is perhaps the best kind of dreamboat--one who is already betting on intimacy's work lasting longer than the glitter of high winds and long kisses. His songs hint at the golden lining of beginnings, but focus more fully on the entropy that he insists is where romance can be trusted in its exposure. These are not odes to melodrama or highliving. Connell's voice is plaintive, and he howls and croons not to sweep you off your feet, but to make your gut swing because he can call you on the lost moments of driving your car, standing at a party, cutting coupons, lost in the whammy of the world and one's place in it. Grandiose. Yes. The stuff of literature. Yes. These are odes to our empty pantries--the ones only holding candied yams and rice--that are
in most homes, both the happy and the sordid.
Labels: alt folk song, apostrophecast, Athens Georgia, Brian Connell, literary podcast, the sordid