There is a narcissistic element inherent in any good frontman that is intrinsic to their trade; unfortunately, it also leads to a fair number of them going off to do ill-advised solo albums. And so we have Dead Meadow’s Jason Simon and his self-titled (mostly) acoustic jaunt through backwater Americana and the mundane everyday of country music in its most banal form. On the whole, this is a very dull album full of wistful ditties that can be heard in one guise or another on every American country music station from here to Timbuktu. However, occasionally moments of wonder surface like gold nuggets in the sieve of muddy river water: ‘The Dust Does Blow’ is by a country mile the standout track, its hurdy-gurdy drone adding real depth to a glorious acoustic riff that evokes such vivid images of the never-ending Midwest. It has a spark of joy within that the rest of the album sorely lacks and as the album drags on in a sad monotony through an uninspired rendition of Bob Dylan’s ‘As I Went Out One Morning’ and a particularly irritating ‘What You Put Into Your Head...’, it is still ‘The Dust That Blows’ that lives on in the memory banks.