Better than any alarm clock, Box Car No 9 is a fine wake-up song. This album tastes like a story. It feels like a record company owner was walking down the street and heard a guy singing and playing his guitar on the corner. Not having any gigs lined up for the day, he asks the street musician to come into the studio and play. Old street musician says, no way – you’re planning on ruining my music. The record company owner promises he won’t touch a thing, plus he’d buy a bottle of whiskey after the gig. After a few more back and forths, the skeptical street musician agrees to it. The record company owner, true to his word, records the musician warts and all. Something was honest here. Too honest for people to ever listen to. But, it was vital and had to be done. None of this is true. That’s simply what it feels like to me. Kinda like 100 years ago when I heard George Thorogood singing One Bourbon One Scotch and One Beer. The old song that I had enjoyed so many times before sounded fresh, new, and like it was written on the spot in the studio. It still sounds that way to me. God acting. Guitar Red may also be a great actor, but it doesn’t matter because he exudes honesty the same way George did in his day. Some of his is carried out on the final track, whereon a “hidden track” Guitar Red says "This is what I need, the freedom to express myself. Creativity to be who I am." And it sounds real. Warts and all. I’m sold on the act that calls itself Guitar Red, and I bet if you take the opportunity to seek out his purity and fresh approach at slapping me silly with the direct approach of “me and my guitar will sing you all the truth.”
Life is so great. I’m glad that Guitar Red is now a part of my world. This Monday wake-up has made a promise of sincerity with a great week to come. Shoutouts for Three Legged Dog Blues and Lightnin' In A Bottle. Guitar Red
