When Jason Molina passed from the early-indie scene, he took a litany of musical progress along with him. Luckily for us, Max Blau took notice; down by the Chicago Reader, he gives us the profile of an artist for our times:
“[Jason] was large and multitudinous: commensurately inspiring and frustrating, goofy and gloomy, spontaneous and studied, generous and self-absorbed, loyal and flaky, wise and naive, trusting and paranoid, outgoing and reserved, honest and totally full of shit, and every blessed and profane thing in between,” his former bandmate, Max Winter, wrote after his death. “And it’s all there in his music.”
