CD Odyssey Disc 1839: David Francey

I’ve had a long day and I’m feeling a bit worn out, but reviewing every single album in my collection is not going to happen by accident, so let’s get to it.

Disc 1839 is…Right of Passage

Artist: David Francey

Year of Release: 2007

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a dory. I was quite pleased to know this without looking it up, but I admit I wasn’t so certain that I didn’t then check anyway to make sure.

This is a fine little dory but appears to be cut adrift. Where is the owner? Maybe it’s fine and is anchored down below that white bumper in the upper right. I sure hope so, because otherwise that bumper is doing very little other than making the framing of this photo look awkward.

How I Came To Know It: I went on a bit of a David Francey binge about seven or eight years ago, and nothing escaped my zeal at the time, including this.

How It Stacks Up: I have 9 David Francey albums (see ‘binge’ reference directly above).  I put this one in at #6.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Right of Passage” has everything there is to like about David Francey. If you know his stuff well, it won’t necessarily be your “go to” #1 record, but it has a few gems that makes it worth a visit.

For those new to David Francey (and even longtime readers of my blog will have had a five year gap since my last review), he is a Scottish born Canadian folk singer-songwriter. Francey’s albums pick a lane and stay in it, and “Right of Passage” sees him still approaching things like he’s done from the start. This means gentle guitar picking and Francey’s light brogue telling stories about regular life in a way that makes you really appreciate regular life.

No one makes the ordinary extraordinary like Francey. His music has no guile or subterfuge, relying on simple heartfelt stories, many of which are little more than snippets, images or short moments. Metaphors are rare and when they appear it is almost by accident, with the songs much more likely to just rely on a good telling over any literary artifice.

This could easily be boring (one could imagine the Folksmen trio from the mockumentary “A Mighty Wind” extolling the virtues of having “never did no wanderin’”). LINK Never fear, because Francey’s homespun honesty elevates life in its purest lived form. Also, he has done some wanderin’.

Take “A Conversation” as an example. The song is nothing more than a chance encounter with an ex – but don’t expect drama or heartache. Francey’s music sees the world three quarters full. One of many “aww…shucks” verses:

“And so we passed a pleasant day
And so we went our separate ways
To do what life gave us to do
Hasn’t time been kind to you.”

There are plenty of human moments like this on the record, as well as a few more where Francey is inspired by places (Edmonton, Kansas and the Oregon Coast to name just three). Even at his saddest reverie, Francey finds a way to make music his therapy and by extension, yours as well.

Francey albums will sometimes dip a toe in the headlines of the day, and one of the best songs on “Right of Passage” is “Jerusalem.” It is a sad tale of an oft-renewed conflict, and you can hear how the whole experience just breaks Francey’s giant, gracious heart.

Francey’s talent is as a songwriter, and while these songs have the same melodic structures of his previous records (and I mean they sound a LOT like those previous songs) they are a winning formula that I’m glad he doesn’t stray from.

He also attracts the right musicians to help him out. Guitarist Craig Werth’s quiet playing adds colour and nuance to Francey’s vocals. Also, a huge shout out to the multitude of voices on “All Lights Burning Bright”. This song also appears on the David Francey/Mike Ford nautical compilation “Seaway” (reviewed back at Disc 1219). Both are good, but for my tastes, the version on “Right of Passage” is just a step up, and the chorus work is a big part of why.

The record is not perfect, and there are a couple of songs where Francey’s dangerous proximity to schmaltz fails him – notably the clunky “Their Wedding Day”. Does picking on a joy filled David Francey song about a wedding make me a monster, dear reader? Maybe a little.

Best tracks: Leaving Edmonton, A Conversation, New Jerusalem, All Lights Burning Bright

CD Odyssey Disc 1341: David Francey

It was only three weeks ago when I was fortunate enough to see David Francey perform live (reviewed here), and now I’m fortunate enough to roll one of his albums!

Disc 1341 is…So Say We All

Artist: David Francey

Year of Release: 2013

What’s up with the Cover? David Francey walks down an alley, or at least that’s what several witnesses later reported. Are they sure it was David Francey? Did they ever see his face? This guy could be anyone!

Sorry, that’s as exciting as I can make this “guy walks down an alley” album cover.

How I Came to Know It: It was part of a flurry of David Francey purchases I made after I read about him in a folk magazine and got excited.

