{"id":23012,"date":"2024-10-07T07:00:00","date_gmt":"2024-10-07T06:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/?p=23012"},"modified":"2024-10-06T16:12:58","modified_gmt":"2024-10-06T15:12:58","slug":"two-together-welch-rawlings","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/2024\/10\/07\/two-together-welch-rawlings\/","title":{"rendered":"TWO TOGETHER: Welch & Rawlings"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Norman Warwick learns how<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

TWO TOGETHER: Welch & Rawlings<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

gleaned a body of work from catastrophe<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

By now, you\u2019ve probably heard the story about how Gillian Welch and David Rawlings\u2019s studio, Woodland, in Nashville was ravaged by a tornado in 2020. After the twister touched down at 1 AM, gas mains broke, debris covered the roads, fires kicked up and power lines fell. Four years have passed since that night, but don\u2019t bother asking the singer-songwriter duo how long it took them to rebuild the studio, because they\u2019re still working on it. Things like that take time, especially when it comes to repairing a music-making place. You have to be attentive, precious and patient, and you have to wager with the trauma you\u2019re now carrying in the wake of its breakage. \u201cIt was so painful after the tornado. It was awful seeing the room with the ceiling collapsed. Oh, it was such a mess,\u201d Welch tells me over the phone. \u201cAnd then it was even worse when they got into demolition and they literally tore it down. I had to stop going over there, it was too much.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Contractors never touched the linoleum floors, but all of the sawtooth, triangulated walls were torn down to cinderblock. There was no ceiling, and all of the electrical wires were hanging everywhere. At that point, Rawlings took over and oversaw the rebuild\u2019s completion. \u201cI was here every day for 14+ hours for years,\u201d he tells me in-between breaks at the studio. \u201cSo much of that time was not getting into musical things. It was, literally, building and re-building walls, putting up all of the acoustic tiles.\u201d When Welch and Rawlings harmonize together on their new album, the lines \u201cI used to dream of something unseen, it was something that I thought I wanted so bad, but now I only want what we had\u201d feel retrospective in a bittersweet way, as if there was a real sense of gratitude lingering in the air now that they were both able to be artists again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But it wasn\u2019t a matter of \u201cgetting back into the studio\u201d after the disaster. \u201cIt was like being able to use it for what it was made for,\u201d Rawlings says, \u201cas opposed to having your attention turned to things it wasn\u2019t made for. I think that gives you a real appreciation of the power that the creative act has over the mind and how it is the most fun thing to do.\u201d Welch believes that the tornado, COVID-19 pandemic and \u201csubsequent cultural collapse\u201d provided a potent cocktail of musical dynamo. Reconstructing the studio laid to rest \u201cthe last vestiges of any sort of younger hesitancy to change the studio.\u201d \u201cWe had such respect for Woodland when it became ours that there were a few things that didn\u2019t really suit us that we just didn\u2019t change, because who were we to go changing this hallowed hall?\u201d she says. \u201cBut that was gone and then had to be rebuilt, so we rebuilt it to our needs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Welch (left)<\/em><\/strong>  and Rawlings did some recordings in the D room before the A room was done, and they would write, rehearse and arrange every night after Rawlings finished his daily repairs\u2014only for him to go back and continue patching things up until nearly two in the morning. They were able to save their equipment, too, and Rawlings designed a system where he could run an analog tape machine from the control room so that he and Welch were able to record without anyone else being in the building. \u201cIt was amazing to stand in that big, open room and hear it and have thought about the sound of it, thought about the treatments and what kind of sound we were going to get out of it and make decisions about what the new surfaces would be,\u201d Rawlings continues. \u201cAs soon as you feel that, you\u2019re like, \u2018I want to hear some strings in here. I want to do some stuff with a rhythm section. I want to see what that sounds like with just the two of us in the middle of the room, just completely alone.\u2019 They were all things that felt like they needed to be explored.\u201d It\u2019s why, when Welch and Rawlings thought of Woodland<\/a><\/em> as the title, it was clear how much the overlay affected every element. There was never going to be a more-appropriate name for this record. And that colored the work that has come to define that might remind Welch\u2019s admirers of a record called Soul Journey<\/em>, which she and Rawlings made in 2003.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This new LP is a callback to that because of its \u201cband in a room\u201d energy, as it was made without booths or headphones\u2014just a bunch of musicians listening to each other and tailing the muse. The drum kit and bass guitars are still in the same corner they were 21 years ago, and you can feel the connectivity become kinetic on songs like \u201cThe Day the Mississippi Died\u201d and \u201cTurf the Gambler.