When you cue up a song titled “Highway 1”, you probably anticipate a great driving song. Greg Connors delivers with his new single, which if you let it, will take you on a journey to both your own bitter end and recreation.
“Highway 1” manages to relentlessly unbalance and rebalance its discord and flow. The lyrics have that signature Connors flair, the mercurial duplicity and winking turns of phrase. —
To the best of my recollection, I can’t recall ever being tear-gassed.
My first instinct should probably have been to turn around and run away from the plaza, just like everyone else who went scampering, screaming and covering their mouths. The old, indigenous woman, with the multiple petticoats and black pork pie hat, sitting at her usual location half-way up the block, from whom I usually bought a daily newspaper, suddenly bent over and vomited. Moments before, I had heard a “pop-pop” and saw white, billowing clouds of smoke. A young Ecuatoriano adult, running in a hooded sweatshirt, gave a sudden yelp and stumbled, after getting hit in the leg with one of the tear gas canisters.
My name is Danny M. Cohen, and I’m one half of the Chicago-based gay folk-rock duo They Won’t Win. My “music husband” is Greg Lanier and we wrote and co-produced our debut album over a few years of life’s ups and downs. For me, parts of ‘Lost At Sea’ reflect what it was like to witness a dear friend fall into a dark, frightening place, but, ultimately, our album is about finding your way out.
I have been songwriting in a way from a very young age and used to annoy my parents no end by wandering around, making up songs about everything I had seen and thought when I was a toddler. ‘there goes mum, walking about grumpy, dads always drunk, tra, la, la, la, la.’
Hello friends. We are from the prairies of southern Alberta where it is sparse and dry, kind of like us. We don’t know what we’re doing or what we want, but we think we will continue. Join us as we try not to suck, but also don’t worry too much about being great. We’re just trying to be ok.
Our very first Artist of the Week is Shenandoah and the Night. She offers a haunting, noir-ish sound counter-balanced by bursts of joy and infectious energy. Rootsy enough for folk enthusiasts without sacrificing its modernist edge, Shenandoah and the Night cast a wide net across the spectrums of taste and time, blending and blurring a diverse set of influences that range from the operatic anguish of Nina Simone and Kurt Weill, to the dusky psychedelic sturm und drang of the Doors and Janis Joplin.