How It Stacks Up: If you’re reading along, you already know how many David Francey albums I have. Of those, I put “So Say We All” smack-dab in the middle at #5. I think it could be #4 on a good day, but for now I’ll stick with #5, while reserving the right to change my mind.

Ratings: 4 stars

David Francey songs are like ACDC songs – they all sound vaguely the same and they all sound good. The similarities end at the high and very subjective level, of course. Francey’s no rock god. He tells true blue Canadian stories that are stripped down folk songs, delivered with heart and pathos.

Francey is a natural storyteller, and his gravelly baritone vocals, tinged with more than an echo of his Scottish birthplace, are the perfect delivery system for his tales. He doesn’t do anything special technically. “So Say We All” is his 10^th studio release and he sticks doggedly to his well-established formula. This consists of a short rhyming couplet, followed by a second, or maybe a refrain if he’s feeling particularly reflective.

However obvious it may seem (even the melodies have the same familiar lilt) I wouldn’t change a thing. He’s the master of his craft, and his easy rhymes are only easy after he sets them before you and they drop naturally into place like they’ve always been there. His delivery is only so carefree because his phrasing sits so beautifully in the pocket you don’t notice him doing it. We should all wish we could deliver art with such apparent ease and grace.

Ten albums in has its own set of advantages as well. For one thing, the production on this record is brilliantly balanced, with a thick and rich tone to every note that doesn’t exist on his earlier stuff where, presumably, he had a smaller budget.

Over the years Francey has also gathered around him some wonderful musicians who share his mastery of homespun charm. Francey sings and writes the songs, but he wisely gives way on the instruments to some great players. Mark Westberg (guitar), Darren McMullen (mandolin, bouzouki), and Chris Coole (banjo, dobro) give the record a tumbling energy that matches Francey’s. Mark Westberg in particular, with his percussive style on the guitar, makes the record feel awake and visceral, like you’re hearing a busker on a city street, or an impromptu performance beside a fireplace in some snowed-in cabin.

Francey is a folk singer without pretense. He’s not here to protest – necessarily, and he’s not here to paint a pretty picture – again, necessarily – he just writes what he sees with an almost childlike wonder, and lets his listener’s judgment take it from there.

A good example is “Cheap Motel,” which is a song about…a cheap motel. Francey gives you a vivid picture of every cheap motel you’ve ever seen:

“Behind the stairs and the Coke machine

Down in the corner, sight unseen

In the cheap motel”

With the denizens of the place that ground it in the lives of real characters:

“The girl at the desk, she’s learning guitar

Watching the faces, counting the cars.

In the cheap motel

“Works by herself, likes it alone

Eyes looking through you, harder than stone.

In the cheap motel.”

You can tell this is one specific girl, but Francey simultaneously gives voice to the countless girls like her, eking out an honest living on the edge of an uncaring highway.

On “Pandora’s Box” Francey tackles the internet, and how its powers can be used for good or ill. It has a bit of “old guy encounters tech” to it, but the sad and haunted way Francey sings the chorus:

“Hasp and hinges broken

Pandora’s box wide open.”

Makes it feel honest and real.

This authenticity is Francey’s greatest gift. A love song like “A Star Above” could feel dated and trite in the wrong hands. With Francey singing it feels timeless, like it fell out of the pocket of a seventeenth century Cavalier poet. A couple killer mandolin solos from Darren McMullen don’t hurt either.

“So Say We All” features modern recordings, but the songs were written across Francey’s earlier career (1999-2008). How these songs never made it on an earlier record is beyond me, but I’m glad that this time they survived the cut.

Best tracks: Rain, Cheap Motel, Pandora’s Box, Satellite, American Blues, A Star Above

Concert Review: David Francey

Another break with tradition, as tonight I’m going to review a live show, but not a studio album (usually it’s the opposite). Francey’s last album was 2018, and while I own it, it is no longer “new to me”. I’ve decided to wait until I roll it, rather than pull it off the shelf because he came to town.

In any event, on January 15, Sheila and I braved the freezing cold weather to join our friend Casey and his two daughters for Canadian folk singer David Francey. Here’s how it looked:

Here’s how it went:

The Concert: January 15, 2020 at Hermann’s Jazz Club, Victoria

I hadn’t been in Hermann’s Jazz club in over twenty-five years, and I was excited to see the place again. As a young man I went there for a couple of years because I knew it was frequented by a woman I was interested in (maybe two, details are hazy) and because I had decided that I was going to damned well embrace jazz until I learned to like it.

