish it was easy to pin the blame. so here's my little note of thanks, obsessed with my own mistakes. some days, i could swim directly to the setting sun. all their objects of industry are tattered, casting lots at the feet of a dying King. He'll wake up and go walking three days later. He'll go walking and find me here asleep.
Track Name: Kingdom
when i make it to the kingdom, i'm gonna have blood on my hands.
Track Name: Cora
cora, how have you been? it's been a long and lonely time. i wanna see you again. cora, you reference a song that my parents danced to at their junior prom. and you say you're fine half of the time, but i don't believe it, not even a minute. cora, how do you do? i heard some frat boy bastard bragging that he broke you. cora, he looked in your eyes. though you said "no," he forced his hands between your thighs. cora, some things don't ever change. people are good, but not always. cora, call anytime. i could just listen and assure that everything's fine. cora, there's light in all things. there is a note you wrote in every song i sing. you say you're fine half of the time, and i start to believe it, if just for a minute.
Track Name: Our Own Language
you and i speak in our language without any interest in translating. you and i say only what we know. passersby don't pick up on our path home. the world seems small to everyone but you. you've ideas of all that they should do, but they don't know you. they don't know you. they're concerned with only what they do. i would turn around if just to see you. i'm so far from mississippi now as the smiling priest tells us the way, and how, they assume.