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Five pleasant looking young men took to the stage. Pleasant because they smiled, didn't say too much and seemed pleased to see us. Where was the wild wind? It came creeping at first. With a syncopated swagger,drums and the percussive wizard whipped sly-slick rhythms. Two-stepping bass danced around the intertwined licks of twinned acoustic guitars, as the stage swirled and the singer howled. I acquired the stare whilst whistling up the delta, to the open- country plains where the old hoe-down with the new. The next day a friend asked me what Grain had sounded like. The whispering winds turned my words inside out...."