Not long ago, Northampton’s Main Street had four lanes—two in each direction, wide enough for traffic to flow, trucks to unload, people to find parking and shop, eat, and work without feeling squeezed. It was a city street, yes, but also a cultural artery—alive with movement and history.
Now? It feels like a mess.
I read this letter in the Gazette the other day—someone called it a “trainwreck on Main Street,” and it stuck with me. Four lanes have become two narrow ones with a center turning lane. Parallel parking’s tighter. Buses stall. Cyclists dodge potholes and frost heaves. And storefronts—many already fragile—are quieter than ever.
This isn't just an inconvenience. It's a loss.
So I wrote a song. It’s a folk protest, a lament for the people who live and work here, for the diners where the coffee’s going cold, for the truckers who no longer stop, for the stores that used to be open late, and for the sense that maybe, just maybe, nobody at City Hall is really listening.
The song is called Trainwreck on Main Street. If you’ve driven through downtown Northampton recently, or if you remember what it used to feel like before the “green paint and good intentions,” this one’s for you.
🎧 Listen, download, and share:
https://adamsweet.bandcamp.com/track/train-wreck-on-main-street
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