Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Most Popular

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Dallas's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Dallas Observer

National Features >

  • Village Voice

    The Great Walls of Chinatown

    With the exception of the electric rice cookers, this Bowery tenement could have come straight from the Nineteenth Century.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    Getting Off

    DUI attorney Tyler Flood wins 80 percent of his trials--even if his clients were 100 percent drunk.

    By Mike Giglio

  • Miami New Times

    Park or Die Tryin'

    From the homeless parking mafia to the meter fairy, finding a spot in Miami has taken a turn toward the surreal.

    By Gus Garcia-Roberts

  • City Pages

    The Baddest Men on the Planet

    Straight from the Sam's Club tire shop, Brett Rogers prepares to meet Fedor Emelianenko in mortal combat.

    By Bradley Campbell

Tom Freund

Saturday, November 11, at Bend Studio

Share

  • rss

By Darryl Smyers

Published on November 08, 2006 at 2:04pm

If there is such a genre as ambient Americana, then Tom Freund is its standard bearer. First gaining attention as a touring member of pioneering roots rockers the Silos, Freund has parlayed a decade-long friendship with Ben Harper into a series of atmospherically rustic releases that culminated in 2004's Copper Moon, a sparkling collection of folk and pop that defies easy categorization. Intense and charismatically brooding, Freund's literate narratives provide a link between Nick Drake and Jeff Tweedy, detailed explorations of the ins and outs of affection that never descend into formula. Hailed by Graham Parker as a songwriter on par with Lucinda Williams, Freund appears to be at the precipice of larger recognition. Perhaps a bit too blue-collar for those who think indie rock needs to be abrasive, songs such as "Comfortable in Your Arms" and "Married to Laughter" serve as sanctuaries of repose in the hectic mass of shouters and scene-chasers.