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s a challenge for Dave and I to expand what we do and include a rhythm section,\u201d Welch says, \u201cbecause everything we do\u2014when we\u2019re writing the songs, when we\u2019re arranging them, every night when we\u2019re playing them\u2014is tailored for the two of us, from stem to stern. We\u2019re thinking, \u2018Okay, how do we make it fly with just the two of us?\u2019 And that really is a constant yardstick for us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But when you toss a song like \u201cEmpty Trainload of Sky\u201d or \u201cLook at Miss Ohio\u201d<\/a> into the mix, the material demands a grand sound placed around the central kernel of Welch and Rawlings\u2019s duets. \u201cAny chance we get to challenge ourselves, we\u2019ll take it,\u201d Welch continues. \u201cI\u2019m not sure people realize how much of a straight jacket a duet is. It has so many more confines than the solo performer and, yet, it doesn\u2019t have all of the freedoms of a full band.\u201d Woodland<\/em> is the first compilation of new material that Welch and Rawlings have released in 13 years, but neither of them have stopped working since The Harrow & the Harvest<\/a><\/em> came out in 2011. \u201cWe don\u2019t take any vacations,\u201d Welch laughs. \u201cWe\u2019re always writing. It just depends on if we are moved to put it out. One of the reasons I think that people are still checking out what we\u2019re up to, at this point, is I think they know that we haven\u2019t given up. That starts to get rarer and rarer as one moves through the decades. And I don\u2019t really know why that is. Maybe people just get tired. It is tiring. Maybe people think they\u2019re just repeating themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Welch pauses for a moment and collects her thoughts. \u201cYou know, to my detriment,\u201d she continues, \u201cI\u2019ve never honed in on successful songs of ours and thought, \u2018Oh, I should do that again!\u2019 I probably should have, but my mind doesn\u2019t work that way. I just wait for the world to really move me and that usually causes an artistic reaction.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world certainly moved her and Rawlings on Woodland<\/em>, the second consecutive album attributed to both singer-songwriters, after the Grammy-winning All the Good Times (Are Past & Gone)<\/em> in 2020, though the duo have been making recorded music together since Welch uttered the \u201cI am an orphan on God\u2019s highway\u201d line at the dawn of Revival<\/em> 28 years ago. But even before then, Welch and Rawlings were just a couple of Berklee kids playing together in the only country band on campus. But there was never a plan; the duo just kept wanting to make more music together. That\u2019s how they came up with Hell Among the Yearlings<\/em> and Time (The Revelator)<\/em>. \u201cI just have this profound belief that the best music I can make is with David,\u201d Welch says. \u201cAnd I\u2019m pretty sure he has the same belief. If you\u2019re a driven artist, you want to make the best art you can, so we keep plugging along.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Welch admits that she isn\u2019t the kind of person who puts much forethought into planning ahead. Rather, she puts obsessive thought<\/em> into the moment at hand and whatever obstacle is right in front of her. When writing with Rawlings, it helps that she and him are always on the same page. \u201cSince college, we just found that our creative desires aligned,\u201d she says. \u201cAnd our taste is almost more than what you like. It\u2019s what you dislike that is really important in a collaborator<\/em>. Dave and I both hate the same shit. We don\u2019t even need to talk about it. I\u2019ll see him roll his eyes and I know<\/em>. And likewise. The thing that\u2019ll really send me, it\u2019s the same thing for him. We\u2019ll be at a Dylan concert and Bob will do something, and both Dave and I will be like, \u2018Oh<\/em>,\u2019 at the exact same moment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just as Welch has remained keen on dusting the fauna of her own storytelling with gracious, novelistic verses and elemental, God-gifted refrains (she was the first musician to win the Thomas Wolfe Prize for Literature, after all), I am equally fascinated by Rawlings\u2019 guitar-playing on Woodland<\/em>. It\u2019s a style that\u2019s always been methodical, but if you watch a video of him and Welch performing \u201cCaleb Meyer\u201d in 2004<\/a>, it\u2019s like he\u2019s attacking the guitar without sacrificing the splendor of the melody. The songs he and Welch wrote for Woodland<\/em> are so often chronicling a moment and, so often, his chords accentuate these stories\u2014like daylight becoming a revelation on \u201cEmpty Trainload of Sky,\u201d or easy-living thinning like blood on \u201cNorth Country\u201d\u2014as notes stretch and fold back into themselves. If Welch\u2019s words are small acts of survival, then Rawlings\u2019s pickings are the much-needed noise carrying them toward safety. \u201cThere is a marriage of melody and chords and feel from the inception of the song,\u201d Rawlings explains. \u201cYou keep looking for that fit with the words, where you feel that the music is amplifying it and pushing it in a direction that you really understand and that you love.