In a national survey completed at one point in the last ten years, Mansfield, Ohio received a rating as one of the top five ugliest cities in the nation. Anyone driving its highways and city roads might half-heartedly agree, the city's womb and inner parts a sprawling morass of empty warehouses, boarded-up homes, struggling businesses, and grey pavement.
And yet, as always, beauty is stubborn and persistent. It spills out between pieces of sidewalk, soars high above in the elegance of church steeples and stained glass, and grows thick despite our best efforts. Outside of the city, down back roads and off of the highways, one finds trees and woodland near-primeval in their greenery, stillness broken only by birdsong and the occasional passing car.
It is from this place, named the heart of ugliness by others, that two men, determined in their creativity, have endeavoured to enlist a veritable army of their friends to join them in music-making. It is brave song in the face of urban sprawl, note-woven reminders of hope, peace, and glory in the face of roadway construction. This is not a "band" so much as an orchestra of unique parts, a horn and string section, marching drums, and vocal choir strung together with denim, dried leaves, and guitar string. It is music made by friends, for friends (and those who would be so if they wished it).
This is Every Gentle Air.
