I have a habit of taking over the entire sugar station with my bags, but have made a mental note and decided to reform. It’s tough, but after awhile it’s even tougher looking over your shoulder, as you leave, and listening to all the disgruntled, pissed-off, grouchy, over-caffeinated people who’d swear you move about as fast as a slug. (They’d be right, though. I’m slow. Knife me, I don’t care.)
Back in early June, I had the pleasure of watching his set down at Rockwood Music Hall.
While lyrically, some of his songs wreak of that overplayed coffee, sex, and cigarettes, blah, blah, blah, take your pills dear sentimentality, I’m pretty sure I’m probably the only person who feels that way about them. No one else, including the gaggle of females I was sitting next to, seemed to mind very much. Even I didn’t mind very much, which is saying something, because I am oh-so-jaded.
His vocals are refreshing, refreshing in that “almost-haunted” sort of way.
They’re so refreshing I decided to film a clip.
Watch the clip and appreciate the synergy between instruments and vocals, because at a super small, super-packed venue like Rockwood, it’s pretty damn hard not to have one always overpowering the other. (That place is packed like sardines, no joke.) It helps that he had a three week residency there to acclimate, but still, I was impressed. (On the night I visited, Rockwood had actually asked him back, so it was after his official residency had ended.)
And after you’ve checked out the clip above and decided if he’s your style, check out his Myspace, his website, and follow him on Twitter. Then, if he floats your boat, throw on your skankiest hippy outfit, head down to Rockwood on the Lower East Side tonight, and duh, become a groupie already.
Because after watching him, I seriously have to wonder why isn’t more famous.
And let’s be real, RogueRanters, what could possibly be hotter in MusicLand than an artist who is just on the cusp of something really big?
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