DAVID ARN - "These Strange Days"
- Adam Jones - MusicFarmer5
- 2 days ago
- 2 min read
MUSIC FARMER 5 - Review by Adam Jones
A Whispered Hymn for the Wounded Heart

In “These Strange Days,” DAVID ARN immediately captivates the listener with an intimate urgency—leaning in gently, like a confidant at twilight, delivering a mystical melody wrapped in memory and dust. The song begins like a hush: acoustic guitar and bass walk hand-in-hand through a quiet landscape, delicate as morning frost. It’s not just music—it’s a feeling, drifting in on the breath of someone who’s seen too much, yet still hopes to feel again.
DAVID ARN's vocal enters—rich with experience & grace—a quality echoing the timeless ache of Johnny Cash and the comforting clarity of James Taylor. His delivery is unrushed, intimate, and unshakably sincere, allowing every word to land with full emotional weight. “These strange days shake me to the core / I try to recall comfort that came before”—the lyric hangs in the air like smoke, too honest to ignore.
There’s a kind of magic in the stillness here. After the first chorus, an accordion rises beneath the vocal like an old friend joining the room—its chords full and warm, sounding almost orchestral, yet touched with a twang that roots it firmly in Americana. It fills the space not with grandeur, but with something more sacred: soul.
The imagery in DAVID ARN’s writing is sharp and cinematic. “Color TV in the Ohio night”, “your kisses turned the wheel”, “melody in memory of a mourning dove”—each line is a snapshot, a small piece of a life that feels both particular and universal. It’s a song of longing, yes, but also one of resilience, where even the ghosts hum quietly along.
There’s a sacred sorrow running through this track, born not from despair, but from the aching beauty of remembrance. It feels like the kind of song you find by accident—on a night drive, or in the last light of day—and realize it knows you. Somehow, it knows you.