Despite substantial effort, I never successfully wooed a woman there, and never learned to enjoy jazz either, but I still I have good memories of the place. It was great to return, the more so knowing I wouldn’t have to listen to any jazz. Hermann’s is a Victoria institution, with its low ceiling and brick walls and speakeasy feel, it is like a club out of a forgotten era. It is a wonderful place with a great vibe, and I’ve always felt welcome there.

That remained true. If anything, it felt more informal and relaxed than I remembered. When we arrived, the band was still doing a sound-check (likely delayed by the snowy weather) and it was fun to just watch them do their thing. Then they disappeared, and our attentive (but never intrusive) server brought us burgers, fries and chicken strips (the latter being a favourite of at least one of Casey’s kids).

The two-hour wait between the dinner reservation and the show went pretty fast, and before you knew it Francey was on stage, joined by a couple of guest musicians: fiddler Pierre Schryer and guitar player Adam Dobres; both well known in the local scene. Schryer was new to me, but I’ve known Adam Dobres dating all the way back to his early days with Outlaw Social (last reviewed back at Disc 754). I’ve always loved his guitar playing, and nothing’s changed.

On this night he and Schryer did an artful job of backing David Francey. Recognizing these were simple folk songs, Schryer played with no frills, while still providing a rich and honeyed tone that lets every note soak in. Dobres laid down gentle strums and pick-patterns that were subtle and beautiful. Neither ever interfered with Francey’s narrative tales, but instead provided an extra layer of emotion underneath. Combined, it was some of the most unselfish playing I’ve witnessed.

Francey was getting over a bout of bronchitis, and his voice was not 100%. He warned the audience at the beginning of this but promised to give us everything he had. He lived up to that promise, and while his voice cracked a couple of times, it held up remarkably well, and even improved through the night as he worked it up.

I’ve only known Francey’s music for a couple of years, but I’ve bought a ton of his records in that time. He’s not a radio star, and it was fun having no idea which songs of all the ones I knew were concert favourites. Turns out “Paperboy” and “Empty Train” were big and recognized hits based on the audience reaction.

I liked those songs fine, but frankly they were all good. Many were written many years ago, but Francey always sang them with a heartfelt approach that made you feel like he was performing them for the first time.

Francey’s a natural storyteller, and in front of every song but one, he talked about what had inspired him to write it. On that one song (“Torn Screen Door”) he talked about it after. He reminded me of Billy Bragg with his gift for the gab, and for making a relaxed connection with the audience. In one introduction, he even showed off his terrible dance moves. They are indeed terrible. Hilarious, but terrible.

A couple of times he talked the song out a bit too much, particularly when he would describe imagery that he later used in the song, but for the most part it felt unassuming and natural.

When he was singing, his rich Scottish brogue soaked over you. The sound was clear but never sharp, and it felt like you were sitting in someone’s living room.

The only negative part of the experience was some guy near me doing the thing I hate most at any show. He thought he knew the words to Francey's songs, but for the most part, he didn't. On songs he vaguely recognized (about a quarter of them) he'd sort of sing along too loud, but always slightly behind the beat as he "remembered" the lyrics just after Francey sang them. The worst part was the show had all kinds of opportunities for audience participation, with Francey encouraging us to help out with many a chorus. There was no reason to create a weird half-echo on the verses.

Anyway, it was a great show, and while only one of the three songs I was hoping to hear got played (“The Waking Hour”) the tracks that did make the cut were great. Francey did two sets and played almost twenty songs. The encore was only one song, which was disappointing, but only from the perspective of not wanting the show to end.

CD Odyssey Disc 1219: David Francey and Mike Ford

I spent today buying household items that I had neglected for many years before finally having to admit they needed replacing. Despite all that, it has been a pretty nice Saturday. Now that the chores are over I plan to reward myself in what remains in the afternoon by exploring some music, starting with this review.

