Adam Mcgrath has one of those voices that sums up the struggles of the everyman in one line. Gentle, husky, weary, righteous.
McGrath leads his Christchurch-based, Lyttelton-raised string band in 15 tracks wrung with whiskey and history, and somehow offering a Kiwi country sound that seems like it's been developed over decade, when really it's only been brewed up in recent times.
That may well be because this is The Eastern's fourth album in six years. They've honed their sound through more gigs than can be counted, through earthquakes, hardship, and sharing stages with fellow troubadours like Steve Earle and Old Crow Medicine Show.
What makes The Eastern such a national treasure though, is their songwriting. Their bagpipes, banjos, fiddles, guitars, drums, bass, and horns, converse in a revelling, fleet-footed, yet soulful manner, and their stories wind through, creating vivid pictures.
Whether they're imaginative local folk lore, ancestral tales or a rumination on depression, their bare and often poignant approach leaves you with a rich definition of southern New Zealand life.
