California, United States
One day Jeff Laine became Jeff Laine. Iím not talking about his birthday, or the day he got bar mtizvahíd or communioned, or when he lost his cherry or got his driverís license. I came to know Jeff long after these events, when he was an interesting musician and a friend about town.. But he wasnít yet Jeff Laine. Some years passed. Weíd have drinks. Share a laugh. And then Ö the thing happened. His voice centered, rasped in a subtle new way. It reached right down and grabbed. It became as original as a fingerprint, and there wasnít a contrived moment in his music. Mind you, he was always an interesting player, but now he was Jeff Laine. If you require a comparison, and I donít blame you if you do, Iíd say heís the musical descendant of Johnny Cash, but this isnít Johnny Cash music. If you need more description, I add that his music has chunks of blues, rockín roll, folk, and the constant presence of a true balladeer. I could gild the lily and mention there are stories, mysteries, images, back breaking rhythms, and more in his new album. I wish that everyone everywhere find their true expression.
Jeff Laine has found his.