The best of these folks who write songs make you think about time, and I find myself thinking about time a lot when I listen to Robert. When he and his Boys are plugged in, the final hours of a night race along in a sweaty, whisky-soaked blur. And when he sits on a stool — with just his guitar, voice and songs — time slows down, as he spins tales of love and life and the way they twist together and are torn apart as we march along to some destination chosen by the great rearranger. We talk about his folk and his country as though they’re hot and cold handles on a faucet. The temperatures are perhaps different but it all has a fluid consistency. There are quieter songs about making a home and louder songs about breaking a home, but they’re all about being here now . . . even if they sound old as time while still being well built for the future. All of it could easily be classified as country, of a sort with the great writers and players Robert studies and admires, from George Jones to Paul Simon. Why deal with something as cold as genres. It’s American music through and through. — Andrew Dansby
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