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Welch and Rawlings (right)<\/strong> <\/em>\u00a0worked on some of the\u00a0Woodland<\/em>\u00a0songs for a long time, and \u201cLawman\u201d alone is almost two decades old and looked completely different 15 years ago. \u201cIt\u2019s fun to return to things like that later, and all that remains\u2014all you can remember\u2014are the parts, the best parts, and everything else that you worked on falls away,\u201d Rawlings notes. He and Welch try to accelerate that process now by letting themselves zero in on what works and what doesn\u2019t. \u201cYou get it done and you\u2019re like, \u2018Okay, this is it!\u2019\u201d he continues. \u201cAnd then, two nights later, you\u2019re like, \u2018Gosh, it\u2019s not right yet.\u2019 You like it for 24 hours and then you get another way and you might like it for 48 hours. And then you get another way and you like it for six hours. Then, all of a sudden, you realize you can see what the best of it is and you make some changes and it just locks into a place.\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rawlings doesn\u2019t believe that the hunger and romanticism he and Welch feel about the unknown in their songwriting will ever dissipate, because it\u2019s \u201cthe most challenging and most interesting thing that you can do.\u201d When they wrote the almost-15-minute \u201cI Dream a Highway\u201d together more than 20 years ago, it came from Rawlings playing a then-unnoteworthy melody and Welch turning it into the \u201cOh, I dream a highway back to you, love\u201d refrain. And then, a few years later, Welch was playing in a different room while she and Rawlings were plucking away at some other song together. That\u2019s when she started singing something new that caught Rawlings\u2019s ear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c99 songs out of 100 don\u2019t go anywhere,\u201d he says, \u201cbut I was like, \u2018What was the catchy thing I heard you saying?\u2019 And she was like, \u2018What?\u2019 I\u2019m like, \u2018I don\u2019t know, you\u2019re saying something and it sounded really, really good.\u2019 And she was like, \u2018Oh, this?\u2019\u201d What Welch was saying was \u201cOh me, oh my oh, look at Miss Ohio.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s interesting how, a lot of times, the things that end up being really enduring almost seem too obvious, or something,\u201d Rawlings adds, snickering into a gut-busting laugh. It\u2019s contagious, hearing exactly how he and Welch operate through this language of their own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And while a lyric like \u201cAll my world is changing, I don\u2019t know where I\u2019m going\u201d may sound uncertain when it welcomes \u201cWhat We Had\u201d into focus, Welch and Rawlings would never let us off that easily. Instead, it\u2019s a very Hemingway-like perspective on a conversation, as if the duo are reflecting on their own shared and separate humanity mid-song\u2014two 50-something-year-olds debating over whether it\u2019s a train or a sky lingering ahead of them. Does it make for a full cup or an empty cup? \u201cIt depends on how you\u2019re feeling, or the answer is really both,\u201d Welch says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Welch moves through the world as an artist, and it\u2019s how she comes to better understand herself and the world and life and the people around and beyond her. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t always say the things I\u2019m thinking,\u201d she continues. \u201cIn fact, quite often, I don\u2019t, which is one of the reasons I have<\/em> to be a writer\u2014because these things have to come out somehow. Of course, Dave and I do converse about the catastrophe around us and persevering and all of it and keeping creating and what we still want to do. Some of these almost conflicting<\/em> feelings, they\u2019re very present in this album. There is<\/em> weariness. There is<\/em> perseverance. There is<\/em> joy and sadness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

What feels memorable about\u00a0Woodland<\/em>\u00a0is that Welch and Rawlings (left) <\/em><\/strong>\u00a0sing through intuition, not catharsis. These tales don\u2019t all have the endings we want them to; \u201cWhen will we become ourselves?\u201d is the line that ends \u201cHashtag\u201d and it\u2019s a rhetorical question, because there is something about resolution that feels faraway on an album like this, and sometimes that is because life itself is often not resolute. And yet, to exist is to demand an ending\u2014to demand closure\u2014but\u00a0Woodland<\/em>\u00a0closes the door without ever turning the lock. \u201cSongs don\u2019t just end,\u201d Welch says. \u201cThey do have to have endings, but they don\u2019t have to have a bow on top. But they do have to end. As far as we\u2019re concerned, as songwriters, they have to have an ending. We often say, \u2018So what?\u2019 When you get to the third verse, so what? I\u2019ve put in this time with you, as a listener, and what? What do I get before the period comes? And, sometimes, with us, I\u2019m starting to suspect that the \u2018so what\u2019 is just \u2018so you keep going.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From Revival<\/em> on, there has been a very non-overt but oft-present stoicism in Welch and Rawlings\u2019s lyrics. As dark as some of those moments are\u2014death of a child, damnation, addiction, heartbreak\u2014none of the duo\u2019s characters give up. They, as Welch would argue, just keep going. \u201cNow, sitting here at this juncture, I\u2019m able to say, \u2018Oh, that is kind of personally<\/em> true,\u2019\u201d she continues. \u201cIf you asked me, \u2018Is that song about you?,\u2019 I\u2019d probably say, \u2018Well, it\u2019s not not<\/em> about me, right?