Jackson Browne once described
his longtime pal Zevon as “the
King of Song Noir”; a playful
soubriquet, perhaps, but one
borne out by the dark subtlety of
these hitherto unheard demos.
Zevon, or rather the characters
that populated his music, skulked
in the shadows of the modern
American underbelly, a twilight
world where hope …
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