“This is no redemption song,” Rawiri begins, “This is no song from a hippy that smokes bongs, this is just me and my guitar, singing to yourself about my world.” Never in my life would I have sought to defend the bong-smoking hippy, but at least the dread-locked troubadours of the roots folk scene aren’t so… I don’t know… literal.
Recommended
Aldous Harding finds enchantment in the everyday on Train On The Island
The Jungle Giants process heartbreak with hope on Experiencing Feelings Of Joy
Eat The Beat is turning a heritage CBD building into Melbourne's next great superclub
Swedish stadium rockers, indie day festivals and hip hop madness: This is May at Stay Gold
The most dangerous ukulele band on the planet is coming to a city near you