I walked by the entrance to the Belcourt Theater exactly 2 hours before show time. There was already one woman standing by herself, in line. I stopped to ask her if she were really standing in line already? Yes, she was. By the time I went across the street for a sandwich and cold one, a long line had stretched down the sidewalk. The young and rich Vanderbilt kids walked by and looked at all the gray hairs with bemusement.

In line, the chatter all centered around how rare it is that we get to have Bruce in our part of the world; remembrance of past shows, and the like. Soon, the doors opened and we all streamed in.

The Belcourt is a very small theater which holds less than 250 people. Initially, I was worried as there were less than 100 of us inside. Bruce's sound guy was playing some bizarre house music that ranged from contemporary and very mellow jazz to opera. I started talking with folks around me, taking some pictures of Bruce's stage setup, and soon the theater was nearly full.

The stage was set up with huge chimes on both sides of Bruce. Between the chimes, was a single wedge (stage monitor speaker) which I thought odd since Bruce uses IEM's (in ear monitors). Later, I would figure that the wedge was there for when Colin would join Bruce.

His main mic was centered, with another mic over the dulcimer mounted up high on a modified piano stand. In between was his array of guitars. Both green Manzers, the National Steel, a 12 string, and another 6 string. He has a large rack of gear all lit up behind him that he never touches. He uses the top for his drink, capos and such. Sound was pretty good. Bruce had brought his own sound guy/guitar tech, and his own complete sound system. I went back to admire the sound gear which was all very good equipment. I won't talk more about it since I know that nobody here cares about such. There were 2 mics onstage pointed towards the audience so I was thinking that they might be recording the show. I checked all the sound gear and did not see any recording devices. An old time hippy sound engineer approached me as he'd also been back there to check out the gear. He figured out that the audience mics were so that Bruce can hear the audience during performance. Brilliant!

20 minutes past the 8PM start time, the audience was getting a bit restless and started clapping. The sound guy was still tweaking Bruce's guitars, but when I saw him exit the stage and walk back towards the sound board, I told everyone around me that it was show time, and it was! The lights dimmed.

Bruce walked out unannounced to a fairly enthusiastic greeting. It takes a lot to impress a Nashville audience. Many of the people in the house are great musicians, sound engineers and music industry folks. Bruce seemed to be a little rusty perhaps from some time off. He missed a chord or two, forgot a line in Each One Lost, and struggled a bit with some of the high notes when singing. But as the show went on and he warmed-up, he got in the groove.

We got nearly a 2 hour show, not including the VERY long intermission. So long, that the couple next to me walked to one of the restaurants, ate, and made it back before Bruce started the 2nd set. Before the show, when I was back at the sound board area, Colin Linden walked in with his wife. I said hello and shook hands with him, and he intro'd me to his wife before they took their seats. During the 2nd set, Bruce would invite him up twice; initially for a stunning version of 5:51, and then for the encores.

There was clearly a chemistry and joy between the two men that can only come from many, many years of friendship and music together. I have some nice pictures, a few of which are already up on FaceBook. I'll try to put some into the files section of Humans if I'm able, or share them in some other way. There are a few that I know all of you would really enjoy seeing. [Editor note: All of Ramcey's photos are up on the CockburnProject's Facebook page.]

Bruce came out into the lobby where a long line had formed to meet him and get things signed. I have many autographs from Bruce and have met him numerous times, so I just stood there talking with friends and watching the activities for a few minutes absorbing the last of the good vibes before heading out the door into the cool Nashville night and driving out to the hills.

--------------- 1st Set
1 Last Night of the World
2 Lovers in a Dangerous Time
3 Child of the Wind
4 Bohemian 3-Step
5 When You Give It Away
6 Iris of the World
7 Strange Waters
8 Boundless
9 Arrows of Light

--------------- 2nd Set
1 Lord of the Starfields
2 Pacing the Cage
3 Called Me Back
4 Five Fifty-One
5 Put It In Your Heart
6 Each One Lost
7 Wondering Where the Lions Are
8 If a Tree Falls

-------------- Encore
1 God Bless the Children
2 All the Diamonds
3 Gifts

(Bruce had "Comets written on his set list for the encore but chose not to do it since he invited Colin up to finish the show with him).

Thanks for making it down "South", Bruce. Go get 'em in Atlanta tonight.........Ramcey Rodriguez

There are also some YouTube videos from this show, you can search from here.

