'I lost my mind like a brick in the weeds'
Wild Pink are a band from the districts of Brooklyn and Queens. I suspect they wish were The Band. They're not really. Who could be. But they have a gently rolling and quietly majestic sound which talks about the wear and tear of life and how it wizens us but how we get back up and return to the office or the bar or the road.
Still Coming Down is their sixth album. But it sounds like their sixteenth. They sing of Sirhan Sirhan shooting Robert Kennedy in a hotel kitchen. Jack Ruby killing a patsy. They tell of the lies we're told and keep on being told and will surely always be told and how we grit our teeth and wake and ride to each day determined to make the best of it.
This is a well worn furrow but it needs to be ploughed and Wild Pink are more than up to the task. Nine songs without a chorus to speak of but a dogged, earnest engaging spirit. Thick with energy, memory, nostalgia and widescreen but somehow modest Americana 'melodrama,
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