"Yes, now I know, you must reap what you sow. Or sing."

It begins with a breath. A quick inhalation. A gasp. Though what follows contains nary a surprise. It's more of what we've come to count on with Callahan: commanding, stark, understated Americana with lyrics rivaled only by Berman. And, of course, the voice; that unaffected, bottomless baritone always hinting at some deep, enigmatic soul. Who else could breathe new life into the tired metaphor of flowers for women? "She was not a weed; she was a flower."
How could I run without losing anything?
How could I run without becoming lean?

Smog — "Baby's Breath" (from Apocalypse)

Apocalypse comes out 4/19 on Drag City. You can pre-order it from Insound now.


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