CD Odyssey Disc 673: Lyle Lovett

When I travel I save space in my luggage by bringing old clothes and throwing them away as I go from place to place. It is always great to return home with a bag lighter than the one you left with.

This time I left behind a ton of old underwear and socks, and so on Saturday I went out and replaced it all. The older I get the more I appreciate the joy of new underwear.

I also bought a guitar stand so that my guitar can be ready for me to pick up when the mood hits me. Hopefully it will encourage me to play more often. Man does not live by new underwear alone.

Disc 673 is…. My Baby Don’t Tolerate

Artist: Lyle Lovett

Year of Release: 2003

What’s up with the Cover? Lyle’s waist. I like the belt buckle, but otherwise don’t dig this cover. I prefer the picture on the other side of the booklet…

How I Came To Know It:  I’ve liked Lyle Lovett for a long time. I bought this album when it came out, which is what I generally do with Lyle Lovett.

How It Stacks Up:  Lyle has had quite the career, and has eleven studio albums. I’ve got them all, and while I enjoyed “My Baby Don’t Tolerate” it is hard to rank above many of the others. I’m going to put it 8^th, marking the third time I’ve bumped down previous Lyle albums to make room. They’re all good, and hard to stack up.

Rating:  3 stars

“My Baby Don’t Tolerate” has a strong country feel, and in many ways it feels like Lyle returning to the blues-tinged country of his early albums, albeit with a relaxed don’t-hurry attitude that comes with age.

“My Baby…” took its time being birthed. It is the first album of original material since 1996’s “Road to Ensenada”. Lyle released the double-album “Step Inside This House” in 1998, but that was a tribute album to fellow Texas songwriters.

OK, so it is Lyle doing Lyle again, but is it any good? Yes, but don’t expect to be blown away with obvious singles. “My Baby…” is a relaxed record that delivers songs that sound more like standard old-school country than most of his releases.

The album has songs about driving a truck (“The Truck Song”) riding a bull (“Nothing But a Good Ride”) and drivin’ around with your girl (“Wallisville Road”). It is clear that the effect of the Texas songwriters off “Step Inside This House” encouraged Lyle back to his roots.

Most pronounced is “On Saturday Night” the story about a pill-popping family of low-lifes that would fit right in with some of the characters on his early classic record, “Pontiac.” Steel guitar and an up-beat swing belie the sad tale of drug use and dropping out.

Of course it wouldn’t be Lyle if it wasn’t jazzed up a little with some ragtime piano and blues, and even the most country of songs have instrumentation that make them decidedly urban in their souls. This ability to blend styles is what makes Lyle such a unique artist, and a big reason I keep coming back to him.

“My Baby Don’t Tolerate” is a bluesy tune about the woman you don’t want to cross, and “You Were Always There” is a moody blues number that would be at home in a piano lounge if the guy in the piano lounge was actually interesting.

There are times that songs drag out, however. Where early in his career Lyle would wrap up a musical concept in four minutes or less, on “My Baby…” he occasionally brushes up against six and it feels just a shade too long.

Lyle likes a song about a high-spirited woman, and “My Baby…” has two of them, “Cute as a Bug” and “San Antonio Girl.” The former is about trying to track down a girl that blows by you on the highway; the latter being the dangerous fun of actually being along for the ride.

Lyle’s phrasing is masterful and his vocal delivery is always a complex relationship to the song’s rhythm. His vocals are high and hurt-filled, but there’s often a wry smile in there somewhere if you listen for it.

The album ends with a couple of upbeat gospel numbers, “I’m Going To Wait” and “I’m Going to the Place.” The album would have been adequately served by just one of these tracks, but both are good so I can forgive Lyle his fervor for the art form. Also the fact that they both sound like they’ve been kicking around churches for decades, when he just wrote them is impressive. It takes a lot of work to sound timeless.

If you are just getting into Lyle Lovett, I wouldn’t recommend “My Baby Don’t Tolerate.” It is a bit too subtle in places and it doesn’t have obvious hits that you’re your ear a place to hang your hat. However, if you like what you hear on some of his other work, this is definitely an album worth adding if you want even more of his signature sound.

