My Old Friend, Greg.
Oh man. This homie holds a real special spot in my cold heart. If it weren’t for his latest album The Weatherman, my travels wouldn’t have been comfortable. I had to sleep in the train station in Zagreb one night, and despite the (other) hobos constantly yelling at each other, I put in my buds, put on the Greg and slept like a baby. A baby I say.
This dairy farmer is also playing Firefly, though I’m not sure what he’d be like in a large venue. I’d like to see him play in front of my fire place. That would be a dream, yes.
It’s like whiskey in a mason jar on a rainy day in front of that same fireplace. Comfy tunes.