I first saw Chuck Mead play in Bakersfield, CA at Buck Owens' Crystal Palace, back in 1996. I loved that debut BR5-49 album, and was even more dazzled watching them perform in my hometown, during the inaugural year of the Palace. Chuck continues to impress me and is keeping the Bakersfield honky-tonk sound alive. The further we get away from that era, it seems like the fewer musicians there are embracing that rich, classic feel. Of course, Chuck lunges towards it with open arms, and a song on his sleeve. To me, his Journeyman's Wager album is like a sonic ride through my youth, but ever so relevant to today. See if you can picture yourself sitting around a campfire, with a jet-black sky full of bright stars, the night breeze floating through the pines, and Chuck with just his lone guitar singing Up On Edge Hill. Yup, you can see for miles and miles.
