Andrew (“Saint Andrew”) Charles has been bouncing around Cleveland for 30 years. He’s done bids with underground legends Knifedance and Stepsister, and also spent six years in Los Angeles during the golden age of the city’s punk scene in the early ’80s. Time has taken a toll on him. Wan and weary, he’s distilled the experience into Truth, a self-produced affair that plays like an early Bob Dylan bootleg, down to a jangly version of Dylan’s “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere.”

This former Bowling Green student who once had his mind blown by the Pagans is now an old-timey blues troubadour, playing harmonica and slide guitar in an acoustic setting. Like many an aging rocker, he’s starting to worry about his soul. Lonely and exhausted, he’s on his knees for “Oh Lord,” singing, “Come on Jesus/Please release us/My eyelids fall/I’ve seen it all.” Truth proves that sometimes a couple of fine tunes can make good use of a damaged past.

This article appears in Jul 27 – Aug 2, 2005.