New York’s Zen Anton promises on his bandcamp that you’ll find no “whiny white boys playing open c chords” on his record. Instead what’s present is spare and stark acoustic blues yarling, featuring some adept pretty jazz chords and a sincere vocal sound resembling a male Tracy Chapman, a more soulful Anthony Kiedis or a butcher Dave Matthews. With the immediate sound of a bedroom record, this song starts as a slinky, slow minor key ballad, with lyrics possibly about Anton’s father, to whom he bears “resemblance” and in the middle picks up and gets actually funky with some choppy chords while the vocal nearly cracks before slowing back to it’s original tempo for it’s conclusion.
By Anonymous
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