Charlotte Observer
In the early-to-mid 1990s the members of the Balsa Gliders were in the audience at Cat’s Cradle in Carrboro watching the Veldt and Dillon Fence on stage. Two decades later, those same guys share the Visulite stage with some of the same musicians who inspired them to give music a go.
Walter Magazine
Put an ear to a window of St. Michael’s Episcopal Church a little shy of midnight on a random Wednesday or Thursday night, and you might just hear music. Not sacred music, but roof-raising rock ’n’ roll.
That’s because the St. Michael’s rector, Greg Jones, is not only the head of one of the region’s most active and fastest-growing Episcopal churches, he is also the bass player of the Raleigh indie rock band Balsa Gliders.
Mountain XPress
I’ve been working on a birthday playlist — a song that charted each year of my life. One thing I’ve noticed: I can’t choose a song based on how I felt about it during its year. It’s all about how it’s weathered and my relationship to it now (though that relationship is likely tinted by past feelings and experiences). Another thing: songs have their place in time. Little in music is timeless.
Charlotte Magazine
One listen to The Balsa Glider's new EP, Photographic Friends (and specifically to the song, "Maybe Ted and Ashley"), and you'll wish the guys would quit their day jobs, make more music, and tour constantly.