This Ryan Bingham, has what we call a soulful voice. The kind that can call to “th’ lord” but still be respected by a businessman, because it calls up that same longing that anybody might feel.
He calls out to be brought home, and the tambourine kept beat, Which posts that longing along, whether anyone knows anymore where that home is or not, he sure could tell ya whether he’s there or not.
Our song here opens with a wandering harmonica, one that abides by its own melody, and builds freefully into this southside of heaven song, which is plainly lovely.
When a cowboy writes a song, all he can hope for - my guess is - at the very least to feel a whiporwhill wind as it scoops up a few tumbleweeds, or maybe, at best, a cowgirl to understand.
It has got some cool tricks, the train trill, and the dynamic and unpredictable structure, all in a package that would be fine to listen to all of the time, not like a cheesy wannabe western. This song is thievish in its ability to gain your heart. And perfect in its admission of self inflicted lore. May the tune be played more.
xo
