Dylan Earl returns to York with his buddy Chris Acker all the way from Arkansas.
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Among the artists rising up from the fertile twang-fields of Northwest Arkansas, Dylan Earl might just make the music that goes down smoothest...On [his third album] I Saw the Arkansas, he’s got road-weary ramblers, raucous honky-tonkers, stone-washed Southern soul, and timeless tear-in-my-beer ballads, all done with impressive nuance and attention to detail. - Bandcamp Daily
On his third full-length album, “I Saw the Arkansas,”. . . Dylan Earl further hones the very convincing loner country-boy schtick… His signature croon — hushed and sleepy and stretching for the lowest and saddest notes — drifts over spare upright piano flourishes and unhurried pedal steel like someone slowly driving a truck through open landscapes, cursed by wanderlust. Standout tracks include “White Painted Trees” and “Buddy.” - Daniel Greer, Arkansas Times
In a genre full of tall tales and marketable lies, Chris Acker crafts candid songs – weaving his wit and woes into a body of work that exposes the stale plight of the American Songster to the honest, and sometimes hilarious, light of day.
Since leaving his childhood home of Seattle, Washington, Chris Acker has called the haggard decadence of the New Orleans Americana world his purlieu. In the tradition of Guthrie and Prine, Chris lends a quavering voice to the half-rotten romance of the unremarkable and unrefined.
Some hard-times don’t happen behind plows, they happen behind dish-pits and cash registers. Some ramblers don’t feel the hot breath of freedom, just the smell of car exhaust and a couch for a bed. From the folk revival through the golden age of country music, deafened by punk shows and brass bands alike, Chris’s songwriting is a nod to the absurd yet muted brilliance that inhabits the molded corners of the bars he patrons and cratered street he treads, paired with a pained honesty that merits a long second look. garholerecords.com