what it is.

Another road, another aching heart; these are the things we have resigned ourselves to, here in twenty first century America. With a cocktail of weariness and restlessness; like a speedball, American music carries on down a long dusty road: because it has to. But it's just too damn lonesome to go that road alone, so we form brotherhoods, we construct families, we lash ourselves together in bands.
These boys have been friends for ten-fifteen year or more. There is even two generations of family in there too. Sean Fahlen, Kevin Burwick, Capt. Ed Brady, Mike Troolines, and Charlie Breneman; these are a bunch of boys-Men-players helping each other along with their load of weary and restless tunes, thru Hell And Half Of Georgia.
This is music that is just trying to get down THAT path, one step at a time, in search of a little shade and water. This is music that claws, sometimes flailing-ly, at the road with slide guitar, harmonica and trash can percussion. This is music that awakens the sleeping drifter inside us all, and forces us to look toward the horizon. 
As Americans, we must eventually come to terms with with the fact that our national spirit is forever linked to the Horatio Algiers and the Woody Guthries. These boys understand that, but then are also presented with a conflict. This band is made up of born-and-raised southern Californians, and what exactly is one to do when their D.N.A. is encoded with the pioneer spirit, and they are born inside the chalk lines, where the frontier finally ran out of room and dried up under the noon day Sun. This is new American Music for a new American problem. Or, as Buddyhead recently described it- "This is New American Folk, reclaimed from the hippies".