Greg MacPherson’s music punches its fist to the sky in joy and anger while the other flips through a people’s history of labour and love. Does it sometimes veer too close to the edge of an overly exposed emotional gesture? Perhaps, but that’s part of the thrill of the stance, the willingness to risk telling an honest story that you grew up with or around. And sometimes you let it spill a little awkwardly like a first date but then at least it’s on the floor in front of us all.

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