\u2019\u2014because, here we are. We haven\u2019t given up. Yeah, the characters might have different names, but the stories are familiar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Too, Welch says that the \u201chowdy howdy\u201d phrase that encompasses the final song on Woodland<\/em> is derived from a gospel, that\u2019s it\u2019s a \u201cspiritual vernacular.\u201d She and Rawlings are no stranger to traditional music, whether it\u2019s playing arrangements straight out of hymn books or tinkering with old Carter Family material. Even a song like \u201cHere Stands a Woman\u201d alludes to Woody Guthrie\u2019s \u201cDanville Girl.\u201d It\u2019s the kind of stuff that transports Welch and Rawlings to their earliest days together, when they were both fascinated by music made by \u201cbrother teams\u201d like the Delmore and Monroe Brothers or the Blue Sky Boys.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey tended to play as duets with one lead-ish instruments, like a tenor guitar and a rhythm guitar, and sing in close harmony and arrange songs that way,\u201d Rawlings notes. \u201cA lot of it was economic, because you\u2019d find a local radio station and you\u2019d play on it in the morning before the farmers went out to work. You\u2019re playing on the air at 4:30 or 5 AM. You\u2019d do a little set and then you\u2019d maybe do another one in the afternoon. You\u2019d do personal appearances within the range of that station and hope people would come to your shows. It was a pretty hard-scrabble way for musicians to make a living, but that\u2019s what a lot of world musicians did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those \u201cbrother teams\u201d believed that making a complete sound with just two instruments and two voices while performing gospel songs or up-tempo, sentimental numbers or love ballads was a necessity. It was often a matter of covering a broad range of sounds in a very minimalist setting, happening throughout the Depression and long after World War II as bluegrass and string bands were becoming larger and far more present. \u201cWe looked at some of that music, which is really beautiful, and thought we would sing it ourselves,\u201d Rawlings says. He and Welch once went to a pickin\u2019 party in North Carolina and, in a song-circle, started playing a few Blue Sky Boys compositions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSome of the folks came up and said, \u2018Oh, my God, it\u2019s been so long since I heard anyone sing my uncle\u2019s songs. You do such a beautiful job,\u2019 and we thought, \u2018Wow, these are people who are related to the folks who made these records that we love and they approve of what we\u2019re doing and they think we do it well.\u2019 It felt like, to me, a medium that hadn\u2019t really been taken as far as it could go, because it was just a handful of years before music changed. We were inspired by that, to try to create as much as we could and complete pictures with just two instruments.\u201d On Woodland<\/em>, Welch and Rawlings wanted to conjure that same idea, to create a complete picture with only themselves. Songs like \u201cLawman\u201d and \u201cThe Bells and the Birds\u201d\u2014songs done live with two instruments\u2014especially subscribe to the desire to, musically, have as much in them, even in a microcosmic way, than the songs that are more arranged, like \u201cWhat We Had\u201d and \u201cHashtag.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Woodland<\/em>, because of its dense, lush instrumentation and its inclusion of electric bass, pedal steel and drums, feels like Welch and Rawlings have \u201cfinally shaken the last dusty cobwebs\u201d off of the question \u201cAre these things happening in the present day?\u201d \u201cTo me,\u201d Welch says, \u201cthey were never \u2018back in time,\u2019 because they were just human stories<\/em>. I don\u2019t really think the human condition has changed that much. The really big struggles, they\u2019re timeless.\u201d She pauses for a moment. \u201cOr, maybe what we were writing about was more<\/em> obvious, because we tipped people off by letting them know that \u2018Hashtag\u2019 was about Guy Clark.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The initial concept for \u201cHashtag\u201d came to Welch when she saw \u201c#GuyClark\u201d on her phone and knew what it meant. \u201cIt used to be that, sometimes, you would hear a musician you loved on the radio and think, \u2018Why are they playing this person on the radio?\u2019 And then I thought, \u2018Oh, God,\u2019 you know?\u201d Rawlings says. \u201cThere was something about that moment and the moment of, later, going to his memorial with all these wonderful Nashville musicians and friends. He was such an indelible part of our early lives as artists and of this town and of the musical community. That song felt like it was something worth reflecting on\u2014this community and how important these artists can be to other artists and how much we learned from them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While Welch and Rawlings spent a lot of time with Clark over the years and had great conversations they can still look back on, \u201cHashtag\u201d is a particularly somber take on how fleeting it is to know another person. \u201cYou\u2019re working musicians and you take time together when you get it,\u201d Rawlings says. \u201cAs we were on the road more and got more successful, I would see Guy at festivals here and there, and we would always make time for each other, but you don\u2019t get to spend as much time as you want with someone. And you listen to their records just like you listen to anybody\u2019s records who you love but, with Guy, you just have a special feeling for the people who showed you the ropes and who taught you about songwriting and artistic integrity.