Bryan Free's name is no clever play on patriotism. It is a lifestyle heard in his music, and in his mumbled onstage social commentary. "Every artist must recognize and free themselves from popular artistic restrictions," he says on his website. Bryan's new debut album, Poison I Drank From, is flat-out honest. The eleven songs, backed by an array of drum loops, trombones, saxophones, and nostalgic melodies, were self-produced, and for the most part, self performed. But the core of each song is very simple: honest lyrics and piano. Periodically accompanied by his ambiguous back-up band, The Doxy Haunts, Bryan plays frequently in Portland, OR. His following is due largely in part to the free 9-song demos he handed out in 2002. But, according to Bryan, the insatiable craving for artistic reconciliation only partially comes from an audience. "I'll sing to a blank wall if it really comes down to that. But I get tired of the carpet growing up over my shoes while I practice. Hopefully, someone else worries about work, love, and the social evils of daytime television." Bryan began playing music as a child: forced to hunch over an upright Baldwin before elementary and middle school, in the bleary-eyed morning. Fifteen years later, practice comes easier, and he's in no hurry to run off to work. Priorities change. "We invest in time--school, job, AT&T broadband--so that we can buy ourselves more time. We fill our planners and our pocketbooks; empty pages won't make a human, they'll just divert our attention. From 9:00am to 5:00pm we look for an identity that time will give us, regardless. Refocus. Change your priorities."