~ bobbi wisby

13 July 2011 - In elementary school, Bruce Cockburn remembers a teacher wishing upon her class that they all grow up to be "radicals," a person intent on forcing change by uncompromising methods.

The future folk-rock singer-songwriter doesn’t known how that might’ve affected his desire to make a difference in the world, but in the 1980s — after the release of his hit single If I Had A Rocket Launcher — the Canadian became known as an outspoken political activist and hasn’t wavered in his firm stance against war-mongering, environmental damage, and various injustice.

His latest album, his 31st, Small Source of Comfort, has a couple of issue-oriented songs, the comical Call Me Rose about Richard Nixon getting reincarnated as a single mother living in the projects; and the somber tribute Each One Lost written after his trip to Afghanistan where he witnessed the ramp ceremony for two fallen Canadian soldiers.

Samaritanmag.com talked to Cockburn about landmines, finding a cause, and music’s power.

Have you seen changes come about in the causes you’ve supported over the years?

"How can I answer that backwards? Yes, I’ve seen changes. There have been changes. The landmine issue, for instance, was probably the most dramatic example of that where the campaign went from being very low-voiced murmuring to being this groundswell and then, ultimately, producing a treaty [The Ottawa Treaty or Anti-Personnel Lane Mine Treaty in 1997], to which most of the countries in the world are signatory, banning the manufacturing and use of landmines. It’s not a complete victory because there are some major holdouts there, including the U.S. and Russia and China."

How many landmines are estimated to still be buried out there?

"I don’t actually know current numbers, but there’s lots of them and they are still in use in places. They are, unfortunately, a relatively cheap and convenient weapon for certain kinds of warfare. The problem is, well, somebody invented them in the first place, but since the Second World War really, the wars that have gone on in the world have mostly been internal, not very often between countries; there have been a couple of international like Iran-Iraq and so on, but most of the wars that have taken place have been civil wars. So the old concept of putting mines along your border and then putting up a sign that says, ‘Don’t Step Here,’ — which was kind of how it was in the Second World War and elsewhere — it’s indiscriminate use of mines and increasingly over time, as a terror weapon. It’s a brutal presence in the landscape."

"In those limited civil war situations, there’s still continuing use of them and those wars are not signatory to the treaty; they’re just independent operators, warlords and whatnot. So they’ll use whatever they can get, landmines. Of course, what have become noticed as an even cheaper and effective weapon in the hands of those kinds of operators is child soldiers. That’s another whole thing that’s a bit more on everybody’s radar at the moment, but then, to me, that’s an example of a campaign that did produce some noticeable results."

We don’t hear about the landmines issue in the media as much as we did a decade or more ago. Is the issue as important a cause as it once was?

"It’s as important to the people that are threatened by them and it’s important enough to keep on the trying. It’s just that a lot of the people that were working on getting the U.S. for instance to sign on, there was a strong campaign to do that and all of a sudden 9/11 happened and the U.S. is in a war and it’s not going to stop and it’s not going to give up any weapons."

Has the treaty been presented to the Obama regime?

"I don’t know what’s been presented, but I doubt that’s anybody’s going to be very successful being heard with that kind of a campaign at this stage. When the American public is sufficiently tired of bleeding and they pull out their troops, then we might get a resurgence of interest in that. But in the meantime, there’s no end to these kind of issues coming up. For me, the big point is that it’s all one issue. It manifests in different ways, but whether you’re talking about industrial pollution or water rights or any of the humanitarian disasters that are exacerbated by poverty, all of these things are verification. You can go around the globe and pick out manifestations of what is essentially one issue, which is the way that we relate to the planet and each other and who are we in the system that we’re in."

Were you politically and socially aware before you started writing songs and became a professional musician?

"Yes, to a degree, before; politically aware before that. From my teens, we were all brought up to read the news and pay attention to what’s going on although in a very liberal atmosphere, where you weren’t expected to do anything about anything other than vote."

