An Evening with Bruce Cockburn
Stuart’s Opera House
Nelsonville, OH
September 23, 2019

At 74, Canadian-born singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn hadn’t played in the Midwest of the U.S. consistently for quite some time. This year, with a new album of acoustic guitar instrumentals, Crowing Ignites, he has once again taken to the road, and for the first time his concert schedule had a date within a 3 hour drive, so I felt compelled to make the extra effort. I hate to be morbid, but as our musical heroes age, we don’t know how much longer we’ll have them with us, or how long they’ll be healthy and willing and able to take to the road. So, unless a concert is too far away to make it unreasonable, or tickets are too expensive, my rule is don’t miss seeing a musician you really care about.

With that in mind, I broke away a bit early from work to make 2 hour-plus drive to Nelsonville, OH, a lovely small town about 45 min. southeast of Columbus. Stuart’s Opera House is located on the public square in the middle of town, one of those great old buildings where the actual event space is upstairs, and I mean a long, tall set of stairs, with a lovely theater stage, comfortable seating and balcony, the whole place holding about 300 people. On this night, most of the seats were full, and most of the crowd appeared to be about my age – let’s just call that “mature” – and older. Which fit the artist, who appeared to have a bit of that older man’s stoop as he walked to the stage to warm, receptive applause.

A lovely desk sat at center of that stage, with a lamp perched upon it. As he picked up one of his four guitars, the white haired elder statesman seemed to lose a few decades. He leaned against a stool beside that desk, and began playing “Bardo Rush,” the opening track from Crowing Ignites. His fast finger-picking style gave the song a unique melodic sensibility that was both consistent with his near fifty years of composing, and yet still fresh. While tuning, Cockburn announced that the young man to his left was John Aaron Cockburn, without telling us this was his nephew. During the opening song, John Aaron’s accordion drew out a deep resonant drone that played against the bright guitar tones crafted by his uncle.

Barely waiting for the applause to subside, Cockburn began playing the familiar opening to “When You Give It Away.” When you think of Cockburn’s rich catalog of 23 singer / songwriter studio albums, often it’s the more potent political or deeply personal spiritual songs that come first to mind. Starting his show with this one was a reminder that his songs can also have a sense of humor about them. Here John Aaron’s accordion provided pitch perfect harmonic accompaniment to Bruce’s rich, full acoustic guitar, no doubt aided by the room’s natural acoustics.

While tuning before the next song, Cockburn mentioned the barely audible, low rumble that was coming through the P.A. He told us that as we heard that sound throughout the night we could think of it as our connection to the earth. He then mentioned the prophesy of the world’s end that surfaced in anticipation of Y2K and the hysteria that accompanied the arrival of a new millennium He then joked about that all happening before people got a look at the Aztec calendar and realized the end was to be in 2012, which led into “Last Night of the World.” This song includes the great lyric: “I’ve seen the flame of hope among the hopeless / And that was truly the greatest heartbreak of all / That was the straw that broke me open.” Ahh, a line like that can send a shudder of recognition through an audience that’s already leaning forward, hanging on each familiar word.

Next up was “Night Train,” a song where Cockburn’s guitar locks into the steady rhythm of a passing locomotive, with John Aaron putting down his accordion to provide subtle support on a second guitar and adding a lovely harmony vocal on the choruses. “World of Wonders,” the title track from his 1986 album followed, and for the first time I recognized a distinct echoing delay that chimed out from Cockburn’s guitar, an understated addition that had not been present previously. The song, which celebrates the wonder and beauty of the creation that sustains us, found Cockburn joking that “if this were church, this would be the point where they’d pass the collection baskets.”

There was a huge sigh of recognition throughout the intimate music hall, as Cockburn began playing what at the time of its release on 1984’s Stealing Firefelt like a slight bit of comic relief on a very serious album, responding to a very challenging political situation in Central America. The crowd responded joyfully to “(Who Put the Bullet Hole Through) Peggy’s Kitchen Wall,” and while some hummed along in the seats around me it failed to become the sing-along I remember from past performances. John Aaron’s accordion playing was again a perfect addition to the song’s texture, and his playing grew more intricate on “Café Society,” from his latest vocal album, Bone on Bone. Bruce took a lovely, more bluesy guitar solo against the supportive keyboard.

Cockburn then turned to his National Standard Steel guitar, the audience shouting with glee, as he began “Child of the Wind.” This one comes from his great T Bone Burnett produced album, Nothing but a Burning Light, and contains that great lyrical insight that “Little round planet in a big universe / Sometimes it looks blessed, sometimes it looks cursed / Depends on what you look at obviously / Even more it depends on the way that you see.” That album drew it’s title from a song by Blind Willie Johnson, who Cockburn described as “one the great street Gospel singers at the turn of the 20th century,” before offering up the new bluesy instrumental homage, titled “Blind Willie.” By way of explanation that you could find it on his latest collection of instrumentals, Cockburn struggled to find the right language for an audience that was likely full of folk who stream music track by track. He acknowledged, “I prefer to think of it as a CD” and then he realized he’d not dated himself enough, and corrected, saying, “I really prefer to think of it as an album.”

