The smooth and well-worn handle of an axe or shovel. Dusty cowboys boots, mud-caked and stained with blood. An old farm truck barreling down a county highway. The smell of sweat and leather. Late night empty beds and the uncertainty of family farms. Gasoline and whiskey. Rock n roll and honky tonk. These images make me think of a Sam Shephard’s short stories. They remind me of scenes found in Terrence Malick’s classic film "Badlands". It’s Steve Earle’s "Copperhead Road" and Clint Eastwood in "Unforgiven". And over the past eight years and now four albums, these visions, these smells, these black and white photographs tucked in family Bibles, represent the body of work of one of my favorite singer songwriters: Chris Knight is the workingman’s poet and his latest album "Enough Rope" may be his finest collection of songs since his self-titled debut album back in 1998. Saddle up and pull the hat down over your eyes, Chris Knight’s brand new album rolls through "A One Hoarse Town".
- Shawn Harvey -