The Belle Jar- Union Station
Mar 5, 2014
The White Buffalo commands the full attention of whatever room he’s occupying at that very moment. On stage, the over-six-feet-tall grizzly man grips his guitar with force, belting out his wooded lyrics like the poet laureate of the forest. He spouts folktales of lost love like a frontier gunman on the run from his charred past. But The White Buffalo’s most charming quality is his humanity—each song is a personal reflection, especially the spiteful ode to whiskey on “John Jameson” and the self-explanatory “Love Song #2.”
With his long brown mane, fuzzy beard and shirts that can only have been bought from big-and-tall stores, The White Buffalo is a man’s man: a drinking, fighting, soulful man who ain’t afraid to tell you everything, no matter what you might say about it. “I’m sloshed and seein’ stars,” opens his whiskey croon, but you listen deeper and more personally to hear him finish the story. And that’s the whole heart of The White Buffalo—his stories.
Without ‘em, would this large American bard have been able to put out records and tour relentlessly to support them over the past five years? Nope, didn’t think so. Walt Whitman wrote about a unified America, one that spans oceans and mountains with a strong sense of brotherhood. While The White Buffalo might seem like a cold drunkard who’d rather fight his fellow man than embrace him, his story is all of ours, and it’s all-American.
Listen to "Love Song #2":