Offering one more song before breaking for an intermission, Cockburn explained that he had been seduced into writing a book; well, he added “if by seduced you mean offered a bourbon and made a suggestion.” That suggestion he explained was to write a “spiritual memoir.” Asked what exactly that was, Cockburn’s publisher admitted they didn’t know but had confidence he’d figure it out if he just wrote about his search for and relationship with the Divine. Cockburn then confessed that in the years it took him to complete the book, it required all of his creative energy and he didn’t write one song during that time, so after all that time he wasn’t so sure he was still a songwriter. What broke the ice, was an invitation to contribute a song for a film documentary about the Canadian poet, Al Purdy, whose work he described as “quintessentially Canadian, yet thoroughly universal.” In the song, “3 Al Purdy’s” Cockburn quotes interesting chunks from the poet’s work in his spoken voice, but sings his own chorus, where he says “I’ll give you 3 Al Purdy’s for a twenty dollar bill.” And then the two Cockburn’s took a 20 minute break.

Bruce returned solo from the intermission, and played another instrumental from his newest album, this one titled “April In Memphis.” Rejoined by John Aaron on accordion, he next picked up a small 12-stringed instrument called a charango, which is even smaller than a ukulele or mandolin. Its bright ringing sound was a perfect accompaniment for Cockburn’s “Bone In My Ear,” and in addition each time they reached the chorus, Bruce kicked a weight hanging down between a standard set of wind chimes, kicking them repeatedly to keep them ringing.

Picking up a full sized 12-string guitar, Bruce segued into the romantic “Look How Far (the Light Came),” the third song on this night from the Breakfast in New Orleans album. This one is really a song about grace, and the everyday gifts that surround us with beauty if we’re willing and able to see it. Here, John Aaron’s second guitar provided a nice bass line at the beginning but when they reached the middle section appropriate for a guitar solo, he played a lovely lead line, which made me curious about his own music, apart from that of his more famous uncle.

Returning to his latest singer / songwriter album, Bone On Bone, Cockburn played the faster rhythm of “Jesus Train,” a full-on Gospel song. Staying on the 12-string, he turned to one of his most controversial political songs, “Call It Democracy,” from World of Wonders, which along with the previous one, Stealing Fire, were the two highly political albums with the so-called “controversial” language that pretty much got Cockburn’s music pulled from the shelves of Christian book & music stores for the rest of his career. What struck me though, hearing Cockburn sing it with even more belligerent energy than I remember him delivering it back in 1986, is how relevant and poignant those lyrics remain. The great social and economic commentary wrapped into that strong poetic language so moved some of us that we gave Sir Cockburn a standing ovation at that point. Even though most of the room remained seated, it was perhaps the longest and loudest burst of applause during the night.

Going back to one of his 6-string guitars, Cockburn visited one of his more poignant themes, the spoiling of our planet that puts all future life at risk. In the verses of “False River,” Bruce’s beautiful words and humorous imagery (“A diamond-crusted pendant/In the shape of Bart Simpson”) describe the ecological degradation of an oil spill. It’s a beautiful piece of music, describing a very ugly reality.

And then, as if a gift from heaven, Cockburn began playing perhaps his most memorable guitar intro to “Wondering Where the Lions Are,” the song that seemed ever present on American pop radio in 1979. Bruce introduced it saying, “If you’re feeling regret for not singing out on ‘Peggy’s Kitchen Wall,’ here’s your chance to make up for it.” And we did sing along… the woman beside me at one point said that between Bruce’s voice, me singing on this side and her girlfriend on the other, she was loving all the harmony… It was a warm feeling shared likely by everyone in that room. Cockburn quickly dove into “If a Tree Falls,” another song of ecological concern, this one for the rainforest, and some of us in the room were still interested in singing along, so we did. With that, Cockburn ended his set.

Returning to encore, Bruce delivered another of the acoustic instrumentals from his Crowing Ignites album, this one the bluesy “The Groan,” with John Aaron supporting on accordion. The usual superlatives are inadequate to express how great it is to watch this consummate guitarist play. If you’re a fan of the intricacies of finger-picking and the delicate balances of melody and harmonic structures, he makes the instrument sing.

To end his concert, Cockburn played two more fan favorites, “See How I Miss You,” a fun song that always reminds me of T Bone Burnett’s song of similar subject and tone, “Having a Wonderful Time, Wish You Were Her.” And to close, he went all the way back to his 1974 album, Salt, Sun, and Time, for the sentimental description of his conversion to Christianity, “All the Diamonds,” where he sings of how he “ran aground in a harbor town / Lost the taste for being free / Thank God he sent some gull-shaped ship / To carry me to sea.”

On my long drive home, along the backroads through the small towns of Ohio making my way back to Dayton, I had a lot of time to reflect on Cockburn’s now nearly 50 year career, and I was grateful deep down for all the music, the poetry, the encouraging and challenging ideas, and that he’s still here, making music for his fans and friends.

Reviewed by Brian Quincy Newcomb