Disc 1219 is… Seaway

Artist: David Francey and Mike Ford

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? Some kind of freighter sits tranquilly in some water body. Not a lot of landmarks to provide clues as to where we are, but I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest it is the Saint Lawrence Seaway.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of a later album of David Francey’s in Penguin Egg magazine. This started me on a joyful journey through his back catalogue. “Seaway” was one of the ports of call.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 10 David Francey albums, but only this one shares a billing with fellow Canadian folk singers Mike Ford. Ford has equal billing and equal contributions making “Seaway” a collaborative project. Consequently, I won’t stack it up against Francey’s other 9 albums.

Ratings:  3 stars

“Seaway” is a folk album devoted entirely to working on freighters in the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway. This is a lot of music about one very specific experience, but for the most part David Francey and Mike Ford manage to pull it off.

The album was the result of Ford and Francey spending two weeks aboard the MV Algoville and writing about their experiences. At its best the experience is wonderfully immersive, and at its worse it feels like some kind of CBC after-school special intent on educating you about Canadian history. I love my country but sometimes we can become a bit too self-absorbed in ensuring all of our art reflects on some aspect of our history, rather than just focusing on making the best art possible.

On “Seaway” felt a bit preachy, but mostly Francey and Ford demonstrate a deep, abiding and honest love for these stories. They provide a positive and powerful voice for the those who work thankless jobs up and down the St. Lawrence. Sometimes this work is overly romanticized, but mostly you just get a sense of respect for folks who put in long days in hard conditions.

This album is a love letter to the working man. The Captain gets some time, but the perspectives are mostly the everyday worker: the engineer, the cargo loader, the labourer and the school boy who dreams of one day being one of them.  Many of the stories are about actual people Ford and Francey met, and reading about them in the liner notes made me enjoy the songs that much more.

I didn’t like that the album was 16 songs long, which is too long for any album. Adding to my frustration was that 4 of the 8 David Francey songs appear on his earlier albums, meaning I paid for them twice. They fit thematically, and they are new versions, but they aren’t sufficiently different to make it worth it.

On the plus side having Mike Ford’s vocals and songs alternating through the record works well. Francey has a lovely Scottish brogue in his singing, and Ford’s lighter more airy vocals provided a good contrast, and keep you engaged.

In addition to the more traditional sea chanty songs, Ford throws in some fairly ambitious decisions. “There’s No Rush” has steel drums and a Caribbean feel to it, and “21^st Century Great Lake Navigators” answers the oft-asked question “what would happen if you took a Canadian folk song, turned it into a rap, and then sang it through a telephone receiver?” I’m sure you’ve all asked yourself this question as well. The result is…surprisingly OK. Most hilarious line…

“It’s a seaway, it’s a freeway

Moving the goods like a mega-mega e-Bay.”

Yeah – it is pretty nerdy, but also kind of fun. It is this kind of song that shows Ford’s pop-humour roots (he was once in the nineties band Moxy Fruvous).

Near the end of the record, Ford channels Gordon Lightfoot’s  “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” with “The Bottom of the Great Lakes” a song that honours all the wrecks and souls lost sailing the treacherous great lakes.

The album ends with “All Lights Burning Bright,” a line Francey lifts from the ship’s log entry near the end of their time aboard the MV Algoville. My joy for the song was lessened with the knowledge that it was a repeat from his 2007 album “Right of Passage” but it is still a good song by any measure, with a rolling rhythm reminiscent of the sea and a story that shows the quiet pride in piloting a large ship through shallow waters.

“Seaway” is a good record, marred at times by its obsession with educating its listeners rather than letting the art speak for itself. However, the love for its subject matter shines through and for the most part allows you to overlook its faults.

Best tracks: Banks of the Seaway, the Chief Engineer, There’s No Rush, Ashtabula, The Bottom of the Great Lakes, All Lights Burning Bright.

CD Odyssey Disc 1197: David Francey

My bus broke down this morning and I had to walk to work. It’s funny, I never thought to mention it to anyone since I first arrived at work. The truth is, it didn’t feel like a big deal at the time and it doesn’t now. It helped that it wasn’t raining, wasn’t terribly cold and I had an amazing album to keep me company. Let’s expound on that last item, since this is a music review blog and not a weather report.

Disc 1197 is…The Waking Hour

Artist: David Francey

Year of Release: 2004

What’s up with the Cover? David enjoys a cup of coffee in the early morning sun. Simple but thoughtful, just like this record.

How I Came To Know It: I read about him in a folk music magazine and decided to check him out. I liked him a lot.

