Erik Koskinen’s a lights-out guitar player and his band is as good as any band in the country. But he's also a top-shelf writer, with a blade-sharp wit and love songs so real and tender they seem to transcend the form. I know of few writers whose relationship to their own landscape, in this case the rural north, is so elemental, and so integral. His songs feel like weather. People know him in Minnesota, where most bar bands seem to cover at least one of his songs, but otherwise he's still one of the best kept secrets in the country. He sings about an America that doesn't get much play anymore, the one where the people at the bottom can't quite get ahead, and where working people aren't cartoon props in a culture war, but shrewd human beings living hard lives, and hard loves. His songs have the diamond-hard clarity and simplicity of Tom Petty, and like Petty, Koskinen can sing a literal statement without metaphor or ornament, and make it move like poetry.