Nearly everything good about Stomp and Stammer, we've ripped off from another source. In 1983 The Windbreakers released an EP called Any Monkey With a Typewriter. Is it mere coincidence that my semi-regular front-of-zine editorial carries that name? I'm not sayin', but I will tell you that the 'Breakers were one of the best and most underappreciated "New South" bands of the '80s, and it pleases me to no end that half of their songwriting core, Tim Lee, is currently making music that's in many ways even better. Sure, there's nothing terribly unique about his group's familiar, twangy Southern jangle - driving hard when it needs to and cruising comfortably when the feeling's right - and his weary everyman's voice sounds just like that, like it could be coming from your NASCAR-lovin' neighbor at the end of the cul de sac. But therein lies much of the beauty of Lee's simple, poetic country rock. It's real, and it doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is. Written largely with his wife, bassist Susan Bauer, Concrete Dog may not be as profoundly wonderful as 2004's No Discretion, in that it seems a bit more workmanlike, but it deserves your ears.