ome years ago I almost met Evin Wolverton. We both participated in FAWM more than once, and when I heard he’d moved to the San Francisco area, I invited him to perform at the Northern California Artistic Achievement Awards (The Grassies.) Evin was too sick to make it, and we asked Philip Flathead to fill in, which worked out. Except I didn’t get to meet Evin and tell him in person what his music has done for me.
When I found out Evin had a Kickstarter project for his new album, I chipped in. I had exactly a dollar to my name, and I put it in. Didn’t get me anything; anything less than a ten-spot doesn’t even get a copy of the album when it’s finished. That’s okay; Evin’s art is worth supporting and it’s about time I started giving back to the artists that fill my life.
Except, I did get something. Pretty much won the lottery. (continued)
inding new music that hits me viscerally is sublime. Recently, 
urrently wearing out 
his week I’m trying to write three new songs. This idea came to me a few weeks ago, and when the ending landed in my brain the day before yesterday it wrote itself.
azz musicians occasionally highlight a melody by playing all the notes around it, leaving a hole where it should be. If you’re paying attention, you’ll “hear” it.
ewgrass: it’s what’s for dinner. Okay, maybe that’s not how it goes, but I’ll have 
ut of the dark woods of far northern Scandinavia comes one of the most authentic American folk songwriters I’ve heard. I’ll let 
hy isn’t oddbod famous? Proof positive that talent and fame are not connected. 
oices like this are made for country, and 
