MICKEY NEWBURY'S LAST CD... SO FAR... READ REV BUCKMAN'S REVIEW
Where was I, darlin'? Did I lose my place again? Oh yes, we were talking about heart
and wouldn't you think that one heart could only hold so much pain and joy, longing and
yearning, heartache and delight without bursting? There's a heart I know of that seems to
be boundless in that regard.... His heart takes in and pumps back out more than you would
think one could handle in one lifetime, but it just keeps on pumping and beating, going on
and on..... Mickey Newbury mines the mountains that we all climb everyday..... He stands
amidships on a vessel that sits just offshore of our long, lonely nights and our loving,
joyous days..... He pilots a train through the tunnel of our memories and our lost, aching
pasts and comes out the other side whole and fresh and bursting into a morning's
sunlight.... At a time in a life and a career when most people are redoing the one or two
old hits that link them to their public, Mickey has given us Ten new pieces of that heart
and Ten new tales of his life and ours.... But, enough about us, darlin', let's deal.....
I had thought that when I heard last year's, Stories From the Silver Moon Cafe, that
I was satisfied, full up, push me back from the table and close my eyes.... But this.....
well; it continues all that Stories started and gives even more..... The concise, aching
melodies, so lovingly surrounded by beautifully crafted arrangements, and layers of sounds
that can actually make you feel like you are soaring above yourself.... The range of vocal
power, that has not lost, but gained as the years have passed, like a fine scotch taking
in the flavor of it's oaken casks..... from a full throated cry to an aching whisper in
the same line..... There comes a time when experience and life's fullness conspire to meet
at that perfect juncture and an artist is at his peak.... This is one of those times, and
my goodness, do these folks know how to make an album..... Credit must go to Paula Wolak,
Marty Hall, Bob Rosemurgy, Joe Gilchrist and Michael McDonald for crafting and shaping
this wonderful sound....
Mick opens with "In '59". Man alive, this isn't just entertainment, my friends.... When we're
born, unfortunately, we don't get an owner's manual, do we?.... Every once in a while it's nice
when somebody leaves a well in the valley for us to tarry at as we travel.... This is such
a place.... This man; born in Texas, baptized in England and Tennessee, and now living in
the Northwest, has been down many of the same roads you will travel.... He shows us that,
yes, there is pain and heartache and loneliness and despair, but that there is also room
for dreams and hopes and love and, most importantly, redemption.... He was so close to the
Ring of Fire that he must have burned his feet, but then he chose to walk away and turn
his back forever; but he never forgot, and now he shares a little of the tale with us....
"So, Que Paso? to the Hotel California.
Adios to the Mason-Dixon Line.
I've a rendezvous with the Lady, East of Eden.
I burned that highway down in '89.
Yes, I burned that highway down in '89."
Unequivocally, one of the great songs of my 50 years on the planet, and I really mean it;
this song ranks with all those songs that when you mention their name among friends, you
all stop for a moment of silence, hear angels sing, then go on your way..... You know what
I mean.... "In '59" is absolutely life-changing..... [Song exits, but not really, Liza
Martin and Mick continue with various strings through a train sound....]
"I Don't Love You (she said....)" with thunder and beautiful, soothing rainfall, may
just break your heart, the way it did mine.... This is the songwriter as singer and actor,
as the Anthony Hopkins of song, who with One line of lyric can let you hear the whole
years of the relationship in his voice, as the actor does with his face....
"The Last Question (In the Dead of the Night)" continues with the same folks, only
now He has heard her, finally, and He realizes, deep in the dark-heart of the night, that
he has missed something, and that he will be missing it for a long time.... "How could I
not know you were pretending? Where did the truth lie in your eyes?"
"Here Comes The Rain, Baby", violin and cello lead to Mick's voice seamlessly.... Our
man, looking back, now, putting on the brave face that he'll need to continue his life....
"For a while you were mine, But the sun can't always shine. Here comes the rain, Baby...."
"One More Song of Hearts and Flowers" finds us back on the winding, lonely highway
again.... Lonely hours, yes indeed, but also, "new beginnings, all the glitter, all the
gold...." Mick hits some of those high notes that chill me, the acoustic guitars tug the
heart.... The mandolin eases in for flavor and we are back to rain....
A lovely string ensemble piece leads us into "Where Are You Darlin' Tonight" and the
Brave Face is lying in bed not feeling anything as much as wistful desire as the winter
unwinds and he realizes, once again, that all he lies with is memories and walls..... The
camera pans up and back; this is where we leave the story.....
