Metallica's Master of Puppets on a half-day Wednesday in September 1987; Masters of Reality's The Blue Garden on a Friday night in February 1989; Red House Painters' Down Colorful Hill on a rush hour train in the summer of 1993 – we all have special moments when those touchstone records came into our lives. On a wet evening in May Mississippi-born Murry's debut joined the list and, like the rest, the years ahead will be the better because of it.
This is both a classic example of how our worst enemies are ourselves and a reminder that you can climb back out of the hole you've dug, Murry recounting addiction, the filling of voids, the hustles of false dawns and the ghosts we all live with like a master storyteller who's been around a lot longer than 34 years. One ragged 'glory' follows another, with Murry's rough-and-ready guitar playing the perfect foil for the sadness of his Southern drawl. And if you find a better song this year than his piano-driven OD odyssey Little Coloured Balloons, it will more than likely be somewhere on this album too. Like the man himself sings: "It all comes pouring out in these startling melodies."
Definitely the kind of beauty that is not natural in age like this.