Best tracks:   Cute as a Bug, My Baby Don’t Tolerate, In My Own Mind, Working Too Hard, San Antonio Girl, On Saturday Night

CD Odyssey Disc 672: The Cure

It is great to be back in the swing of things. All the music I heard in Italy was their version of ‘tourist pop.’ This was basically English and American music from the 1970s and 1980s (a lot of Queen and – oddly – ELO). It was OK, but I missed the variety of my own music collection.

Here’s the latest.

Disc 672 is…. Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me

Artist: The Cure

Year of Release: 1987

What’s up with the Cover? To paraphrase Billy Idol: lips without a face got no human grace. Lips that close up just are not sexy.

How I Came To Know It:  I think I bought this on a sale rack one day. Turns out it was the 2006 re-mastered version that was supposed to come with a second disc of bonus material. No wonder it was on the sale rack.

I’m not bothered by it though – I’m happy with just the original album anyway, and it turns out I got it at a bargain.

How It Stacks Up:  The Cure have thirteen studio albums, but we only have three of them, all later offerings. In addition to “Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me” we have 1989’s “Disintegration” and 2000’s “Bloodflowers.” I prefer both of those records to “Kiss Me.” We also have the famous compilation album “Standing on the Beach” which has music from their career from 1979 to 1986, but that doesn’t stack up.

Since this is the last review of Cure albums I own, the official recap is also called for, so here it is:

1. Disintegration: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 465)
2. Bloodflowers: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 224)
3. Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

 “Disintegration” and “Bloodflowers” are tied for first – I like them both equally, but that just makes for a bad list.

Rating:  2 stars

A single listen to “Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me” simply didn’t let me get a handle on this music, nor did it draw me in sufficiently to go through it a second time. There just wasn’t enough here to grab my interest.

This is not a bad Cure album by any stretch. It has all of the things that make their music so interesting and unique. Atmospheric organ and synth blend nicely with understated guitar riffs. The various parts come together seamlessly to create a melodic symphony of different sounds. Robert Smith’s voice is big and full of angst, perched on top of a layer-cake of sound that is perfect for anyone wanting to feel a little pale and wan.

For all that, there these just weren’t enough tracks that stood out for me. Those that did stand out tended to do so because they were a bit different, like the funk-inspired “Hot! Hot! Hot!” but even though it caught my ear, it didn’t make me want to hear it again.

The biggest challenge facing “Kiss Me” is its size. This is a double album of material; 18 songs and over 75 minutes of music. While the songs are serviceable enough, there aren’t enough high points or internal flow to sustain the momentum a record that big needs. When I did get to a song that struck my fancy it felt like I’d had to wait too long for it to happen.

On the plus side, one of those high points comes early, with “Catch,” a whimsical and self-deprecating memory of first love. The song makes me think of Sheila for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the lyrics feature a girl who ‘used to fall down a lot” and Sheila is known to take a face-plant from time to time. Secondly it is clearly about someone the singer thinks of fondly and often – just like I think about Sheila.

Other standouts include “Just Like Heaven” which has the classic Cure sound, a kind of twirling melody that makes you imagine you’re spinning around on a sunlight square on an autumn morning, scattering flocks of pigeons as you dance.

On the other end of the spectrum, “If Only Tonight We Could Sleep” is classic fodder for urban fantasy types that spend their weekends playing “Vampire: the Masquerade.”

“If only tonight we could sleep

In a bed made of flowers

If only tonight we could fall

In a deathless spell”

I’m not judging LARPers, mind you – I would totally spend an evening trying out “Vampire: the Masquerade” if I had the chance. The song is not nearly as promising, however. The first half is dominated by this goofy sitar that is trying way too hard to sound otherworldly and dissonant. Instead, it comes off like a combination of bad community theatre and that brown acid the crowd was warned about at Woodstock. Don’t settle for songs like this, Masqueraders. You deserve better.

Most songs on “Kiss Me” are fine, however, and there are a few real standouts as well – I can understand how a lot of people were really drawn to this record. For me, it needs to be cut down by at least two-thirds before it captures my attention. For those looking to get into the Cure, I would recommend going either earlier in their career, or trying the later albums I’ve previously reviewed. This middle ground stretches too far into the distance, without providing enough landmarks to mark the journey.

Best tracks:   Catch, Just Like Heaven, Like Cockatoos, The Perfect Girl,

Gratuitous Italy Pictures:

Me and my gal in the Bobboli Gardens, in Florence; she did not fall down once on our entire trip!

