Nathan Ryan Vincible CD

***Vincible was chosen as a top 10 Local Album (Seattle) during 2003 by KEXP.org's John Richards******Named a Top Album of 2003 on lookingcloser.org- Jeffrey Overstreet******The song: "soundtrack title IX", was featured on a documentary film entitled: Playing Hardball: Gender Equity in College Sports- which won national awards.******Vincible has received airplay on college stations around the nation.***"Nathan Ryan's solo debut Vincible is a work of heartfelt songwriting, a softer sort of Pedro the Lion. . .this album is strikingly personal and honest. It is full of simple expressions of faith in the midst of relationship turmoil. I am curious to see how Ryan grows from this confident foundational recording." - Jeffrey Overstreet of lookingcloser.org"Downbeat, morose, and lovelorn, Ryan strips his country-folk-blues agenda stark naked with the benefit of affectation so that all you're left with is Ryan's plaintive voice and his jangling acoustic guitar. Alt-country fans would do well to take note of Ryan's bold and confident reliance on nothing more than a threadbare song." Kevin Mathews- The Phantom TollboothRecorded in his 2 bedroom apartment with one microphone and a four track recorder: Nathan Ryan's debut album Vincible is a simplistic and melodic album, and yet is complex in the storyteller's dilemmas with inner and relational turmoil.*Preacher, Priest, Liar, Thief*I can paint the outside, but the inside of the house of my heart is still a wreck. I can invite you in once a week to fix this mess, but love ain't a hire for rent. Honesty is sweet like a kiss on the lips, but how can I kiss the man in the mirror without being a hypocrite. When no one is there- it's easy not to have to share. I'm a preacher, I'm a priest, I'm a liar, I'm a thief, I'm a destitute, a prostitute, an adulterer, I'm a whore, and when the murder weapon's in my hand- and I cast the lots- I still don't understand why you love me.I wait for you in a room where the paint is peeling- it's peeling in the shape of the state of Maine. I can speak ambiguously out of both sides of my mouth to avoid addressing the state of my pain. Words can cut straight through the skin- on the outside It looks fine, but it's a wreck within. If love isn't real- there's really nothing left to feel. I'm a preacer, I'm a priest, I'm a liar, I'm a thief, I'm a low-caste, an outcast, my only friend is grief. and when the murder weapon's in my hand- and I cast the lots- I still don't understand why you love me. Hallelujah (there's still hope for me).*Still*Who do you trust? When their iron-clad love has turned to rust? When you're so messed up you don't know the difference between love and lust. When wrong seems right and right seems so unfamiliar and unjust. Be still now- know love's nameWho do you know- when everyone you know decides to get up and to go? They were on the sidelines pointing at you and now they're pointing out the things you did and didn't do- things you meant to. Be still now- know love's name.Where do I turn? When all the bridges I so carefully built have slowly burned. And you no longer thirst for life but you mournfully yearn. We see now but a poor reflection in a mirror, that hopefully soon will become clearer. Be still now- know love's name.* Farewell, L.s.*I walk a line that I paint whenever I'm with you. I have held sin in my hand as I've cupped holy water. And I told myself- why bother? Who really cares when you're all alone, and the needle's still in your hand? Who really cares when you're all alone, and I've made myself more less than a man?I swim rigid, frigid waters rather than in your warm pools. I write the rules then I break them as I choose. I told myself I've got nothing left to lose. Who really cares when you're all alone, and the needle's still in your hand? Who really cares when you're all alone, and I've made myself more less than a man?Now I could tell you that I'm sorry, but I'm tired of lying, because I've lied before.And I could writ