histrionics. The light touch of a nylonstring guitar or trill of a mandola infuses a track with sadness. But what's left unsaid within Buckner's lyrics pack just as strong a punch. Take the haunting "Song of 27": "I see her in the doorway, staring a hole through it all/The first of many fits, and the last one was, the last one was ..."
Nuance is key on Devotion and Doubt, both lyrically and sonically. In the violin-washed "Lil Wallet Picture," an old photograph vividly conjures lost love and youth ("You wild, bitter tale, all cherry, oak and tears"). Similarly effective is the chirping cricket captured on the eerie "On Traveling," along with Buckner's simple organ tones and Joey Burns' spooky bowed bass.
The energized exception to Devotion and Doubt's creeping, moody pace is the up-tempo "A Goodbye Rye," propelled by Marc Ribot's inspired Telecaster and Lloyd Maines' weepy pedal steel. Throughout the album, Giant Sand drummer John Convertino provides a percussive texture with his brushes, mallets and marimba. Producer J.D. Foster's restraint pays off, with Champ Hood's fiddle here, Maines' steel there, offering an affecting counterpoint to Buckner's unadorned intonations. Likewise, lovely instrumental interludes, like the delicate "Polly Waltz," pop up now and then, letting a little light into the proceedings. Overwhelmingly, though, Devotion and Doubt is dark music – best savored during late-night listenings. (RS 758)
HOLLY GEORGE-WARREN
Much of
Devotion is set in California's Central Valley, but Buckner's real destination isn't geographic. This album is a document of loss -- be it of dreams, a lover or a life. His fragmented lyrics and his rough-hewn voice impart the emotional wreckage felt by the desperate, lost and missing people in his songs.