In the Uffizi Gallery, Florence - one of the most amazing pieces of sculpture I've ever seen.

CD Odyssey Disc 671: Faith No More

After the longest hiatus since I started this project, I’m back! I had a good excuse for being absent, however – I went on a holiday to Italy with Sheila and our two moms.

Italy is pretty awesome. Great art, great food and cool people, although there is a bit too much petty theft in the piazzas and train stations. If you go, stay alert and you’ll be fine.

The trip fulfilled a lifelong dream of mine to see the land of my ancestors (at least half of them). I rode a gondola in Venice, saw the David in Florence, drank wine with the locals in Monterosso, and marveled at the grandeur of the Coliseum in Rome.

Since this isn’t a travel blog I won’t go on about it too much (I didn’t get to take in any music) but I’ll leave a gratuitous Italy picture at the end of my next few posts for those interested.

Now – on to music!

Disc 671 is…. The Real Thing

Artist: Faith No More

Year of Release: 1989

What’s up with the Cover? Um…A burning bottle cap? A burning frying pan? Something is definitely burning – likely the money Faith No More paid some artist to supply this cover.

How I Came To Know It:  My friend Curt was a big fan of this record when it came out, and when everyone else was watching fish flop around and pianos explode on the video for the one single (“Epic”), Curt introduced me to the whole record (on tape, of course – this was 1989). I always liked it, but never decided to buy it until the last five years or so.

How It Stacks Up:  Faith No More has six studio albums, but like many people, “The Real Thing” is the only one I have, so I can’t stack it up.

While researching how many albums they had, however, I learned they have seven compilation/greatest hits albums. Yes, they have more compilation albums than actual albums. I’m not sure if this is hubris or just record label conflicts but note to bands – don’t do it. I have none of these compilations and am resolved to never have one.

Rating:  3 stars

“The Real Thing” is a hard album to wrap your head around. It is firmly in the rock genre, but within that large description it ranges around. The record features elements of hard rock, heavy metal, power metal, prog rock, pop melodies and even a punchy rock/rap crossover that later Nu-Metal bands would try (and spectacularly fail) to replicate.

“The Real Thing” came out at the height of the grunge movement, and it shares some of grunge’s melodic ‘wave of sound’ qualities, most notably on the powerful opening track “From Out of Nowhere”. For all that, this is not grunge record, being closer to metal with its driving guitar riffs and anthemic power chords. It could easily have been just another quality metal record, but it is clear that Faith No More aspires to push their musical limits.

The big hit is “Epic” a song that twenty-five years later is better remembered than the band itself. “Epic” is instantly recognizable, with its chugging guitar riff and strange transitions that never seem to slip into the usual rock pattern of verse-chorus-verse-chorus. The closest it comes to a chorus is the slow-build chant of “you want it all/but you can’t have it” balanced off by a rap-like shout of “It’s it – what is it?” The song ends with some creepy classical piano that would make Alice Cooper proud. In a way “Epic” sums up the whole album; an amalgam of different sounds that shouldn’t work together, yet do.

On “Falling to Pieces” the band uses song constructions better suited to the Happy Mondays or Blur, with a rock edge, and then throw in a funk bass line because – why not. “Surprise! You’re Dead” is straight metal thrash and “Zombie Eaters” is progressive rock. The instrumental “Woodpecker From Mars” even has elements of Celtic folk in it, and “Edge of the World” feels in places like a show tune.

The band can’t sit still, and while it makes it hard to hone in on their sound, it also holds your attention while you search it out.

They do a fine cover of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” that doesn’t do a lot of new things with the song, but still delivers it with a fresh energy that elevates it above a simple vanity project. Faith No More’s “War Pigs” was a bit of a hit among my friends when it came out, and while there is only one Black Sabbath, it is a worthy cover.

Musically the band is very tight, successfully playing songs that are complicated and need a lot of precision to avoid falling into mud. Lead singer Mike Patton has a high pitched whine that is very distinctive and works with what the band is doing, even though in more conventional music, I might find his voice annoying.

