Richard Buckner – Dead Men Talking
Regarding the pessimistic view that pervades the Anthology, it’s hard not to compare Masters to Buckner. Yet I couldn’t help but question the difference between the dark, despairing persona music critics persistently depict and the regularly fun-loving fellow I’ve known for five years.
“I have a good time,” Buckner agreed with a laugh. “It seems when I meet people who have actually given a thought about me before, it’s like, ‘Oh God, from what I’ve heard, I thought you’d be a complete dickhead.’ But it isn’t always like that, you know. We’re friends, and we’re talking and stuff; that’s different. I have my thoughts as to the world and life and all that, but I try not to inflict that on other people.
“I know how hard I am on a lot of things about my life, and life in general. And if somebody gets me going, I can get a little over-spirited sometimes. I have a lot of things I think about and wonder about all the time. There have been periods of my life when I couldn’t hold it in — there have been a lot of periods like that — and you deal with it in various ways. “But, right now, I am able to hold it in and not be a complete fuckface in public. Because it’s not just about insulting strangers. It’s also about fucking up your life and your relationships and people you care about. So you want to try to keep yourself under control as much as possible. Everybody works on that.”
Even as he continues to tour behind The Hill, Buckner has plans to release an album of all new material next spring, and he’s been working on a Calexico project that’s also scheduled for release next year. He credits Masters with giving him a fresh perspective on songwriting.
“The Hill was really good for me,” he said. “I was having a problem for a while. About a year and a half ago, I was working on songs, and I was a lot more concerned with the melodies and arrangements. That was more intriguing to me than writing the words. I was writing a lot, but somehow the two weren’t coming together. So I turned my attention to Spoon River and somehow it really opened me up again, so I could get back to my own songs and construct them from a different angle. I’ve got my first draft of all of the demos done, and I’m just screwing around with the words and keys and things like that.”
As to the rest of his future, especially the one he’s been building in Canada, Buckner is quite optimistic. He doesn’t see himself working at a bookstore again. But he does have a pretty good idea what kind of employment would suit a rambling, solitary singer-songwriter.
“I’m trying to get a yearlong work permit that will allow me to come and go a little bit easier. And I’m working with a lawyer right now so I can become what’s called a landed emigrant, which is an American living in Canada legally. That would give me the right to get my day job at Jiffy Lube up there. I need something where there’s no customer contact. I think pit boy at Jiffy Lube is the perfect job for me. I could learn about my truck and have no customer contact.”
Bob Townsend grew up in Ohio, graduated from college in Florida, and has lived in Georgia since 1986. He’s often really confused over which of his baseball caps — the Indians, Seminoles or Braves — is the most politically incorrect.