"I had a public school teacher who we always had show and tell, a current events thing at the beginning of the day. This was grade three or four or something like that. You’d bring in a news clipping and read it to the class and then talk about it. Somebody brought in a newspaper clipping abut rioting by student radicals in Turkey. This was in the ‘50s. So the teacher said, ‘What’s a radical?’ and none of us knew what a radical was. ‘A radical is someone who wants to make the world better by forcing change, where it needs to be changed.’ And then she said, ‘I hope you all grow up to be radicals.’ Imagine saying that in the ‘50s? Even in Canada, we weren’t under the same kind of fear of communism that’s the States was, but it wasn’t the time to be talking like that [laughs] and yet that’s what she said to us in class and it never went away. That teacher was one who I found particularly scary and did not empathize with her at all, but I remembered her saying that and I respected her. Anyway, I don’t know how much of an affect that had in the long run, but hearing an authority figure say that at an early age might have mattered."

For young people who want to find a cause to support, can you recommend how they can find one that speaks to them, that they can fully understand and articulate?

"You can’t understand it without gathering as much information as you can about it. If you see something that bothers you in the world a little bit in your heart, do everything you can to find out about it. The means are there, especially the age we live in. You can go online and find out perhaps slightly suspect information about anything, and then you have to sift through what’s real and what isn’t. If you want to know what’s going on in the Middle East, don’t just take the world of FOX TV. Go to Al Jazeera online or whatever. Get all the points of view and then you can make sense of what’s happening. Not enough people do that. So if you have the energery while you’re young to start that, great."

Do you agree with your friend Neil Young when he said that music doesn’t have the power to change the world anymore?

"I never thought it did. I must have been ahead of him (laughs). It always seemed to be that what music does is accompany what goes on. There is a place for music in political change for sure, but that place is created by a body of popular feeling that is going to respond to a song. If you don’t have that, then the song isn’t going to create that. If you’re an Egyptian in Alexandria, and you’re looking around at how much everything sucks and somebody comes along with a song that goes, ‘Everything sucks,’ you’re going to feel empowered by that and it might give you the energy you need to eventually making a change yourself."

~ from The SamaritanMag- by Karen Bliss

27 June 2011 - As Bruce continues touring to promote his 31st album release, Small Source of Comfort, I, once again had the great pleasure of seeing // hearing Bruce and Jenny play a fabulous set of music. I saw them with Gary Craig on drums at the Uptown Theater in Napa on June 2.

The Kate Wolf Festival is a 3 day /night camping music festival. This year the temps were in the 80's with Sunday being the hottest day. This show had been promoted as a solo show, but a few days earlier I heard Jenny was going to be playing as well. And as it should be, Jenny grew up just a couple hours drive from the venue, you could say it was a family affair for her to be playing so close to home. And she did have the crowd in her pocket.

Sometime around mid-afternoon, (very hot) Bruce and Jenny did a short short sound check. The stage was full of people including the Festivals Childrens Grateful Parade with Wavy Gravy MC-ing. We heard a bit of Last Night of the World, Jenny's song, Littlest Prisoner, Iris of the World and Put It In Your Heart.

Their set started at 7:40pm. The sun was just going down behind the trees and stage (thankfully), and the lighting was great. Wavy Gravy gave Bruce a wonderful introduction, and they started into Last Night of the World, but stopped as Bruce's capo was placed wrong.. once fixed they took off.

One of the things that really stand out for me watching Bruce and Jenny perform together, is the great feeling of joy that seems to pass over him as she plays. They have great synergy.

Here's the setlist:
Last Night of the World
Mango
Lovers In A Dangerous Time
Iris of the World
Strange Waters
Boundless

Bruce tells the story of meeting Wavy Gravy in South Dakota many many years ago at a rally or concert supporting or surrounding the Wounded Knee incidents. (again wish I had a recording)

Parnassus and Fog
Call Me Rose
Littlest Prisoner - Jenny's song
If A Tree Falls
Wondering Where the Lions Are
Arrows of Light


Then the Wailing Jenny's joined them onstage for Put It In Your Heart and Waiting For A Miracle. Just before Waiting For a Miracle, Bruce says, "I don't know about you guys (to the audience), but "I'm having fun."

There was no encore as the schedule didn't allow any time for it :( althought the crowd did try to bring him back.

My friend and local photographer Kim Sallaway provided most of the photos above. Big Thanks to him!

I have more photos and some video up at my blog OnMyBeat.net ~ bobbi wisby.
Update : 4 July 2011 - I have added another whole page full of Kim Sallaway's photos.... go check it out!

~ by bobbi wisby

22 June 2011 -

Bruce Cockburn is now in his fourth decade of playing music for fans, and yet he's still not weary of being on the road.

