Always a favorite at Beartrap, Wyoming's own Jalan Crossland once again surpassed expectations and brought the crowd to their feet. Few have tried, but none will likely ever be able to de-thrown the king of Wyoming folk music!
Have you ever heard of a "Whack-A-Do" stick? No? Well, neither had I... not until I saw Jalan Crossland's set in the Meadow this year. Drummers are often known for their antics, but these guys took it to level 11. Check out the video!
Jalan Crossland is becoming quite the alum at the Beartrap Summer Festival! He's now taken the stage two days in a row--each day drawing a larger crowd. The local has drawn quite the gathering in the Casper area, as well as the state
Wyoming native and favorite, Jalan Crossland, came up to Beartrap Summer Festival's 20th anniversary to do what he does best - be himself and play amazing songs.
Ten Sleep's native son Jalan Crossland's celebration of 20 years as a touring singer/songwriter will coincide with his appearance at the upcoming 20th anniversary of the Beartrap Summer Festival, August 2 and 3.
Johnny Cash. Elvis Costello. Eric Clapton. Dustin Kensrue. These are the men that define a certain style of music. But, it's more than just a style of music. It's an attitude, a lifestyle. It's folk music, but it's so much more. It's blues, rock, pop, classical, and more all rolled into one. It's a public diary of a broken soul, and if there is one man that gets what folk music is, it's Jalan Crossland.
Despite the stagemanship and repertoire that has earned singer/songwriter Jalan Crossland the upbeat sobriquet “The Trailer-Park Troubadour,” he's much more than just a pretty face.
Though (because?) he lives in a town whose population is 307, he has an almost uncanny grasp of the machinations of heartbreak and human nature, as expressed in lyrics such as “Checkout time / And the Sunday morning sunshine / Is a jury trial...”
"There ain't much to see in a small town, but what you hear sure makes up for it" is the old adage. In Ten Sleep WY population 307, what you'll hear - more often than not - is a clanky old banjo ricocheting off the storefronts and buttes, like a renegade