When you strip down something that’s already naked, you get to bones, blood, and muscle. Bradley Williams’s one man band does just that. Absent are the gizmos of the future, the idle distractions of the present. Present is Alabama dirt, clothing with holes, hearts that seek mending, a world that never makes complete sense, and brains that never feel quite right. It’s the stuff of Leadbelly and early Bob Log III—where simplicity shouldn’t be mistaken for ease and a bare soul of easy-to-understand poetics is the driving force. Great stuff.