Then he plays his guitar and sings and there is a collective intake of breath. He is astounding, his voice gravelly, but pure and beautiful. His songs move easily from ones that want to make you wiggle your bum and dance wildly, gypsey-like, preferably under a huge sky filled with stars, to ones that crumple your heart and bring huge, fat tears that drop almost audibly.
This man has plucked the best of The City Beneath The Mountain’s uber-cool and I feel at once cool and old. We bump into a young
It's fabulous. He's astounding. My "old" body and bones don't want it to end and my heart squelches as he plays this, a song he hasn't played before, a new one, recorded coincidentally by a boy I knew once:
I cried. The look of a boy, with a voice, and a guitar, is unbearably beautiful.