In the style of Sturgill Simpson, Marc Broussard and Chris Stapleton J Edwards has slipped under the industry radar for many years. While others were running in the rat race to be recognized by major labels in the maze of Nashville's ever changing music scene, Edwards was content to play the extensive repertoire of his original songs in the hidden alleyways and dives often only stumbled into by some lucky tourist trying to get away from the "Bar Room Top 40" that is so prevalent in the downtown area of Music City. That is exactly how he got to move around the extremes of this country so unnoticed for so long. Popping up in Lower Alabama to play for a barrel full of serious J Edwards fans and then flying into Chicago to play for another intense group of music lovers is a constant. He is the real Traveling Troubadour! While the other aforementioned music makers were still trying to jump start their hot rod vehicles in the music business, J Edwards was hauling ass down the back roads with two thoroughbred mules and a souped up hay wagon on his way to the next small town for another Roots Music Revival. While Nashville was telling him "Go on to Memphis, don't even stop in Nashville" Memphis was telling him "There's no place for you here. You don't look like all the other Blues players." That's no problem for Edwards, because he's on a plane to some sleepy city to play everywhere BUT the big concert halls. He'll play 5 or 6 times in 4 days before jumping on the early plane to make it back to his Sunday morning sanctuary in Nashville, Bootlegger's Inn, to call out to the lost and wandering tourist "Come on in, the whiskey is fine. We'll move around you can pull up a stool here next to mine."