Some are content to listen. We must play to fill the void. Without playing, the Train still rolls, but inside something is wrong. We play to tank up….and does it feel good!
Our music is not conjured. It chooses us. We don’t play country music, but deep inside it lives – next to rock and punk. These boil inside foaming over like a hastily poured Belgian tripel. This is our Americana. We write words and melodies from inside, that demand an audience. Holding them back is work. Yea, our writing is therapy, but it beats paying a shrink. We are not too proud to play other people’s music. Every time we cover Uncle Tupelo, Son Volt, Lucero, Arthur Dodge, Steve Earle, Ryan Adams. We tip our hat to those who make the music that moves us.