Sam Morrow's take on Americana mines the rich depths of the lineage of Southern Rock and renegade Country with his meaty voice front and center. Morrow's delivery is powerful and gritty - the kind of voice that could sing the phonebook and make it sound like an anthem. Stylistically, there are shades of Cash, Waylon and Merle on both his albums to date, and Morrow's early struggles with substance abuse have given him a hard-won perspective on the demons that haunt frail and fallible human souls that he shares with his idols. But along with shades of the Mount Rushmore faces of roots rock, Morrow also includes influences and colors that show his age; he's still young and he grew up in a mashup world without record store bins to keep artists in a stylistic boxes. He's not afraid to throw a Radiohead cover up on YouTube. Morrow's vocal command reflects hints of a sort of backwoods Jeff Buckley, and his instrumentation and arrangements have a groove that is definitely more Memphis than Nashville or Austin. There is a bit of bounce and boogie in the drums - and pulsing, groovy Hammond B3 lines provide a counterpoint to Morrow's passionate ruminations. The masters of the trade approach their songs with a fearlessness to tell the stark truth about whatever story they're telling, and Morrow shares this honest, no-BS approach. Many ears are no doubt eagerly awaiting his forthcoming new album.

Sam Morrow's take on Americana mines the rich depths of the lineage of Southern Rock and renegade Country with his meaty voice front and center. Morrow's delivery is powerful and gritty - the kind of voice that could sing the phonebook and make it sound like an anthem. Stylistically, there are shades of Cash, Waylon and Merle on both his albums to date, and Morrow's early struggles with substance abuse have given him a hard-won perspective on the demons that haunt frail and fallible human souls that he shares with his idols. But along with shades of the Mount Rushmore faces of roots rock, Morrow also includes influences and colors that show his age; he's still young and he grew up in a mashup world without record store bins to keep artists in a stylistic boxes. He's not afraid to throw a Radiohead cover up on YouTube. Morrow's vocal command reflects hints of a sort of backwoods Jeff Buckley, and his instrumentation and arrangements have a groove that is definitely more Memphis than Nashville or Austin. There is a bit of bounce and boogie in the drums - and pulsing, groovy Hammond B3 lines provide a counterpoint to Morrow's passionate ruminations. The masters of the trade approach their songs with a fearlessness to tell the stark truth about whatever story they're telling, and Morrow shares this honest, no-BS approach. Many ears are no doubt eagerly awaiting his forthcoming new album.

Eric Kufs got his start in a New York indie-folk trio called Common Rotation. He and his bandmates - Adam Busch and Jordan Katz - were childhood friends who had come of age together, started a band, forged an original sound and established themselves with relentless tours and several albums. Before long, their hard work had paid off and they'd collaborated with the likes of They Might Be Giants, Indigo Girls and Dan Bern. When Busch's acting career picked up speed in California, the trio decided to uproot the entire ensemble and Kufs and Katz relocated to Los Angeles with Busch. The saturated scene in LA prompted Kufs to find new ways to make a living at music. Sometimes, necessity is the mother of reinvention. Kufs started playing hours-long busking gigs on Santa Monica's highly trafficked 3rd Street Promenade shopping and dining district. The gigs were not theater shows where a captive audience sat and listened politely in their seats, but the transient nature of the steady stream of passersby provided Kufs with an opportunity disguised as a challenge. Kufs had always been prolific - he already had nearly a thousand original songs in his repertoire - and he now complemented his sizable catalog of originals with reimagined cover songs, providing yet another opportunity to expand on his considerable talent as a singer, guitarist and songwriter. The extended sets allowed him time to experiment; he could essentially profile the shoppers and revelers passing by and cater his song selection to garner the most attention. After all, attention meant tips and tips is income. It's an important lesson to learn that only foolhardy performers neglect to read their audiences. Years on in California, Kufs is still at it, making a living in music with his unique blend of folk and blue-eyed soul. With Common Rotation currently on hiatus, Kufs has established himself as a solo performer in his own right with a new EP called Sense and Nonsense in Psychology, Part One and a steady performance calendar.

Eric Kufs got his start in a New York indie-folk trio called Common Rotation. He and his bandmates - Adam Busch and Jordan Katz - were childhood friends who had come of age together, started a band, forged an original sound and established themselves with relentless tours and several albums. Before long, their hard work had paid off and they'd collaborated with the likes of They Might Be Giants, Indigo Girls and Dan Bern. When Busch's acting career picked up speed in California, the trio decided to uproot the entire ensemble and Kufs and Katz relocated to Los Angeles with Busch. The saturated scene in LA prompted Kufs to find new ways to make a living at music. Sometimes, necessity is the mother of reinvention. Kufs started playing hours-long busking gigs on Santa Monica's highly trafficked 3rd Street Promenade shopping and dining district. The gigs were not theater shows where a captive audience sat and listened politely in their seats, but the transient nature of the steady stream of passersby provided Kufs with an opportunity disguised as a challenge. Kufs had always been prolific - he already had nearly a thousand original songs in his repertoire - and he now complemented his sizable catalog of originals with reimagined cover songs, providing yet another opportunity to expand on his considerable talent as a singer, guitarist and songwriter. The extended sets allowed him time to experiment; he could essentially profile the shoppers and revelers passing by and cater his song selection to garner the most attention. After all, attention meant tips and tips is income. It's an important lesson to learn that only foolhardy performers neglect to read their audiences. Years on in California, Kufs is still at it, making a living in music with his unique blend of folk and blue-eyed soul. With Common Rotation currently on hiatus, Kufs has established himself as a solo performer in his own right with a new EP called Sense and Nonsense in Psychology, Part One and a steady performance calendar.

