Excavating Lead

One of the great joys if you're a packrat-y writer is you run into your old clips in the strangest places. When moving at work from building to building recently I stumbled onto my clips when I did the music writing thing for awhile, back in the era before everything got cached away on the internets. Part of that was this intro to an interview with Richard Buckner before he played town in 1998. It's overwrought, sure, but it's my kind of overwrought, a Bucknerian overwrought. Plus he popped up in Friday's random ten. So, here I quote me:

That next drink means the bottle’s empty and your mind is full. Someone’s singing off in another room of the house you always thought was haunted and you’re thinking 'bout that person you always had a hunch you could fall in love with if the light could only hit your faces just right at the self same instant. The other room music grows in intensity, which isn’t volume. And it dawns on you the other room might be your head. It’s playing something sort of countrified, as much in the voice, which sounds like 45 r.p.m. wisdom, as the tune, which creaks at times, cries at others, casual as someone’s heart left cut out on the kitchen table.

Or maybe you’re just listening to Richard Buckner’s major label debut, Devotion + Doubt....

(12 of 31 in the drive to 2500)