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 Once there was a boy named Ray Elliott from the Rocky Mountains of Alberta right near the great divide. The mountains would speak and he would write and this was how it was to be.  . The boy grew to man and found he would have to leave the mountains .To the prairies he would go and this was how it was to be. He would find his home near the North Saskatchewan River   Saskatoon. There he found others, they would play   the music of the prairies, but the man always carried the mountains with him too. People would ask the man what music do you sing and play on your guitar? People call it folk rock or alt country the man would reply, knowing when they heard it they would have their own names for the sounds they heard. The others played pedal steel, bass, Dobro guitar , accordion and drums. Songs that change like the weather in the mountains or flow free like   waves on wheat fields in the wind, nothing too complicated, simple really, something to connect with, an experience to be shared. The man was content with this. Tales of us all in this Great Lone Land, this is who we are.