Just when you think his music is all lit up like a leaky propane tank in a fireworks factory, Pigat can bring it down to 3 am embers with trouble in mind as he steps out and opens up his trunk full of Boxcar Campfire songs to romance you with.

Blessed with a jazz man’s sheen, a rockabilly heart and a hobo’s soul, there aren’t many genres of music that don’t pull at Pigat’s wayfaring imagination like a magnet. In many ways, it’s a mystery why Paul Pigat isn’t a household name yet. Maybe he’d be a lot easier to pin down if he wasn’t so darn good at so many different things.