Return of the Grievous Angel
It was only this past summer when I discovered Gillian Welch. Quietly creeping away from the lingering smoke and flat beer shadows of a deserted corner in a cobweb bar, I climbed into my truck and took off for the backroads under a paper moon and teardrop stars. I was losing my girl. I was losing my friends. I was broke and without a job. All dogs within a five-mile radius of me were dead.