In fact, during a recent phone interview from a tour stop in Portland, Ore., Cockburn called himself a nomad at heart. "I think that's what feels like home, you know," he said with a chuckle.

"I love being on the road. I do like it more when I'm with people, not so much solo. There's a lot of camaraderie and musical exchanges that happen, and the shows are really enjoyable."

For his show on June 25 at John Ascuaga's Nugget, Cockburn (pronounced KO-burn) will be joined by violinist/singer Jenny Schienman, who is featured throughout the new album. He has been touring with a drummer, Gary Craig, but he isn't able to be at the Sparks show.

"It's been fantastic touring with the two of them," Cockburn said. "I've done some shows with Jenny before, just some little things in little places, so it will be fun but kind of odd for us, since we've played 40-odd shows as a trio. But, Jenny and I have a chemistry between us that everybody notices, and it makes for really nice stuff to happen."

Fans should expect a wide range of songs as well -- Cockburn and Scheinman know about 40 songs, and Cockburn said he still plays another 10-20 for solo shows.

"That about as many as I can retain in my head at once," he said. "There has been some turnover of songs as times goes one, especially with the older songs. I'm always more interested in playing the newer songs, of course, just because they are new. But there are certain songs that people always want to hear, so it's a combination of old and new."

A native of Pembroke, Ontario, Canada, Cockburn released his self-titled debut in 1970. It wasn't until 1979, though, that he has some chart success across the border, as Wondering Where the Lions Are became a top 20 hit. Two of Cockburn's '80s songs -- If I Had A Rocket Launcher and Lovers In a Dangerous Time -- eventually became staples on adult alternative radio.

His latest album is called Small Source of Comfort. Cockburn laughed heartily when asked if it blew his mind that "Comfort" was his 31st album.

"It was mind-blowing in a way, yeah," he said. "I got over it, but you think about it and that’s a lot of time, a lot of words going by. But, I don’t spend a lot of time going over that fact."

Cockburn is also a skilled guitar player, a fact borne out by the inclusion of five instrumentals on "Comfort." That's a record-number of vocal-less songs for a Cockburn album -- with his 2005 all-instrumental Speechless CD as a notable exception -- although he has placed some on records since the beginning of his career.

He said the large number this time was just happenstance. "It's mostly the fact that when we were doing vinyl records, they had not been put on there because they couldn't all fit," Cockburn said. "If I picked something to take off the album, it likely would have been an instrumental. Now that we are filling up an hour of music, basically, there is the option to put things on."

The album also features several songs that address war. Although having a song about a topical subject is nothing new for Cockburn, before these songs were written he visited soldiers in Afghanistan, a trip he said gave him more perspective from the soldiers' point of view.

"To be there, they have to believe in it, otherwise they would go crazy, so I was taking into account their position from their own minds," Cockburn said. "I thought it was a kind of mortality-based position, and I think they had the feeling that they could actually win it if they had enough time. That might be true, but I can't believe that based on history. But I have to respect that, because they see it up close every day. So, you have to take that opinion seriously."

Cockburn added that he came away "with a tremendous respect for the soldiers and an affection for them. I was feeling that already before I went there, but I feel like these are my kids. They are the age of my daughter, and younger, so I really cared about their well-being."

One of Cockburn’s more distinctive musical signatures over the decades is his blend of the personal and the topical, sometimes within the same song. He said that he’s not concerned with getting a message out in his music, though.

"I want to create something that has some power to it, and has the ability to touch people, at least to the best of my ability,” he said. “But in terms of messages, I just write what’s in my heart. There’s not a concept. It’s more about the feeling you get hearing it. It’s really all the same to me, whether I’m writing a love song or something that’s more connected to a social issue. It’s coming from the same place."

Who: Bruce Cockburn
When: 8 p.m. June 25
Where: Celebrity Showroom at John Ascuaga’s Nugget
Cost: $20
Details: 775-356-3300 or www.janugget.com

~from RGJ.com, article by Mark Earnest.

16 May 2011 -

Bruce Cockburn is a man of many talents — and passions. He’s always been very politically conscious and has a long history of social activism, and his thoughts on social and political issues have consistently made their way into his songs.

He’s also an extremely accomplished guitarist, so his albums and performances have also showcased his nimble, intricate guitar runs. He especially likes picking up an acoustic guitar and channeling his early country-blues influences — Mance Lipscomb, Mississippi John Hurt and Big Bill Broonzy.

