Butcher the Bar

First, my apologies for the unplanned hiatus from 3hive. It’s been a month since my last post, though I swear it doesn’t feel like it. To break the silence I’m taking it back to the old school—or is it the new school?—folk genre. Don’t know if it’s Joe’s long-awaited John Prine post or the near perfect weather here in Southeast Michigan (mid 70s and clear blue skies, ftw) but my ears seem to have an insatiable appetite for what Joel Nicholson, aka Butcher the Bar, cooked up in his bedroom studio in Manchester, England. His songs are immediately gratifying, they waste no time explaining themselves. Bare, beautiful guitar work and hushed lyrics of human relationship, of coming and going. As with all good stories, it’s what’s not said (or sung or played) that matters most. This is a truth that most 22-year-old musicians don’t learn until some time after their debut album, which is what makes Butcher the Bar’s Sleep at Your Own Speed that much more impressive.