I’ve never understood why people don’t universally praise Richard Buckner, but I’m beginning to get it. His last 4 records, in particular, have abandoned the acoustic/’intimate’ vibes that a lot of ‘serious lyrics’ type dudettes and dudes expect to find “adorning” things, sort of like a pearl necklace on a playmate.
Au contraire, Buckner’s sought out the righteousest of players (Grubbs, O’Rourke, Duplantis, Heywood, King Buzzo, Doug Gillard) and made really singular records of his hard-driving road poems. The music matches the writing in the sense that one feels it without being able to – without wanting to – explain it. That’s a compliment, the last time I checked.
That said, the most recent offering of Buckner’s isn’t going to be the one to win over the masses, or even David Fricke or whoever. Sonically it’s pretty much Dents and Shells pt. 2. But that’s a compliment, ‘last time I checked.