The album only has 11 tracks, but at 55 minutes still feels a bit long by the end. Given their obvious love for early seventies hard rock, I wish they’d emulated those artists and done an 8 song, 35 minute record instead. Don’t sacrifice the long-developing progginess of the songs, but just put a couple fewer on.

While all of the experimentation on “The Real Thing” might have cost Faith No More some easy record sales in either the grunge or metal genres, I’m much happier joining them on their journey of discovery.

Best tracks:   From Out of Nowhere, Epic, Falling to Pieces, Woodpecker from Mars, War Pigs

Gratuitous Italy Picture:

Venice by moonlight. The bridge to the left is the famous Rialto and the pole to the right is a gondola station - damned right I rode in one!

CD Odyssey Disc 670: Rush

I’ve got one hell of a busy Sunday ahead; so busy that I will actually…miss watching some football. This simply does not happen. Fortunately the beloved Miami Dolphins are on a bye week.

On to the album!

Disc 670 is…. Signals

Artist: Rush

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? The fire hydrant sends out a signal to the dog – get it? Or is it that when we see a dog and a fire hydrant we receive a signal that a certain thing is about to happen. This cover toys with the ideas of how we interpret signals and how those interpretations are instant, arbitrary and not always true. I like it!

How I Came To Know It:  I was just about to enter junior high when this album came out. It followed the huge success of “Moving Pictures” and so did very well. It seemed like everyone had it – my brother included. I used to tape songs off my brother’s record collection, which is how I got into “Signals.” The CD version I bought back in the late nineties when they re-mastered it.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 19 of Rush’s studio albums, which I believe is all of them. I like “Signals” less than I did when I was twelve, but it still has its moments. I put it around 13 – just ahead of their debut album (reviewed way back at Disc 184). Careful readers will see that this may bump around some other earlier Rush rankings. Hey – it’s a work in progress. Relax.

Rating:  3 stars

It was 1982 and so began Rush’s five year obsession with synthesizers and organs. It also began my love/hate relationship with this new direction. I still put “Hold Your Fire” as one of their great albums, but “Grace Under Pressure” is sadly lacking. Somewhere in the middle we find “Signals” alternatively infuriating and inspiring.

I’ll start with the good stuff, which includes some of the band’s better songwriting. “Signals” has Rush once again showing off their ability to come up with two or three different musical themes, then cramming them together into a single song. It shouldn’t work, but it does. It is what makes them the masters of progressive rock.

My favourite example of this on “Signals” is “The Analog Kid” which has a fast-paced bass line firing away, capturing a young boy’s excitement as he races through a hot August afternoon. Then the song shifts speeds from fast-paced thrill ride to a solemn, awe-inspiring anthem. It feels like you’ve run until you’re breathless and then lay down and just stared up at a blue sky through some green trees and let the beauty of the world soak into you.

Growing up, the two songs that appealed to me most were “Subdivisions” and “New World Man,” both of which speak to disconnects in the modern world. “Subdivisions” is the alienation felt by kids living in the suburbs. I grew up in a small town where there wasn’t really such a thing as the suburbs, but Neil Peart’s lyrics remind us that the real subdivisions are not geographic, they’re social:

“Subdivisions –

In the high school halls

In the shopping malls

Conform or be cast out.”

High school can be hard on someone trying to express individuality, and I did that a lot. I survived high school just fine in the end, but in Grade Eight the whole thing can feel pretty daunting, and this song gave me comfort – it was an anthem for those of us who wanted to do it our own way.

“New World Man” is from the perspective of a young man heading out into the world, trying to make good choices. He is aware of his own power, but not always of the ramifications of using it. Coming out in the Cold War, this song also echoes the dangers of making bad decisions in a nuclear world.

Now the not so good things about this album – and that conversation must begin with the production decisions. The whole album has a fuzzy quality about it, like it was recorded in a tin drum. The band seems to be trying to create a wall of digital sound, but it just makes the whole record sounds distant and dull. No matter how loud you turn it up, you still feel like you can’t hear it properly. It comes seriously close to wrecking the record.

Also, while Peart delivers some great lyrics on “Signals” he also gets a bit too much free rein to explore his inner nerd. The result is songs like “Chemistry” and “Countdown”. “Chemistry” is literally about the chemical reactions between cells. Peart tries to connect this theme to human interaction, but the whole thing is a stretch. If you want this kind of Rush song, then I recommend “Natural Science” off of “Permanent Waves” instead.

