Tim Easton is an unassuming Americana bar band folk-rocker who sneaks weird scenes inside what sound like neo-traditionalist rock tunes. Guitars strum, keyboards add texture, and Easton’s salt-of-the-earth vocals remind one of other street scene singers from Willie Nile to Steve Earle to any number of alt-country rockers. What he lacks in idiosyncrasy, Easton makes up for with solid, unpretentious execution. “Broke My Heart” has an upturned curl to its delivery. The title track resembles the manic rush of a bar band trying to finish out the night on a high note. “Baltimore,” with its predictable shuffle, is sung from inside the soul of an unrepentant serial killer who’s killed at least four people. “Long Cold Night In Bed” settles in for quiet introspection that aims for the heart-wrenching solemnity of Paul Westerberg. “The Young Girls” hits the blues bottle for some slide guitar and a compulsive sense of obsession. “Stormy” clacks like a railcar into the distant night. Easton’s a journeyman who’s clearly savoring the trip.