Someone's going to accuse Natural Child of going soft and they'll be wholly wrong. Across their previous 3 LPs, the Nashville trio carved out a little niche with a whole lot of machismo, a healthy dose of riff-rock and a firm rooting in country. Their shirts have beer stains. The bottoms of their lighters are colored black with ash. Their trail of women and buddies is long, often listed and equally tender and flippant. This is the band whose version of maturity was yelling, "want to tell you . . .
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