These days, anyone who can string a song together can get away with calling themselves a singer-songwriter, and plenty do.
Meanwhile, the likes of Alabamian Auguste Arthur Bondy – whose When the Devil's Loose was one of my favourite records of 2009 – go largely unnoticed. Grrrr. Believers is made of a darker, spookier Americana than its predecessor: full of small-g gothic, anti-Chris Isaak-ish songs that submerge you deeper and deeper in their dark charms.
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