Chad Warrix and David Tolliver were raised with about 50 miles and another county between them in the southeastern end of Kentucky. Their parents are hard-working blue-collar middle-class, they both have two older sisters, they grew up in small and smaller towns, did well in school, played sports, went fishing, and jumped on dirt bikes and ATV’s every chance they got. When they were old enough to drive a car, each crossed their county line to get to Hazard, Queen City of the Mountains and, says Tolliver, “the social hub for people who grew up where we did.” Warrix concurs. “There wasn’t anything much in Jackson where I’m from, and even less in Hindman, where David’s from. But Hazard had a movie theater and several places to eat.”

Halfway to Hazard are the opening words of “Cold,” the first song David Tolliver and Chad Warrix wrote together several years after each had put Kentucky in their rear view mirror and ended up in Music City. A pain-and-booze soaked ache for love gone cold, the geographical reference to the midway point from opposite directions to the Queen City of the Mountains is one they both know well, a literal and figurative mile marker on the paths both took to become Halfway to Hazard.

Halfway to Hazard is no-holds barred, nothing held back, pedal to metal, all the way. It is music that is honest, open, gritty and rough around the edges by musicians who make no excuses for who they are or apologies for where they’re from. They’re Halfway to Hazard, and they’re taking the long way home.