With a humble combination of sources, Papa M has traditionally traced his music from aboriginal blues all the way through the rock and on into 21st century classical (wait for it), exploring moments via an audio-diary verite. With each encroaching moment of Highway Songs, it sounds to us more and more like good old Papa M, as David throws back the veil of tears from recent times to bear witness to miasmic moodclouds passing not over but THROUGH him. Music from where the mind goes when the body is broken. Reflecting time spent hooked up to machines. A good person with bad thoughts, a story told in fragments picked up off the bathroom floor. Smashed cuts. Highway Songs is the songs of a new man, but one made up of the old man with a few new metal parts inserted in key areas of the legs. There's kind of a "Rear Window" quality to the record — watching suspiciously from a wheelchair at the comings and goings of the world around you, sorting out where the bodies are buried, making wild accusations, almost dying and eventually falling in love again and gaining release from the bondage of your own body.