Reviews
Flying High
Crowsong is a highly accomplished trio led by multi-instrumentalist and master slide guitarist Randy Clark. After a largely instrumental debut, they’ve expanded their sound to include vocals and more textures. Think Ry Cooder meets Neil Young and Crazy Horse with an alt-country/blues penchant and a tad of Bob Dylan thrown in for good measure. The ragged vocals have an endearing quality while the lopping instrumental grooves are cinematic in scope. Crowsong’s music is vibrant and atmospheric, ranging from delicate slide instrumentals to searing electric epics.
Crowsong is a highly accomplished trio led by multi-instrumentalist and master slide guitarist Randy Clark. After a largely instrumental debut, they’ve expanded their sound to include vocals and more textures. Think Ry Cooder meets Neil Young and Crazy Horse with an alt-country/blues penchant and a tad of Bob Dylan thrown in for good measure. The ragged vocals have an endearing quality while the lopping instrumental grooves are cinematic in scope. Crowsong’s music is vibrant and atmospheric, ranging from delicate slide instrumentals to searing electric epics.
Relix Magazine
Aquarian Weekly
By Al Muzer
A master guitarist with a slide style to envy, a vibrato that melts butter, one of the sweetest tones since Ry Cooder and the chops and flash of Blow By Blow Jeff Beck -- Randy Clark came up with sounds other axe-men had yet to imagine on 1999's all-instrumental Dark Comes Light.
Defying expectation thanks to his surprising revisit of the twangier tunes contained on that excellent outing, the utterly engrossing Western glows thanks to Clark's rich, warm, Tim Buckley-meets-Mike Scott-meets-Roger McGuinn-ish vocals, plenty of well-played banjo, mandolin and acoustic, and an edgy, Steve Earle-like vibe.
Opening with a lilting, Comes A Time-meets-Jayhawks-meets-Byrds front porch picker ("My Girl") that'd sound great on radio -- additional highlights on a disc that'll hit you in the heart more often than not include the brilliantly penned "Old Rt.13"; the appropriately titled "Badlands"; the Nitty Gritty chug of "Two Manhattans"; an eight minute sonic overload of road-weary splang called "Drive"; and a raw 'n' rangy roots-rocker called "Separate Ways" that boasts the hook "If when you wake up, you don‚t see me in the mornin', we must have gone our Separate Ways."
By Al Muzer
A master guitarist with a slide style to envy, a vibrato that melts butter, one of the sweetest tones since Ry Cooder and the chops and flash of Blow By Blow Jeff Beck -- Randy Clark came up with sounds other axe-men had yet to imagine on 1999's all-instrumental Dark Comes Light.
Defying expectation thanks to his surprising revisit of the twangier tunes contained on that excellent outing, the utterly engrossing Western glows thanks to Clark's rich, warm, Tim Buckley-meets-Mike Scott-meets-Roger McGuinn-ish vocals, plenty of well-played banjo, mandolin and acoustic, and an edgy, Steve Earle-like vibe.
Opening with a lilting, Comes A Time-meets-Jayhawks-meets-Byrds front porch picker ("My Girl") that'd sound great on radio -- additional highlights on a disc that'll hit you in the heart more often than not include the brilliantly penned "Old Rt.13"; the appropriately titled "Badlands"; the Nitty Gritty chug of "Two Manhattans"; an eight minute sonic overload of road-weary splang called "Drive"; and a raw 'n' rangy roots-rocker called "Separate Ways" that boasts the hook "If when you wake up, you don‚t see me in the mornin', we must have gone our Separate Ways."