Music
Greg Freeman
Very well-read cowboy swings as if he has just seen God
It's easy to imagine Greg Freeman as a muppet – that's how wobbly he moves through his own songs. As 'Curtain' swings towards the seven-minute mark, it sounds as if Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem have joined the band. But behind the slacker-like nonchalance of the alt-country musician from the far north of Vermont lies a literary world. Freeman's lyrics are like neo-gothic novels, mostly in rock-'n-roll form, but sometimes also as tortured, Springsteen-esque ballads. While he groans and crows about striking firefighters and the year 1816, when a volcanic eruption caused a 'year without a summer', we keep stubbornly headbanging.
