Richard Buckner

Meadow is the 8th full-length recording from Richard Buckner, and his second for Merge Records. Meadow marks the latest chapter in a story that began in San Francisco, back in the early 90’s, and has seen Buckner chase his muse across the U.S. and Canada many times. Buckner’s body of work has always seemed to be about motion vs. stillness: about the impulse to run away or towards something; or watching something/someone leave or approach. The restless energy of the heart, full speed ahead, the consequences taken and embraced, the good and the bad. The false starts, roadblocks and pitfalls along the way only add to the richness of the journey.

Meadow was recorded in and around Brooklyn, NY, where Richard now makes his home. It marks the auspicious reunion of Buckner and J.D. Foster, the man who produced Buckner classics Since, Devotion + Doubt and Impasse. The album was recorded in rather Spartan environs – Buckner’s apartment, JD’s hallway and an old abandoned pencil factory – where Richard seems to best tap his muse.

The album soars and swells around Buckner’s signature trifecta of enigmatic poetics, swirling melodies, and that voice – oh, that voice! - a soothing drawl that’s somehow haunting and soothing all at once.

The melodies on Meadow are fleshed out by band that reads like a collection of all-stars: Doug Gillard (Guided By Voices, Cobra Verde, solo); Kevin March (GBV, Those Bastard Souls, Dambuilders); JD Foster, and Steven Goulding (Mekons, Gram Parker, Waco Brothers). Buckner has always had a knack for surrounding himself with musicians who challenge him, and who bring a unique vision to each project. Doug Gillard’s guitar work is especially poignant here, seemingly the perfect foil as he and Buckner play off one another to add an element to the recordings that is refreshing and new.

Simply put, Meadow is Richard Buckner at his finest. One of our greatest songwriters adding to an already impressive canon. Fresh and evocative, poignant and real. Documenting “the modern age wrapped up in the frustrations and sympathies of a wanderer” (Austin Chronicle).