The young musician, still in his early 20s, writes about addiction, love and heartache with a photographer’s eye for detail. His musical tales are nuanced and tragic, vivid and hopeful.
Morrow knows the subject matter intimately; he’s been drinking since his early teens, and a few years ago his addictions almost killed him. And on the album’s best songs, “December” and “War,” Morrow nurses the pain of those terrible days as he creeps through his lyrics with a voice that’s as craggy as a bottle of cheap whiskey.
Listen carefully, though, and you’ll hear a man who’s moving beyond the dark days, a singer whose voice soars when you least expect it … the kind of character Steinbeck built his best novels around.