How It Stacks Up:  I already owned seven David Francey albums when I reviewed my first in May. I am now up to 10. I’ve bought his albums with such gleeful abandon I have no idea which ones are the best for sure, but I suspect “Waking Hour” will do well when the dust settles. It is in a dead heat with “Skating Rink” (reviewed back at Disc 1143). Depending on how I feel at the moment I would rank them 2-3, but in exactly what order is hard to say. Today I’ll put “The Waking Hour” just behind, but tomorrow I’ll put it just ahead. It is that close.

Ratings: 4 stars

On “The Waking Hour” David Francey takes his ability to observe everyday details and makes them extraordinary, and takes universal experiences and makes them intensely personal. In short, he is a born poet.

To listen to a David Francey album is to walk through an ordinary day and feel like you are seeing it in colour for the first time. On “The Waking Hour” we get to wake up with Francey, sometimes experience his existential (often romantic) doubt and sometimes just explore the dangers that lurk in the morning news broadcast. Whatever you are doing, it feels more important and universal. I do a fair bit of existential musing myself, and hearing a record like this was a reminder that inspiration for art is all around us.

Sometimes the songs take a highly personal bent, such as on the title track. The song has a sublime bit of finger picking from guitarist Kieran Kane that is favourably reminiscent of Simon and Garfunkel’s “April Come She Will”. It also has a touching mix of sorrow and innocence, made more poignant by mixing in old nursery rhyme lines (“I am Wednesday’s child of woe/I try not to be ungrateful”) paired with adult admissions of anger and darkness (“But I was born at midnight’s black/With a heart that can be hateful.”). With each line ending with a chorus of quiet desperation, as Francey observes:

“And the heart that’s breaking

Never makes a sound.”

‘nuff said.

OK, I’ve wiped my tears and I’m moving on. There are plenty of other songs of similar ilk on the record, but Francey also explores America in all its many facets. Francey is Scottish by birth (with accent to prove it) and Canadian by choice. Many songs on “The Waking Hour” explore the United States with a wide-eyed innocence of an artist determined to see the world, as Akira Kurosawa might say, “with eyes unclouded by hate”. These songs will give you a serious case of the feels.

“Highway 95” has Francey traveling through the Carolinas, filled with the wonder of the beauty of it all and a slightly unsettled feeling of knowing that while beautiful, this place is not home.

The album holds a lot of forgiveness. “Morning Train” is an appeal for unity and tolerance, even as “Fourth of July” is a recognition that in the wake of 9/11 that America is filled with grief and anger. Francey doesn’t judge one way or another, and when he does you can tell it is only part of the process of him trying to better understand. It is an approach that will be put hard to the test on the album’s best song.

That would be “Wishing Well,” where Francey recounts what it was like for him to wake to the morning news announcing that the Oklahoma Bomber had been executed. The song is a mix of Francey struggling with trying to feel compassion for someone guilty of such a monstrous act:

“I should feel compassion, I know I should

I don’t know if his dying does any good

He was good as gone when the building fell

When they ran out of wishes at the wishing well.”

And the stark imagery of death by lethal injection:

“Lying on his back, eyes open wide

And the prick of the needle and the silent slide

The Press lined up, with their stories to tell

How there’s no more wishes at the wishing well.”

The song has a finality in its delivery that underscores how Francey sees the waste of it all. It is a lament over one of the most terrible crimes in American history at the moment the world focused all its attention on the killer one last time.

The record is more than just great writing, however. Every musician is at the top of their game, providing a gently rolling lilt that perfectly matches Francey’s effortless delivery. You hang on every word, yes, but it is easier to do when the musicianship is so free and easy.

Listening to “the Waking Hour” I only had two regrets. First, that Francey got started on his music career so late in life. Second, that it took me so damned long to find him. I’m glad to be making up for lost time.

Best tracks: The Waking Hour, Highway 95, Ankle Tattoo, Wishing Well, Over You, Fourth of July

CD Odyssey Disc 1143: David Francey

Last weekend I cleaned out those kitchen drawers that slowly accumulate clutter that has nothing to do with a functioning kitchen. Most of the stuff ended up in the trash, but I found two old ticket stubs from 1991. One was for Colin James playing the Powell River Complex in May ($21.60). I would have been home for the summer working between university terms back then. The other one was for Loreena McKennitt at the University Centre ($13) in November.

