A Chord to Warm Your Bones
Soulful, honest. A voice with the ability to wrap around you like a warm blanket. That's the kind of sincerity that comes across in the new Chris Davies album. I saw the beautiful, curly-haired boy with the thick-rimmed glasses at Grog and Tankard (above Georgetown) two nights ago. Outside, bright lights and bone-chilling wind. Inside, dark and warm, inviting. A busy, golden energy permeated the air. Solid hardwood floors, exposed brick walls, fully occupied green felt pool tables to the side of the stage, an old bar in back (with plenty of soda for teetotlers), and an area (small, but big enough for folks to mingle) set aside to pay homage to performers. A perfect venue to showcase an up-and-comer.
There was actually quite a big crowd there that night. Surprising for an artist yet to be signed. Still, this is Chris Davies. He's really good. He's got that special magic. The kind that could make him really big one day. A soothing, deep voice. Sort of like a Jack Johnson, but weightier. The rythmic humming seeps into your bones, replacing the chill. Davies delivered with warmth, an unabashed grin, and sympathy in heartfelt lyrics on love and life experience. The crowd gathered, we listened, we'd like to say we knew him when.
There was actually quite a big crowd there that night. Surprising for an artist yet to be signed. Still, this is Chris Davies. He's really good. He's got that special magic. The kind that could make him really big one day. A soothing, deep voice. Sort of like a Jack Johnson, but weightier. The rythmic humming seeps into your bones, replacing the chill. Davies delivered with warmth, an unabashed grin, and sympathy in heartfelt lyrics on love and life experience. The crowd gathered, we listened, we'd like to say we knew him when.
Comments