Jason Cain

Eryc Eyl November 27, 2008 4:00AM

[
          {
            "name": "Related Stories / Support Us Combo",
            "component": "12017627",
            "insertPoint": "4",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "6"
          },
          {
            "name": "Air - Billboard - Inline Content",
            "component": "12017623",
            "insertPoint": "2/3",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "7"
          },
          
          {
            "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
            "component": "12017624",
            "insertPoint": "12",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
          },{
            "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
            "component": "12017624",
            "insertPoint": "4th",
            "startingPoint": "16",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
          }
          
            ,{
              "name": "RevContent - In Article",
              "component": "13027957",
              "insertPoint": "3/5",
              "requiredCountToDisplay": "5"
            }
          
        ]

You probably know Jason Cain as the emotive auteur who stands — or, lately, sits — in front of Astrophagus. On his first solo CD, the singer-songwriter worked with Brian Gerhard at Helmet Room Studios to strip four thematically related songs down to their core of Cain's minimalist strumming and pain-drenched lyrics. The austere settings focus the listener on the tarnished beauty of the singer's voice and the simple sadness of his words. Defeated by hopelessness and helplessness, the narrators of Cain's songs have moved beyond sorrow and anger to resignation and remorse. Each of Endless Rolling Sea's four songs tackles the topic of lost love with an honesty and regret that teeters on the brink of self-pity but settles instead for quiet retreat and reflection.

Jason Cain

This Week's Issue