“Countdown” is about a space mission – likely the first launch of the space shuttle Columbia in 1981. It was a big deal when I was 11, but the idea hasn’t aged well and neither has the song.

“Countdown” also has dialogue from the shuttle launch dubbed over the music which is annoying and distracting. It is another unfortunate production decision that made me convinced that I was going to give this album two measly stars.

But then “Signals surprised me with a song I’d never properly paid attention to before – “Losing It”. A quiet and introspective piece with a lot of organ as it tells the terrible tale of artists – a dancer, a writer – who are losing their ability to create:

“Some are born to move the world

To live their fantasies

But most of us just dream about

The things we’d like to be.

“Sadder still to watch it die

Than never to have known it

For you – the blind who once could see –

The bell tolls for thee…”

When I was a kid I skipped by this song without a care. As a man in his forties it speaks a lot more deeply. It is a brave song to write as well, because there is no way Peart could have done it without digging deep into his own personal demons.

For surprising me more than thirty years after I first heard it, I moved this album up several notches from where I thought it would be. It felt good to be wrong.

Best tracks:   Subdivisions, The Analog Kid, New World Man, Losing It

CD Odyssey Disc 669: The Wooden Sky

My apologies for the delay in getting this next review done – it was a new album so I wanted to be sure I gave it a lot of consecutive listens before I said anything about it. I also went to see the band live on Monday, so after I review the studio album, I’ll review their show as well. A Creative Maelstrom: Your One-Stop Music Review Shop!

Disc 669 is…. Let’s Be Ready

Artist: The Wooden Sky

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover? Based on the street sign (Dundas Street W), this looks like somewhere in Toronto. It is interesting what people think needs to be on their business sign to draw customers. These guys appear to be advertising “Tina”, “Coffee” and “Breakfast” are for sale, based on their big yellow sign. A smaller red sign below indicates you can get “Hot Food Sandwich Etc.” Good to know the sandwich is not only hot, but will also consist of food. As for the “etc.” I assume that’s Tina again.

Joking aside, this is just the sort of unassuming hole-in-the-wall that often makes great diner food. If I’m ever wandering down Dundas Street W I’ll keep an eye out for it.

How I Came To Know It:  When looking for new music ideas, I often pick the brain of servers or store clerks or pretty much anyone I run into that looks like they have something going on behind the eyes.

A few years ago, I was getting breakfast at my own local diner, Floyd’s. Our server suggested The Cave Singers and The Wooden Sky. She even wrote them both down, but I put the note in my wallet and promptly forgot it was in there. I didn’t find it until a little over a year ago when I was changing wallets and found the scrap of paper.

I checked both bands out. The Cave Singers didn’t grab me, but I had an instant connection with the Wooden Sky. I went out and bought one of their albums, and not long after I bought another two. When “Let’s Be Ready” came out I was already a wholesale convert, and bought it immediately..

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Wooden Sky albums, which I believe is all of their main studio albums. I like them all. “Let’s Be Ready” is probably tied for third.

Rating:  4 stars

The Wooden Sky’s fourth album has the band showing a slightly more rock edge to their sound, without losing sight of the starkly honest lyrics and clever melodies that made them so good to begin with. Four albums in, this band hasn’t made a bad step yet.

The Wooden Sky is a Canadian band through and through and their home-country influences shine through strong. They are like a latter day Blue Rodeo, and it is hard to hear them and not imagine them growing up listening to Jim Cuddy, Greg Keelor and the boys. Five years and four albums in, it isn’t overstating it to say the Wooden Sky has shown they are worthy inheritors – equals even – of the seminal bands like Blue Rodeo that came before them.

The uniquely compelling vocals of lead singer Gavin Gardiner are a big part of the band’s sound. Gardiner has a subtly surprising range, and an ability to put the hurt into every note. He sings like he means it, and he has a fresh phrasing to his vocals that shouldn’t work but does. On “Let’s Be Ready” there are places where he strays slightly into overly affected territory, but he always pulls it back before it becomes a problem.

When the album is jumping it has a good energy, and the opening track “Saturday Night” gets things rolling with a bang. It is a party song wrapped around what it’s like to feel estranged from the party experience. This musical device of taking a frenetic upbeat song and undercutting it with disconnected lyrics is standard business in modern indie pop, but I’ll give the Wooden Sky kudos for doing it well.

