When it comes to Americana as a genre, many of its purveyors offer a sense that they've lived through their collection. No matter the story form or execution, you often believe (or are plainly told) that what you're hearing or reading or seeing has been informed by their life experiences. Up close and personal.
But Richard Buckner doesn't do that. He's visitor, a watcher. A traveler who disappears into the world and returns to us with its story, not his. (Physically, he . . .
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