Normally, this is the place where I would tell you how Dawes songs are deconstructions of what specifically makes men tick and burn out. They are examples of people doing their best to overcome their limitations and maximize what they have going for them, even if none of it's visible. They've been filling themselves with what they think will make them better, more resilient and able to get to some kind of modest promised land, where there's a warm bed, a chicken in every pot, a light fog burning out of the hills, a bookshelf overflowing with good literature, tears and laughter always ready, sunshine flowing and general contentment. We all know that it's hard to come by. We can wish, hope and pray, but there are always pitfalls. Love crumbles and knees weaken and we don't go anywhere. We remain close to it. We stay scared and cautious. We let ourselves be hopeful when it makes sense, when the ties loosen and a light shines.
Today, however, we are celebrating what is absolutely one of the great American rock and roll bands. They have been great friends of ours, since long before they played us just-mixed songs from the album that was to be "North Hills," in a gravel driveway in Austin, Texas, during SXSW, a year after we met them as Simon Dawes. We dragged them out to the frigid cornfields and hills, during the coldest first week in October the Midwest has ever seen, chucking pumpkins, chasing animals and playing in barns on our second Barnstormer tour. We value their support and friendship as much, if not more than we love their music. We are honored to present this beautiful and cozy fourth session -- recorded in London last year -- as the 4,000th session in Daytrotter history.