goodbye, arizona - there ain't a blue sky here left to hold you.
the water here comes easily to hand,
kills all the things that lay their misdirected roots beneath the sand.
and goodbye to your son - i have cried his name to everyone.
for all his braids, and hands, and creosote skin,
the god pretention was an ugly one.
well there're grapes out on the vine now, klaus.
the time will come someday when i've forgot.
for now, the days come in impenetrable knots.
what was this expectation of return? what code was i expected to discern?
the language you speak is foreign and absurd.
mine's no easier to understand, i'm sure.
but you, i thought a linguist; i thought i'd figured out the whole thing.
so i went out in the yard and i set fire to your face,
soaked that golden throat in butane.
well there's rain up in the mountains, klaus.
go and list me all the wrongs i've done.
you will never hear this song.
but this is not a eulogy,
nor the writing of a history.
you astonish in your clarity.
Nora Brown continues to bring nuance and resonance to her modern interpretation of Appalachian folk and bluegrass on her latest LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 30, 2022
Bright and skipping songs that foreground the sound of the banjo and fingerstyle guitar in music that feels timeless. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 5, 2020
Sweet harmonies & strummed melodies; the duo delve into decades-old folk, jazz, and country to find a timeless kind of love and connection. Bandcamp New & Notable May 23, 2018
This album speaks to the continuum of African diasporic culture that is central to the vibrant canon of Americana folk music. Bandcamp Album of the Day May 29, 2020