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Let My Love Open the Dawes – Nothing is Wrong Review

June 14, 2011

Or if I'd named this blog "A great joke in every alt-text". But that didn't roll off the tongue.

That’s one disgusting headline.


There’s a funny story about Dawes that I think I should tell here. You see, a few years back, when they were just starting out, Dawes were just about halfway through their first major tour as a band, when their support act dropped out. He was sick, or his dad died, or something or other, and it couldn’t be avoided, but it left Dawes in the lurch – a band needs an opener, y’know? And it’s not like they were well-known or anything; hell, the places they were playing were usually no bigger than your living room, and the only relief from the stuffiness of a crowded room would be the cool American breeze that would sometimes float through the open windows.

So they look for a new opening act, and they look, and they look, and they can’t find anyone available on such short notice. Now, up in heaven or in the clouds or whatever, God’s looking down, and he likes Dawes, because they seem like nice boys, so he wanted to help out. So, for the last six shows, God decided that he would open for Dawes: he’d take on human form, put on a cowboy hat, adopt a rural American accent and a country singer’s name (he already had the beard), and give Dawes the support act they needed.

Dawes, of course, had no idea that this country singer they’d taken on was the good lord. They barely even spoke to him, as God mostly kept to himself to avoid accidentally giving the game away. They did notice, however, that he always wore about three layers more than anyone else around. (God, you see, would find the Earth cold, on account of being from heaven, which is much closer to the sun.) But they knew he was one heck of a country singer, and the crowds always loved him, and the six gigs that were left on the tour went better than any they’d played before. But after each of the six gigs, the band would find themselves dehydrated, almost to the point of heat stroke, as if that cool American breeze had disappeared.

You see, whenever God opens for Dawes, he closes the windows.

The singer's son was making high-pitched noises all night. Dawes' son squeaks. (Dawson's Creek)

What? The review? Um. It’s really good.

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