Liner notes
I spent most of one winter driving the pass between Tacoma and anywhere else, with the radio picking up late-night call-in shows between the static. This record is what I heard out there: ice machines, ferry rails, waiting rooms, and one man playing guitar under a lamp. The sound got slower and heavier, and I let the drummer sit way back behind the beat. Nobody was in a hurry, least of all me.
Rue Calloway-Voss