The album has a good atmospheric quality on up-tempo tracks like “Maybe It’s No Secret” and “When the Day is Fresh and the Light is New” (which needs a shorter title) and these are good songs, but not my favourites.

Call me maudlin, but I’m happiest when the Wooden Sky drag me down a bit and let me wallow. “Kansas City” and the title track “Let’s Be Ready” are two of the best mournful parting songs I’ve heard. “Kansas City” is from the perspective of the person leaving, knowing at some level he’s a fool for doing so. When the music swells and Gardiner sings:

“The road rose up to meet us, a tangled mess of yellow lines.

Though I should’ve seen it coming I just couldn’t stop in time.

I had to move, sometimes I wonder what I’m gonna do.”

You feel the wanderlust of someone losing one dream in search of another.

“Let’s Be Ready” is the opposite side of the same experience; knowing your lover has to go, and having to let them go, wondering why you are ending up second to their dreams. Turnaround is fair play, and the Wooden Sky is hip to that vibe. This song, which is just voice and acoustic guitar really lets the melody shine. When Gardiner climbs up to the top of his register and sings “Lover take these arms and build us a boat” his voice captures the helpless surrender of the heart when another person’s happiness comes before yours. It may feel right, but it doesn’t feel good.

“Write Them Down” feels even less good, but it is my favourite song on the album, and I think Gardiner’s best vocal effort as well. It hits you like a confession, an empty plea for things to work out, when you know it won’t. On my first listen, it had me inexplicably thinking about my cat Inigo, who I lost not long ago. I’m pretty certain it isn’t about losing a pet, but with lines like “Leave a doorway to the past/and try to make a good thing last” it hit me in a tender spot that has a long way to go from healing over.

The final track on the album, “Don’t You Worry About a Thing” is destined to be a sing-a-long classic for years to come. Another song with an ironic title (o how these hipsters love their irony) it is a delicious irony. Life sucks, but there’s an acceptance.

One thing that doesn’t suck is this record. I gave it five listens in a row, and it got better on every listen. I can’t wait for their next one.

Best tracks:   Saturday Night, Baby Hold On, Kansas City, Write This Down, Let’s Be Ready, Don’t Worry About a Thing

The Concert – September 30, 2014 at Distrikt (sic) Nightclub, Victoria

I was nervous about this show. I had recently seen a similar band (Deep Dark Woods) at a similar club-style venue (Upstairs Lounge) and the sound had been dense as mud.

It turns out I had no reason for concern – The Wooden Sky were crystal clear and perfect throughout. They were a bit crowded on the small stage, and the view wasn’t great but it didn’t affect their playing at all, which was excellent.

My last concert was Steve Earle’s “Low Highway” tour and my friend Casey made a good observation that lead singer Gardiner has a bit of young Steve in him. He jumps to the mike with an energy driven by the song, and then retreats back under his hair, like he’s simultaneously driven to perform, and shy to show too much of himself.

Song selection was just right, with about half the concert being songs from the new album and the other half some of my favourites from their earlier albums. I have no idea what their ‘hits’ would be from long-attending fans so it was nice to find that a lot of the songs that I think are their standouts were the songs they played.

The band keeps the chit-chat down and lets the music speak for itself, but when they do interact there’s a genuine warmth and appreciation that all these folks have come out to see them play.

The venue was “Distrikt,” a bar that on the weekend has long been a bit of pick-up joint for the short-skirt/muscle shirt crowd. I won’t judge, since I went there a few times in my early twenties. Back then it was called “the Forge” and since then it has had a half-dozen other incarnations. It hasn’t changed much over the years, but the seat cushions seemed new and it was generally clean. They could have done with some servers, but the bartenders were affable when I finally got off my ass and sought them out.

The audience was very young (compared to me) and for the most part seemed to be there to genuinely see the band, which was nice. There was a bit of murmuring chatter during the encore I didn’t appreciate, but it was pretty muted compared to some bar concerts I’ve been to.

Whatever the case, the Wooden Sky had drawn me in from the first song and never lost me. The worst part was when they stopped playing. If they come again, I’d get a ticket in a heartbeat, and you should to.