Kevin Morby

This definitely feels like a grown up album.  

It's a scotch album....2 fingers and neat.

It's a night time album.
 
I can't imagine you'd want to see Kevin Morby perform at a venue with screaming girls. You'd be more apt to seeing him by yourself at a smokey lounge. You drink that neat scotch at a little round table in a red velvet chair who's stains are hidden by the dim glow of the lights, but every so often you run your hand across a crusty spot and get a little growdy'd out. 

....that stain is probably blood because in the back of your mind you know that the mob uses this joint after dark to strong arm those who are late paying back their gambling debts. 

This is exactly where Morby's album Singing Saw transports you. It's a little dark and a little ominous. It's almost as if he wrote these songs to be used in the next season of Fargo. Yet, the short and subtle additions of harmonies, strings, horns and pianos sound so beautiful and pleasant. 

And how this asshole manages to sound like Jim James, Bob Dylan, Josh Ritter and Jose Gonzalez all at the same time had me doing double and triple takes while spitting out my orange juice at everybody who is in 5 feet of me.