The ultimate hangout record. Aside from Clark’s elegantly sorrowful title track there’s not much songwriting, really not much songs so much as a sustained jangling hootenanny (he’d later revive “Kansas City Southern” with a harder rock edge on a solo album, but here it pleasantly blends with the Everly Brothers and gospel standards). The sharing of the spotlight means that the greatest asset on hand, Clark’s soulful croon, goes underused, but low-key ambling seems to be the nature of the project here, so save that for later, I suppose. A closing Beatles cover makes no sense, but that’s part of the modest charm.