I remember the McKennitt show as one of my top three concerts of all time. I cried when she played Bonnie Portmore. This likely did not score points with my date, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t cry at Colin James, which was a largely forgettable show. I went because entertainment options in Powell River were limited.

Disc 1143 is… Skating Rink

Artist: David Francey

Year of Release: 2003

What’s up with the Cover? Did I mention this guy is Canadian?

How I Came To Know It: I read an article about him in the magazine Penguin Egg about three months ago. Then I went and checked out his music.

How It Stacks Up:  I have fallen for David Francey hard, going from “who’s he?” to “I must have all his music!” in a few short weeks. So far I have seven of his albums with three more on my “to get” list. Because of my reckless and indiscriminate dive into his collection I have no idea which one is best at this point, but “Skating Rink” is very good. I’ll go with third for now and reserve the right to modify it up or down as I give the others the same time I gave this one.

Ratings: 4 stars

I don’t know how I went so long not knowing David Francey. Call it an unhappy lack of judgment I’ve since recovered from. “Skating Rink” is another great record by him; heartfelt, honest and so casually beautiful you’d think he did it by accident.

While he may not have the same historical pedigree as Stan Rogers or Gordon Lightfoot, Francey is every bit their equal and belongs in any conversation with them about Canada’s great folk singer-songwriters. He is that good.

Francey doesn’t have a massive range but his tone is rich and his phrasing is second to none. He also has a delightful touch of the Scottish brogue of his birthplace (Francey came to Canada at age 12). I don’t know how that didn’t wear off years ago, but I’m glad it’s there.

The guitar work is also beautiful. It is characterized by a heavy hand that isn’t afraid to make those strings speak their truths, yet never feels overbearing. It feels insistent. Francey’s got something important to say, and that guitar is determined to punctuate the sermon.

Francey writes within the traditional musical structures of traditional folk music, but it never feels dated or derivative. Instead, it feels timeless, holding you in a gentle sway like the sea and letting you drift into a daydream into which Francey pours his tales.

Francey got a very late start in the music business – he worked in blue collar jobs until he switched to singing full time at the age of 45. He benefits from the maturity of all that experience, and you can feel the weight of years on him. It doesn’t weigh him down though; it gives him depth and substance.

There are plenty of love songs on “Skating Rink” many of them that approach hoke territory, but never cross over. The best of these is “Broken Glass” which captures what it feels like when new love leaves you fragile and breathless. As Francey sings it:

“When you hear a sound like broken glass

That’s my heart every time that girl walks past

When you hear a sound like the rush of wind

It’s just me catching my breath again.”

Francey is the master of capturing a moment in time, instilling it with import and lasting substance. On “Skating Rink” he captures the excitement of youth “laughing in the face of the darkness at the lonely heart of winter”. On “Streets of Calgary” he captures the bravado of a street walker as she propositions him “in a voice as hard as nails you sighed ‘Do you want some company?’” It’s sad and tough in equal proportion.

On “Midway” the guitar’s insistent bass note rings, surrounded by the twinkle of lighter strings, capture the lights at the local amusement park as they flare out, the sun comes up and the season prepares to end. This song has just as much world-weary wonder and romance as Mark Knopfler or Bruce Springsteen managed with the same topic.

The guitar solo that serves as the bridge of this song is sublime and the song sends you on your way with a wan and wistful verse…

“Down on the midway, down on the midway

Night turns into day, down at the fair

Young girls in a house of mirrors

Combing their hair

Rag end of summer hangs

Up in the air.”

“Midway” is the seasonal exception on the record though, and for the most part it was a little odd hearing so many winter-themed songs as I walked home on a warm spring evening. Fortunately the themes are so intimate it felt like I was experiencing them wrapped in a warm blanket.

Sun or snow was ultimately irrelevant, though. No matter what cares I had over the past three days, every time I pushed play on “Skating Rink” it immediately grabbed my attention, sending me into a musical reverie that connected me to the music, my country and to humanity in general. I’m looking forward to rolling my next David Francey album, but at least I’ll have “Skating Rink” to keep me warm while I wait.

Best tracks: Broken Glass, Midway, Belgrade Train, Streets of Calgary, Annie’s House, Nearly Midnight