Words by Devin Kirby-Hansen//Illustration by Jorge Tapia
“Meadow” is an old Civil War-era house, with a swing and a porch with creaking boards. It’s a town in the ‘30s with lazy streets, deceptively quiet. It’s a startling combination of a dozen memories you can’t really place—snippets of conversation, a few notes of a melody familiar, but fading, and eventually a place far removed from the suburban perspective most of us share. The voice of its narrator is so perfectly imperfect that you can’t say whether the lyrics are being sung or if you’re intruding on a very personal dialogue between two old friends.

Those words are the absolute driving force for the album and seldom indulge in repeating a line or reviving a chorus. In the booklet for the album, they are punctuated and arranged like the dialogue from a novel, a strong indication that the music here is aimed at moving forward and making way for what’s to come, never settling or seeming happy with the end of a story. Buckner is interested in the evolution of relationships, not just romantic, but of all kinds. Jack Kerouac would be right at home in the world of this album’s picture show.

The tangible aspects of the CD are beautiful—the flashes of autumn color and dead leaves. The acoustic guitar and deep bass compliment Buckner’s voice predictably, but the strong drums, the elegant backing vocals, and the guest instruments, like the electric piano on “Window,” add the waterfalls, large boulders, and thrilling rapids that make any good trip down a river a thing to remember. This added dimension pulls “Meadow” away from some of the genres it might otherwise be grouped into, and helps establish Richard Buckner as not just a singer/songwriter, but also a real storyteller.

The longer you let “Meadow” recycle in your head, the clearer Buckner’s talent becomes, and the more you feel welcomed into the conversation he’s having. At some point the perspective changes from third person to second, and suddenly you’re reminiscing about those memories you at first did not share, but now recall with vivid immediacy.