It's always a pleasure to find an album so visceral that it immediately draws images to mind. With this album it's all about the southern states of America - cowboys, swamps, dark dive bars with untuned pianos, snakes, dust, voodoo, maybe the occasional vampire a la True Blood.
It's all tremendous fun wrapped in a bit of melancholy. Life's tough, but as long as you can get a whiskey, it'll be alright. Originally a Christchurch resident, but now something of a wandering minstrel, Davidson has played around the world, and brought his resulting tales of humanity to bear on the Bad Luck Man. His weary, gravelly, crooning may take a listen or two to get used to, but it's addictive, and the instrumentation and arrangements are pitch perfect in their wisdom and sense of humour.