
Ah Holly Fam'ly broke the silence of a hushed Berbati's Pan Thursday night and inadvertently transported the crowd to a lonely farm in Idaho, all clad in streams and dry grass and food-rearing mammals. At least that's where I went. Suddenly, I had wildflowers adorning my pig-tail braids, a straw hat, denim overalls, and I was wandering in the meadow with my pet goat. Back at Berbati's, Ah Holly Fam'ly were drawing bows across violins, whispering into flutes, strumming acoustic guitars, and singing harmonies with the serenity and innocence of a children's church [...]