MATT DRISCOLL: REVIEWS SONGS OF LOVE, DEATH, AND TRAINS >>>

This review is late.

It’s supposed to go something like this: Thursday rolls around. High off of the excitement of putting yet another kick ass issue of the Weekly Volcano on the street, I arrive at the office, dig â€" with glee - through my promotional pile of free CDs sent by bands near and far, and then pound out 600 words in the form of a CD review for all to read on the Volcano’s website.

Here’s how it’s been going lately: Thursday rolls around. Mentally drained and exhausted from putting yet another kick ass issue of the Weekly Volcano on the street, I arrive at the office, fumble â€" with trepidation â€" through my promotional pile of free CDs sent by bands near and far, and then â€" after getting caught up doing about a zillion other things throughout the day â€" finally tie myself down in front of the computer and pound out 600 words in the form of a CD review for all to read on the Volcano’s website.

This week, though, was as bad as it’s been. Not only is this CD review a little late â€" it’s a day and a half late. These reviews are supposed to hit the website on Thursdays. By my count it’s now Friday night, around 5:45 p.m., and I’m just now getting to it.

But enough about poor little me.

This week’s lucky CD from my pile is www.myspace.com/davidbavas ">David Bavas’s Songs of Love, Death, and Trains. While it’s an album that’s been out for almost a year, Bavas was kind enough to contact me through Myspace not long ago and offer to send it my way. I figured I’d reciprocate the kindness. There’s at least a decent chance many of you out there in Volcano Land haven’t heard of Bavas yet (though I do believe he recently played in town), and I figured that was as good a reason as any to give Songs of Love, Death, and Trains a spin.

Today was gray. The office was quiet and the mood was sleepy. The entire pace of life seemed slowed, which made for a perfect backdrop to Bavas’s Songs of Love, Death, and Trains. 

While it’s not quite wrist-slitting, Songs of Love, Death, and Trains is definitely a sad record. Made up of creeping, pitter-pat indie-alt country numbers that rarely speed past a waltzing pace, Songs of Love is porch sitting music, seemingly made for remorseful recollections of past pain.

As is evident from the very beginning, and especially on the disc’s best track, “Cigarettes and Bourbon,” the subject matter isn’t the only thing that’s dark on this album. Bavas’s voice is equally as shadowy â€" lying in the reaches of these songs - and his humble, Appalachian born demeanor adds an engaging edge that takes some of the sting out of the heartbreak he sings of.

Bavas’s songs may all be similarly paced, and â€" for the most part â€" similarly mired in sorrow, and they might all be built on Bavas’s unassuming voice, the no-hurry beat of country drums and the slow, steady strum of an acoustic guitar, but www.myspace.com/travishartnett ">Travis Hartnett does add some electric guitar swagger to the mix. It’s the rarest of musical tag-teams, as both artists seem to lift each other to a new level. Without Hartnett, Bavas’s music would be noteworthy. With Hartnett, Bavas â€" and his CD â€" are the full package.

Songs of Love, Death, and Trains captures a day like today perfectly. It may have been out since last year, but it’s definitely worth your attention right now.