“Here comes the new release from the swamp brothers of Bristol, True Strays about to blow your doors clean off, c’mon, hit it!”
A whisky soaked beauty of human being. Our first encounter with this soul came late one smokey night, as many an encounter does, but not all hold our dwindling attention span as this man did. Through the haze, under an infiltration of painted light appeared a bearded road worn troubadour, held together by a fedora as his crown and a six string danelectro as his faithful. Offering up a rendition of The Doors’ Roadhouse Blues, a voice so raspy and honest no poor soul gathered in his presence had any option but to believe. This righteous maverick is to be known as James Weston
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