Jared Dustin Griffin

He begins the journey with a quickly strummed, “I am the Calvary.” The fiddle is a sunrise hiding behind empty space before it jumps back in mid verse. The song returns and the fiddle slow drawn joins in harmony with Ms. Little’s voice in the chorus. The song ends upbeat and sets the stage for the remainder of the song. despite the burden, there is a hopeful optimism tucked behind the verses and instrumentation.

Another upbeat song complementing his voice is the third track, “Turn Me Loose.” The square dance fiddle and two step sound truly bring you out of your seat. You can’t help but dance and move around when you hear it. With such a gravel tinged voice, hearing him perform upbeat songs complement the range and versatility of his voice as well as song-crafting abilities. He’s also writing verses he knows he can hit. The song opens him up and keeps the happiness afloat as the upper notes of his range are showcased. This is a great song!

I love a good saloon stomp. “Howl at the Moon” is a saloon song, piano bar frolicking with voice’s joining in and sitting next to the keys. He’s more than a younger Tom Waits. He can stretch his voice and change the ambiance to the happiness in the effort. Even at the end of the evening, this song gets you home safely and with a fun ride back down the hill. The keys are prominent and bang the chords with the chorus in tight harmony.

The highlight song for its depth and introspection is “Shook.” The quick picking during the verses matched by a slower drawn rosin slipping bow and echoing bass create a haunted sound. It’s sounds like a sound coming to terms with deep trauma and choosing to shake good back into the grit of life. There is something beautiful about it, like understanding and sharing a common pain that is only ended with the punctuation of quickly versed upbeat vocals forming an abrupt shaking up of what a lamentation standardly sounds like. “Annely’s Lament” follows and jogs the soundtrack as the boulder of sad songs was perilously close to crushing down the album. With “Puncher’s Chance,” and “Opal,” the final songs turn into the more perceptibly personal as his main character continues to push that stone up the hill.

After the first listen, the album was impressive and the songs held together as a whole. The overall track ordering worked with the dynamic and tempo of the album, keeping it dynamic, turning criticism into a lullaby. The concept of Sisyphus and the struggle being the point and place of joy – was wrapped within the lyrics and recognizable as a leit motif, without ever forcing the connection. This is a must hear and a fantastic sophomore album by Jared Dustin Griffin – give it a listen!

Christopher Stackowicz - Americana Highways

“Bags of Bones” plays out like a weathered folk eulogy, capturing the weary moments after life has relentlessly beaten you down. Strings and keys cloud the track with mournful countermelodies, while Heather Little’s vocal harmonies offer a crystalline contrast to the rough sandpaper grit of Griffin’s vocals. Griffin hits the same coarse stylistic notes as artists like Tom Waits and Leonard Cohen, and like those inspirations, his gravelly tone only lends his lyrics more emotive weight.

His reflections are downcast, but they also offer a strange comfort. He settles into the aching pain of chasing after a dream, doggedly continuing until long after you’ve given your all. Yet, he also sings the song as if to a partner, offering a hint of warmth and companionship to blunt the sting of exhaustion: “So pull the rope when you cry dear / All our hope will not hide these bags of bones / You said we’re born just to die here / So the little I do / The little I don’t / It won’t mind us.”

Under the Radar

From the moment I pressed play, “Howl at the Moon” by Jared Dustin Griffin radiated a wild‑at‑heart energy that instantly stirred me. I felt that night‑born spark as if I’d just stumbled into a twilight street parade. Blending ragtime piano, growly, Southern‑tinged vocals, and fiddle‑laced rhythm, Griffin crafts a Southern‑Gothic revelry that’s both celebratory and cathartic.

The song feels like an invitation to shed life’s burdens through song, and the line “maybe the sweat will wash away the sin” rings with redemptive clarity. I find myself smiling at its raw honesty and knowing swagger; it’s exactly the kind of gritty, spirited romp I love sharing with readers. In my view, this single is an exhilarating introduction to his forthcoming album, Perseverance of Sisyphus, and I’m already eager for what comes next.

Indie Spirits

The album feels spectral, ancient, even biblical at times. His lyrics lean theological—summoning the angels, the devil, the blood of lamb—but Griffin’s devoutness pertains to the inherently holy experience of man.

Glide Magazine

The Marinade Podcast 

Episode 151 

BY Jason Earle

Welcome to The Marinade, a free-flowing conversation about the creative process with creative people. Each episode we welcome musicians, actors, comedians, authors, visual artists, filmmakers- anyone who creates art to talk about how and why we make stuff. 

This is Episode 151 and our guest is Jared Dustin Griffin. Jared is a singer and songwriter who has undergone an incredible journey to get to this moment. His debut solo record Battle Cry Mercy will be released on November 17, 2023 and it is one of my favorite albums of the year. He has battled homelessness, addiction, and mental health challenges and those themes are dealt with in a gorgeous collection of songs.

Glide Magazine

Griffin’s gruff and gritty vocals that feel like a cross between Ryan Bingham and Tom Waits while still maintaining their own unique sound. The themes of grief and loss are clear in the mournful vocals and melancholy harmonies, as Griffin sings in a way that is simultaneously vulnerable, dark, and hopeful ultimately making for a stirring work of Americana-folk.

Jared Dustin Griffin's Creative Confessions

BY LEE ZIMMERMAN (AMERICAN SONGWRITER)

Like most artists, Jared Dustin Griffin was waylaid during the pandemic and given plenty of time to muse and meditate about what he needed to do in order to move forward. The result of those endeavors, Battle Cry Mercy, is a meaningful collection of rugged, resilient songs that reflect a sense of struggle, sacrifice, and ultimate redemption. Griffin’s own individual challenges, as informed by his battles with mental health issues, homelessness, failed romance, and addiction, are at the root of these songs, and indeed the impassioned performances shared with opening tracks “My Name Is Cannonball” and “Bleed You Away,” reflect the fact his life has often been burdened with misery and marginalization. 

That said, Griffin is clearly driven. While the cloud of circumspect hangs heavy over this set of songs, his gruff vocals reflect the fact that he refuses to allow his demons to take command. The upbeat “Sweet Ol’ Loneliness” makes a case for relishing isolation, while “Little Arrows” is surprisingly jolly and jaunty in its dramatic delivery. “Bottle on the Stove” confronts his temptations head-on, making it clear that he’s aware of the challenges he faces with any attempt to stay sober. The wistful “Black and Gold” follows suit. 

Griffin’s gritty vocals are especially affecting throughout, and when he sings dying ain’t no sin in the song “Hold My Troubles,” he affects the sound of a man who’s determined his destiny and is unafraid to face it head-on. So too, the tender trappings of “Howlin” share a sense of resignation, and while hardly serendipitous, it’s not about surrender. Griffin’s a tenacious troubadour with a clear desire to persevere despite whatever obstacles may come his way. There’s a decided insistence imbued in each of these offerings, and on a song like the fiddle-fueled “Outpost Blues,” that resilience is all too obvious. 

Given its meticulous arrangements—no less than 22 musicians help Jared realize this musical quest— Battle Cry Mercy is wholly expressive in terms of its drive and daring. I must try to find the courage in this battle with who I am, he declares on the album’s sad and sobering final track, the tellingly-titled “Landmines.” Both confessional and compelling, it like the album as a whole, resonates with resolve.