"So Sad" is another Major song, not that they aren't All great, but if I say that too
much, you won't believe me, here in black and white, so I have to highlight the, um,
highlights as I hear them.... Everything about this song is.... beautifully crafted....
like a butterfly's wing.... The guitar, the cello, the flute-sound.... But mostly Mickey's
voice, the actor on stage again, selling the story, delivering the lines for all he is
worth until the climax on the So Sad after the fourth verse.... Mick whispers so sads
throughout, haunting, aching, heartbroken.... [melts into waves and beach sounds]
"Maybe" should be the ballad that you would hear all of the "standards" singers
clamoring to cover if, God Bless Us All, radio and media were the way they used to be....
This is THE standout "song" on the album; remember that I said that some of the others
were More than songs..... This is the song that you would play or sing to that young lady
or man that you wanted to feel about you the way you feel about them.... A vocal straight
from heaven, my friends, straight from heaven, Mick, I can't say it any other way.... A
Song for the Ages....
The Centerpiece, The Masterpiece.... After all we have already been through, is it
possible that there is still another well in this valley? "A Long Road Home" bookends "In
'59" as something you will take your hat off when it comes on for years and years.... It
is a man's life; Ulysses' voyage, Mick on the road of his life, carrying us on his
shoulder.... It is a movie, a book and a roadmap; places lived in and places just passed
through, but all places remembered on the way Home.... and a line I can barely write, it
means so much to me.... " Here's to tomorrow, here's to today, Here's to whatever I never
could say, Here's to the piper; the bastard's been paid...."
And there is "116 Westfield Street" a look back at the home of a childhood.... If you have ever done that, gone back and taken a peak, you'll feel it here again.... " My life is measured in small bits and pieces of time. Small bits and pieces of life that perfectly rhyme...." The perfect coda for this long road trip of a voyage that we've been on.... Where the laughter began, the dreams were dreamt in bedrooms late at night, the heartaches not yet envisioned, the walls and halls still standing proud, strong and tall, and everything still in perfect rhyme.....
Our lives, to each of us, are generally private.... Oh, you share a History with families and friends, but your dead of night, heart of darkness fears are your own and only you know them, and that's as it should be.... But to hear the soul of another traveler, who has stumbled on some of the same rocks, turned down some of the same alleys, weathered some of the same chilling storms; is a wondrous thing to have happen, it is a joyous moment when that light hits your brain like a diamond-tipped needle and you feel a familiar feeling coming back to you from outside yourself.....
Now, it might sound like I'm gushing, or throwing around fawning praise, and I
probably am.... I surrender, I'm guilty... But consider this: when you try to describe the face of your
child sleeping to a stranger, are you gushing? When you stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon
and tell of it to a blind man, are you throwing around feint praise? I promise you this,
as I stand here free, um, handsome and proud..... You have never heard anything this
good, this tender and this beautiful before..... and may never again..... Do something for
yourself for a change..... Listen to A Long Road Home..... Don't just get it and put it on
while you wash the dog, either.... Sit down and Listen to it.... You will never regret
it..... Have I ever lied to you before, campers? See you further on down the trail, my
friends...... Rev Buckman
THE BRAVEST AND THE FINEST
What was 110 story towers once,
Is five thousand stories now.
All those numbers were somebodys
Who were loved someway, somehow.
The Bravest and the Finest
The City had to give
Charged the stairs and the danger
Never more to live.
Lost in all the smoke and stone
Were lives stopped in the middle
Like a painting only halfway done
Leaving nothing but a riddle.
Some were lost while going up
And some were heading down,
But each one had a family,
Each one had a town.
So sing their songs, you singers,
Let us leave no mystery,
Speak always of the fallen,
And assure their History.
For tho' when that day started,
They seemed like all the rest,
It's Heroes now that they've become,
And All their Souls are Blessed......
Rev Buckman
BEST WHEN VIEWED IN FULL-SCREEN...
USE THE LINKS AT THE TOP TO MOVE AROUND THE CAMPGROUNDS...KEEP COMIN' BACK, WE LOVE HAVING YOU HERE....
The Invitation"
by Oriah from the book THE INVITATION, published by Harper San Francisco, 1999. All rights reserved.
The full text of "The Invitation" is on her website
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what
you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's
longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will
risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure
of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to
know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have
been opened by life's betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without
moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can
dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes without cautioning to be careful, be realistic, or
to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true. I want
to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you
can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. I
want to know if you can be faithless, and, therefore, be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty
every day, and if you can source your life from spiritual presence. I
want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still
stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you
have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and
despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done
for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here. I want to
know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not
shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I
want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls
away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you
truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
MICKEY NEWBURY'S LAST CD... SO FAR... READ REV BUCKMAN'S REVIEW
