This came out in 2000 — or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
Storm clouds were gathering on the horizon when the stranger rode into town that day.
We shoulda known he was different by his outfit: An old serape and sombrero, two six guns — and a beat-up Telecaster. He pushed through the swinging doors of the saloon, ordered two fingers of red-eye, lit a cheroot and asked, “You know where a guy can find a jam session in this one-horse town?” Fingers the piano man asked, “What can ya play on that thing?” “Anything you can,” the stranger shot back. “Space-dust blues, fuzzy noise-rock, twangy cocktail-surf, fleet-fingered flamenco, you name it — hell, I can pick a version of Gershwin’s Summertime that’ll fry your brain.” With that, he plugged into an old Fender Twin, cranked up the reverb and poured out guitar licks with the high lonesome space of the wide prairie. Somewhere off in the distance, lightning sizzled and I could swear I heard an old organ moaning low. Things were never gonna be the same again …
