Daily Record 2/21/11: This Here Is Buck 65-Buck 65

In 1990s, 2000s, Canada, folk, hip hop, rap on February 21, 2011 at 7:30 pm

“Writing about music is like dancing about architecture,” said Elvis Costello/Laurie Anderson/Philip Glass/Leonard Cohen/Abraham Lincoln/James Ensor/Pauly Shore/Socrates (I’ve seen the quote attributed to everybody). If this is true, I’m grateful to the writers/dancers who occasionally, through the conviction of their writing/dancing, introduce me to new music to hear or a new building to appreciate.

Therefore, I think it is Philadelphia Inquirer music writer Dan DeLuca to whom I should tip my hat for introducing me to Nova Scotia-born rapper Buck 65. I’m pretty sure it was DeLuca who originally made me aware of today’s Daily Record, a 2005 compilation called This Here Is Buck 65. DeLuca made a good case for checking the album out, particularly the fact that it includes “Roses and Bluejays” a song that Buck 65 wrote about his father. In 2005, I was looking for songs about fathers and sons. Still am.

Born Richard Terfry, Buck 65 makes music that exists in a territory that the allmusic.com writer John Bush describes as the “neglected middle ground between underground rap, indie/electronic and country folk.” This sounds about right to me. The bottom line is that, while it is difficult to neatly compartmentalize his music,  Buck 65 is a compelling storyteller and uses an intriguing combination of musical genres to tell his tales.

My random selection of This Here Is Buck 65 as today’s Daily Record presents one of those fascinating (at least to me) and occasional synchronicities (or, using the word my friend Ed Masley coined, “coincinicities”) that lead me down certain interesting paths I otherwise would have missed. It happened like this:

In yesterday’s Philadelphia Inquirer, art critic Edward J. Sozanski wrote about a photography exhibit on the works of Robert Frank, a Swiss photographer who published an influential book of his photos called The Americans in the mid-1950s. I was very interested in the exhibit, especially when I discovered that a) the exhibit  is at the Berman Museum at Ursinus College, which is just up the road a piece from me, and b) the exhibit is free.

Then, this morning as I’m walking Jolie and listening to an uncredited “bonus track” on This Here Is Buck 65, Buck 65 very clearly sings/raps, “I was ruined by the road, Bob Dylan and Robert Frank.”

Now, really, how many songs on the many albums and CDs in my collection mention the name of the photographer that I read about just yesterday in the newspaper?

I’ll be going to the Robert Frank exhibit at my first opportunity.


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