Volcano. Appropriate title that. For like the mysterious natural disaster, the phenomenon that seethes and strains then unpredictably explodes in a truly awesome display, the enigmatic Winterboy's debut pulses with over-syllabled lyrics, hyper-extended metaphors, and lush instrumentation and erupts with unforeseeable musical brilliance. From devotionals to songs of war and death, Winterboy runs the subject-matter gambit, bringing his unique view and talents to each. Though there may be no actual relation between Jerry Garcia, Jerry Falwell, Gerry Brown, and Czechoslovakia, Winterboy's clever songcraft, clean and fervent guitar work, and earnest vocalization almost convince. If a listener should ask where this local folk troubadour comes up with such ideas, Winterboy kindly provides the answer: "I sit in the window at three in the morning and write these lyrics as the moon shines on the streets below." Perhaps a bit more sleep might help Winterboy reign in his occasionally excessive lyrics, but though these late-night creative bursts may not always reveal underlying grandeur, his debut effort does exhibit moments of volcanic brilliance.
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