BLOG THIS! Highly Suspect Wisdom for the Widely Disinterested Masses
And my ears are for one thing only, ignoring pitch. And my cats are for steering this bike. And my sweater is for tying around my waist like it's 1985. Come to think of it, I actually use my feet for lots of stuff. Nevermind. #TheGMan
Hey, here's a short review I wrote for my boy Nick Droz' new record, which goes live tomorrow: "Nick Droz just dropped his latest collection of songs, although it may be more accurate to say he's shed them. These eight tunes are infused with the rueful melodies and whisky tones of Austin (the land of evergreens and basements) where they first began to percolate, and then lacquered with the high harmony lines of Seattle, his new home. Droz is among the rare songwriters who invert lyrical and melodic tropes as a matter of course, bending them into new and more interesting shapes. There is optimism, sincerity, and a certain low-rent grandeur in abundance, but mostly Droz sounds like Alex Chilton kicked Tom Petty's butt in a Sixth Street bar and then, after making up, went down by the docks to drink kerosene with Jeff Buckley and Paul Westerberg's first morning cigarette. Every Droz song is a story (confessional? testimony?), which is not to say a few stray evocative lyrics sandwiched between clichés, but a fully-realized tale prowling under layered guitars. Hey, if I'm gonna party on a fire escape or flirt with a bartender shaking a shaker of gin, I want Droz with me. If only because, as we all know, the gift of self-destruction is merely the chance to try again."
Should you download the entire album even before finishing this sentence?