In another life the faded troubadour still exists, Nashville still has a soul and songs are worth their weight in pain. But in this life pain and truth, poetry and soul aren't even commodities; they're liabilities. To this end it remains that James Jackson Toth, Wooden Wand, Wand and the flame that burns behind those names will always play to underfed crowds. There are some artists that we'll never seem to lose touch with around here and with each record that scratches out from behind the Wooden Wand table, the dedication grows stronger. Through turmoil and celebration Toth has wound a world of idioms and ghosts, personal vocabulary and universal truths. There are some that will never connect with these songs, but for the rest of us, coming home to the boot dust and whiskey hits every time like the heavy sent of a favorite bar. Some records just smell like wood soaked in beer and Death Seat is definitely one of those few good friends.
[MP3] Wooden Wand - Servant To Blues
[MP3] Wooden Wand - Tiny Confessions
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