you sir, are grizzled!
with a wardrobe that looks like it was donated to a thrift store by either crosby, stills
or nash in 1971 and a beard that has its own zip code, this indie icon has a devout army
of worshippers who follow his every whispered word.
the lethargic lo-fi lethario is known to lock himself in a cabin for months on end to
craft minimalistic folksy songs. by the end of his self-imposed exile, all he has produced
is a stream of hushed whispers with barely fingerpicked guitar strums. his musical works
are recommended by doctors as a suitable alternative for ambien. in a matter of verses he
could put down an army of mexican wrestlers hopped up on redbull.
one might say his songs give them the chills, but that is only because they passed out
listening and forgot to get a blanket.
<< back to scenesters
iron and wine