Philly-based folk guitarist Daniel Bachman delivers another recording of breathtaking solo acoustic beauty. His dense, active meanderings in open tunings recall the melodic sensibilities of Jack Rose, Sandy Bull, and yes, the ubiquitous John Fahey. Fans of contemporaries Steve Gunn and Sir Richard Bishop will also adore this. Bachman’s soulful, genuine style evokes the autumn beauty of Appalachia perfectly—and it should, as it was recorded in the forests of Rappahanock County, VA, the area from which Bachman originally hails. I can’t get enough of his guitar's rich dreadnought tone—play this now and feel its warmth seep into your soul. Bachman explained the title of this album in an interview: “It’s the name of a drink people made in the mid-1800s out of leather and turpentine and stuff and it fucked them up. They drank it and they loved it.”

1. (6:26) About a minute of nearly inaudible drone, followed by a lovely fingerpicking trance.
2. (5:02) Looping ostinatos in the bass strings with swirling, shimmering harmonies in the higher strings. Rapidfire steel string bluegrass bliss.
3. (5:09)* Melancholy sweeping chords of astounding melodic depth. A musical portrait of a reddish-brown Appalachian mountainside rendered with a rich tonal palette.
4. (4:07) Sweet happy melody winding its way around in the upper strings, while a steady bouncing thumbpicking bassline keeps things in check.
5. (5:36) Jolly old-timey folk medley. Totally sounds like some hillbilly picking a banjo tune on a guitar, with a dexterity that recalls masters like Doc Watson or Lester Flatt.
6. (11:06)* Longwinded raga meditation
7. (5:00) Light, airy, slow ballad. Soft lullaby. Getting sleeeeeeepy yet?