It sounded like a perfectly dark, gruesome way to spend the Friday before Halloween, so my wife and I headed to The Starry Plough in Bekeley. (Spending an evening listening to musicians sing about people killing each other was actually her idea, which is just one more reason that I love her.)
Once again putting his talent for sordid storytelling and his knowledgeable Northern Alabama roots to good use, Patterson Hood—still the core of the Athens, Georgia, band’s considerable songwriting muscle—finally indulged in an exploration of a hometown crime that has fascinated him for decades.