With an ear for American primitive songcraft, a vocal delivery reminiscent of Tom Waits and a childhood split between Detroit and Alabama, Tim Higgins is the kind of artist music journalists are drawn to. Phrases like “Southern Gothic poetry,” “dark cabaret” and “Rust Belt” burn brightly from within his press kit—springing from the page like road flares on a pitch black country road. One imagines his dusty, down-and-out acoustic ballads would pair perfectly with such a drive. Better still are those songs that have been fleshed-out with warm horns, plaintive fiddle and barrel-aged, reverberant slide guitar lines.
Tim Higgins
Sat, 8pm, Free
Camino Brewing Company, San Jose
