Jedd Hughes describes life with transcendental precision: a sleepless night in Modesto; a childhood on the edge of the sprawling Australian desert; an old friend whose wit is still razor-sharp, finally at peace. 
 Listening to Hughes, you don’t just picture a place or a person. You experience them. It makes sense, then, that Hughes’s technicolor world has often felt too formidable for three verses and a chorus. He couldn’t settle for making music that was anything but all of him, and so we waited––waited on the kid legends befriended and believed in––to find a way to capture the smoky stories and sounds that danced and beckoned to him, just out of focus. 
 The wait is over. In the summer of 2019, Hughes will release WEST, his years-anticipated solo album of his expansive roots-anchored rock-and-roll. Hughes’ easy tenor and masterful guitar playing are worthy companions to his songwriting that transports listeners to dark corners and astral visions, evoking desperation, restlessness, and poignant recognition. The record is a triumph, both personally and professionally. “I came over here to make my own music––that was my dream,” Hughes says. “I started suppressing that dream when things went wrong. Then to make my own music, I had to figure out what that even was. I had to get some confidence, to try it again, and believe in myself.”