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Artist Ben Weaver

As a published poet and cook at a farm-to-table restaurant in Minneapolis, it’s no wonder Ben Weaver’s made an exceedingly literary record about, basically, cooking: Mirepoix And Smoke, just out on Bloodshot Records. The record’s hauntingly lonely banjo, minimal vocals, and sparse production reek of Tom Waits, José González, or even The Band at points, though Weaver’s more of an urban woodsman than all of those guys—bearded, flannel-sporting, and more than happy to spend most of his time alone somewhere in the North woods curled up with a book. There’s some whispery female accompaniment on tracks like “Grass Doe” and “East Jefferson,” but for the most part, this record is as cold and empty as a Minnesota prairie in January, but as icily charming too. 

Updated 11/03/2010

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