Charlie Parr holds an air of mystery about him. The story goes that one spring day in 1979, a young Charlie Parr made his way down to East Side Lake in Austin, Minnesota carrying a Johnson 9.9 outboard motor and half of a gallon of gas. His pockets were stuffed with stolen cans of Blatz. The motor did him no good at the lake since he didn’t have a boat, but he was lucky and traded it to a truck driver at a nearby filling station for a beat up Gibson 12-string guitar. He kept the gas.
On his site he is described as both a confused and shy individua. He plays with a great deal of energy and easily grabs the attention of anyone in the room at the time. He plays original and traditional folk and Piedmont-style blues, accompanying himself on National resonator guitars, 12-string guitar and sometimes a banjo.
According to his biography: Charlie Parr has failed at most things in his life. Music seems to have rendered him unemployable and is the only thing he’s ever done with any confidence. A lot of folks have been saying nice things about Charlie, despite the lingering odors and indecipherable comments he makes. It says a lot about folks; they’re hanging in there with him, in spite of himself – I don’t doubt any of it for a minute.
He has managed to sneak out another album called When the Devil Goes Blind which is due for release in October.
I Dreamed I Saw Jesse James Last Night
South Of Austin, North Of Lyle
Where You Gonna Be
For The Drunkard’s Mother
Ain’t No Grave Gonna Hold My Body Down
Up Country Blues
I Was Lost Last Night