Chicago's Dorian Taj has indie rock bonafides for which a lot of artists would trade their black Converse hi-tops; he got his start in a hardcore punk band, has worked with Bob Mould, released records on Steve Albini's imprint over the course of his several-album career and he knows his way around an Econoline, but he's more than just a pretty face grimacing at a low-slung guitar. Taj also has a way with a song, and he serves up just the right amount of crafty writing to elevate his music above the noisy fray. His vocals are delivered in a Dylan-meets-Westerberg sneer and he has always made the smart play by surrounding himself with solid players. He's that rare artist that hits all the right career notes seemingly without trying. And all of this would be moot without witnessing the dervish of energy that is a Dorian Taj show. Bands of all styles the world over could learn a thing or two from the manner in which Taj can captivate an audience.

Chicago's Dorian Taj has indie rock bonafides for which a lot of artists would trade their black Converse hi-tops; he got his start in a hardcore punk band, has worked with Bob Mould, released records on Steve Albini's imprint over the course of his several-album career and he knows his way around an Econoline, but he's more than just a pretty face grimacing at a low-slung guitar. Taj also has a way with a song, and he serves up just the right amount of crafty writing to elevate his music above the noisy fray. His vocals are delivered in a Dylan-meets-Westerberg sneer and he has always made the smart play by surrounding himself with solid players. He's that rare artist that hits all the right career notes seemingly without trying. And all of this would be moot without witnessing the dervish of energy that is a Dorian Taj show. Bands of all styles the world over could learn a thing or two from the manner in which Taj can captivate an audience.

There really isn't such a thing as precociousness in the music business. One only needs to consider that the Beatles averaged about twenty-two and a half years of age and were already seasoned pros in England when they played their American debut on Ed Sullivan in 1964. Enter California's Matt Jaffe. Jaffe is young - on the cusp of twenty-two - but he's talented, motivated and he's more than willing to put in the work necessary to make a name for himself. Jaffe started on violin at age five and had picked up the guitar and started to write his own songs by the time he was ten. A scant few years later, before he was finished with high school, Jaffe's repertoire featured no fewer than fifty of his own compositions and he'd already started amassing songwriting and performing awards in his Bay Area home. After graduation, Jaffe flipped coasts and started college at Yale University - but soon found that his true calling lay in music, so he dropped out after three semesters and applied his usual unstoppable focus and drive to a full-time music career. Jaffe's dedication has begun to pay off, with an EP, a full-length record and national tours already on his resume - along with a regular band he calls The Distractions. And it all makes sense when people see the confident manner in which Jaffe and his band burn up a stage. The truest fans are earned, and Matt Jaffe and The Distractions' high-energy rock shows bear shades of other acts that are revered both for their smarts and their performance savvy; The Replacements, Elvis Costello and The Clash come to mind. So clap or get out of the way, because there is no stopping Matt Jaffe.

There really isn't such a thing as precociousness in the music business. One only needs to consider that the Beatles averaged about twenty-two and a half years of age and were already seasoned pros in England when they played their American debut on Ed Sullivan in 1964. Enter California's Matt Jaffe. Jaffe is young - on the cusp of twenty-two - but he's talented, motivated and he's more than willing to put in the work necessary to make a name for himself. Jaffe started on violin at age five and had picked up the guitar and started to write his own songs by the time he was ten. A scant few years later, before he was finished with high school, Jaffe's repertoire featured no fewer than fifty of his own compositions and he'd already started amassing songwriting and performing awards in his Bay Area home. After graduation, Jaffe flipped coasts and started college at Yale University - but soon found that his true calling lay in music, so he dropped out after three semesters and applied his usual unstoppable focus and drive to a full-time music career. Jaffe's dedication has begun to pay off, with an EP, a full-length record and national tours already on his resume - along with a regular band he calls The Distractions. And it all makes sense when people see the confident manner in which Jaffe and his band burn up a stage. The truest fans are earned, and Matt Jaffe and The Distractions' high-energy rock shows bear shades of other acts that are revered both for their smarts and their performance savvy; The Replacements, Elvis Costello and The Clash come to mind. So clap or get out of the way, because there is no stopping Matt Jaffe.

Songwriter Matt Blake was riding on a tour bus, cruising through the lonely interstate time in the middle of the night somewhere on America's east coast. The bus was carrying Lucinda Williams and her band and crew, and that night's post-show drive time revelry involved passing a bottle, sharing laughs and stories and swapping songs. The setting isn't unusual for Blake, as his day job is working as a member of Williams' touring entourage, but when the guitar made its way around to Blake, he faced the chilling proposition of playing one of his original songs for a captive audience that happened to contain one of the most revered living songwriters of the modern age. Fortunately, Blake is no slouch at penning a tune, and when he finished playing and went to pass the guitar on, Williams asked for another, and then another. Impressed by what she heard, Williams suggested that Blake step from backstage to center stage and open some upcoming shows, unequivocally validating the adage that luck favors the prepared. Blake now splits his time between his day job as a tour manager and his own burgeoning career as a performing artist. His debut record, All the Dirt In Town, smartly exhibits his astute observations of life and love with wry Dylan-esque lyrics delivered in a reedy voice that bears echoes of Neil Young's tenor. He's currently working on follow-up, and if it's half as good as his first, it will already be several times better than most artists are capable of producing. With mentors like his, odds are that it will be far better still.