The vestiges of teenage angst that epitomized the last decade of your life don’t ring true anymore. It’s that new mid-twenties crisis you’ve been reading about. We spend so much time defining ourselves by telling others what we’re not that we begin to wonder what we actually are. It’s that thing that the bitter old punks can’t figure out and the new era of yuppies are trying to forget. We’re all individuals, but we only know how to frame ourselves in opposition to others. Teenage angst may be responsible for some of the most remarkable records of all time; but the unfortunate reality is that sincerity--that keystone to all respectable art--dictates that the finest voices of that particular period of inner turmoil have a very short window of time for crafting their work. It’s a shame that youth is wasted on the young—the naked emotional honesty rarely has the chops to back it up. Musicians grow older, and they have to find new ways to translate the issues they encounter with adulthood. Perhaps that’s why the older crowd’s output tends to be a bit boring. At the risk of seeming naïve or suspended in adolescence, they forsake the turbulent side of their personalities and focus on more “grown up” concepts or ham-fisted abstractions. Rare is the older songwriter that can remind us of the tragedies and triumphs in our daily lives without coming across as soft or overly sentimental. Enter Canon Canyon, modern day troubadours willing to remind us of how simultaneously great and awful life can be. Projecting pessimism tempered with a smirk and optimism reigned in with the wisdom of past failures, Canon Canyon’s bittersweet compositions are the laments of both the laymen and the urbanite. And like many musicians transitioning into grown-up responsibilities, Canon Canyon recognizes that sometimes the most powerful statement is the most simple and straightforward one. Armed with a Telecaster, a baritone voice, and a drum kit, the music succeeds at being populist without pandering to an audience. Canon Canyon may well be the new folk hero of our time. Pour yourself a pint. Find a dark room with a buzzing neon light and a few familiar faces. Bum a cigarette. Play Sit Down and Listen and ruminate without self-pity. Remember that everyone is trying to figure all this shit out, and all you can do is shrug it off and keep going for it. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.