The Godfather of Americana at his dejected best. The sorrow can be felt in his disheartened finger plucking and his woebegone wails. He sings like a fallen angel destined to walk the Wild West looking for love but only finding more rejection and scorn. The rugged landscape always plays a central role in Townes Van Zandt’s imagery, but nowhere is it so vivid or so breathtaking as it is on Our Mother The Mountain.
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