\u201d \u201cHashtag\u201d also wound up being the first song that Welch and Rawlings added strings to, as they overdubbed their original performance late one night at Woodland after finding an old demo tape that \u201chit us really hard.\u201d \u201cIt felt like the ghosts were there,\u201d Rawlings concludes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is loss on a record like Woodland<\/em>, and there\u2019s confusion and haggling over the price of getting older and how we are remembered. But there is warmth embedded in the ache, and even when a river dries up or an apocalypse is nigh, moments pass, Ketch Secor\u2019s fiddle cracks open the bailiwick and a sweetness echoes. These 10 songs were made in a place that was, quite literally, brought back to life, and, in turn, these 10 songs can teach a person a whole lot about the idea of \u201crenewal.\u201d It certainly has transformed Welch\u2019s outlook: \u201cI think I\u2019ve learned that tremendous pain and destruction, if you can keep your head, makes way for new growth, as long as you continue to really participate and try,\u201d she says. \u201cIf you give up, then you\u2019re just sitting there in the rubble, in the ashes. I don\u2019t really know anything about Eastern philosophy, but I\u2019ve heard little whispers of things, that there is no such thing, really, as a \u2018bad occurrence.\u2019 There\u2019s just an occurrence<\/em>. I think I understand that a little bit now. Of course, things are going to be painful. It doesn\u2019t really make them bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is loss on a record like Woodland<\/em>, and there\u2019s confusion and haggling over the price of getting older and how we are remembered. But there is warmth embedded in the ache, and even when a river dries up or an apocalypse is nigh, moments pass, Ketch Secor\u2019s fiddle cracks open the bailiwick and a sweetness echoes. These 10 songs were made in a place that was, quite literally, brought back to life, and, in turn, these 10 songs can teach a person a whole lot about the idea of \u201crenewal.\u201d It certainly has transformed Welch\u2019s outlook: \u201cI think I\u2019ve learned that tremendous pain and destruction, if you can keep your head, makes way for new growth, as long as you continue to really participate and try,\u201d she says. \u201cIf you give up, then you\u2019re just sitting there in the rubble, in the ashes. I don\u2019t really know anything about Eastern philosophy, but I\u2019ve heard little whispers of things, that there is no such thing, really, as a \u2018bad occurrence.\u2019 There\u2019s just an occurrence<\/em>. I think I understand that a little bit now. Of course, things are going to be painful. It doesn\u2019t really make them bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the dusk of Woodland<\/em>, this chapter of the Welch-Rawlings canon ends in harmony, as they sing \u201cYou and me, always walk that lonesome valley\u201d in a delivery as gentle as the two-part guitar chords breathing in and out beneath their voices. Almost 30 years ago, it was just the two of them and a half-dozen unlearned lessons. Now, Welch has \u201cbeen all around this world\u201d and, across the 10 songs on Woodland<\/em>, is comfortable with there being no arrivals or exits. The dreams she and Rawlings sing of just are<\/em>, existing like breathtaking, momentous bursts of light gleaned from catastrophe\u2014perspectives falling through the niches in our hearts. And that is where they retreated after that tornado ripped through Nashville and levelled parts of their beloved studio four years ago. They met each other at their most solid foundation, guiding themselves through catastrophe by returning to the American folk music canon, the most consequential atoms woven into the fabric of what they do and who they are. \u201cWe sat in our living room and played folk music every night,\u201d Welch says. \u201cWe sang the songs that we first sang together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

c<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

And our taste is almost more than\u00a0what you like. It\u2019s what you\u00a0dislike\u00a0that is really important in a collaborator. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":23016,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[71,45,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-23012","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture-and-tradition","category-music","category-performing-arts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23012","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=23012"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23012\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23364,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23012\/revisions\/23364"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/23016"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=23012"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=23012"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aata.dev\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=23012"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}