Those elements, among others, are in abundance on his current release, Small Source of Comfort, which is his first studio album in five years. (He released a double-live disc a couple of years ago. [Slice O' Life] .

Five of the songs are the album are instrumentals, allowing Cockburn, a native Canadian, to showcase his fretboard and finger-picking dexterity. But they’re not solo-guitar workouts. Instead, he and his bandmates attain intriguing synergies that in some cases draw on other styles, especially those tracks that involve an interplay between Cockburn’s guitar and the violin of Jenny Scheinman, who’s known for her work with Bill Frisell and Norah Jones, among others. Scheinman is part of Cockburn's touring trio, and she also serves as solo opening act for this week's shows.

On some of those efforts, the result is something like chamber-folk-rock, with Scheinman delivering a mournful counterpoint to Cockburn’s percussive guitar grooves. Elsewhere, Bohemian 3-Step, is cinematic and atmospheric, but still rhythmic. On Comets of Kandahar, meanwhile, they create something akin to gypsy-swing jazz, and Lois on the Autobahn — a tribute to Cockburn’s mother, who died last August - is flowing and lyrical.

"After we recorded that one, it just sounded like it had to do with driving," says Cockburn, who comes to The Ark for a sold-out two-night stand, Thursday and Friday. "It had a ‘cruising’ quality about it, and my mom died between the time we recorded it and the time we titled it, and I wanted something on the record to be a tribute to her, so I came up with that title."

Comets of Kandahar was inspired by Cockburn’s visit to that Afghan city as part of the volunteer work he does for humanitarian groups in war-ravaged countries. His brother, a doctor, has spent the last few years as a physician for the Canadian army. "He was stationed there, at an air base, and there were a lot of planes taking off and landing," says Cockburn by phone from a tour stop in Annapolis, Maryland.

"And the runway had to be dark, because it’s a battle zone, so when the planes would take off, you could only see this incandescent flame coming out of the end — the most precious color of purple you can imagine. They looked like comets, hence the title."

Another new song inspired by his visit to the Middle East is Each One Lost, which he wrote after witnessing a military ceremony honoring two young Canadian Forces soldiers — who had just been killed that day — before their coffins were flown back to Ontario. "There was a recording of bagpipes playing, and prayers were said - it was very somber and deeply moving, and it made me want to write again about the human cost of war." In the song, he sings, in his sonorous baritone, "Each one lost is everyone’s loss, you see / Each one lost is a vital part of you and me."

Cockburn’s instinct for political commentary takes a very different tone on Call Me Rose — a tune in which Cockburn imagines Richard Nixon reincarnated as a low-income single mother who lives in the projects.

"I woke up one morning, and that first line — ‘My name is Richard Nixon, only now I’m a girl’ — just came to me, and then the rest of the song came to me, almost all at once," says Cockburn with a laugh. "This was during that period of the Bush presidency when they had this campaign to rehabilitate Nixon’s image, and there were these conservative pundits on TV trying to sell us this bulls---, and then after a while, it just stopped."

To Cockburn, the song is about redemption — Nixon gets a chance to redeem himself. But it’s also "a commentary on power and the abuse of it, and about how it’s important for those in power to remember who their choices affect, and for them to think for a while about what it might be like to be poor, and powerless."

In retrospect, from a progressive’s point of view, Nixon doesn’t look so bad compared to, say, Ronald Reagan — so why not a song about Reagan, as opposed to Nixon, coming back as a low-income single mom?

"I don’t know," says Cockburn. "It was Nixon’s name that came to me in that first line, and in the song. I didn’t choose him — he chose me," he adds with a laugh.

When I interviewed Cockburn, it was the day after the Canadian election, when Canada’s conservative prime minister Stephen Harper had won a Conservative majority of seats in the Parliament for the first time. In that election, the Liberal party did poorly. The upshot is that there will now be almost no resistance to the conservatives ramming their agenda through the Parliament. So, Cockburn was still lamenting the implications of those results.

"In Canada, the conservatives aren’t as far right as they are in the U.S. — they’re closer to the center, relatively speaking — but they’re still the big-business party," says Cockburn. "They’re very enamored by what the Republicans are doing in the States. Harper is totally in bed with big business, and wants to privatize everything, cut taxes on corporations, and they're going to try very hard to kill Canada’s national health care system, even though it’s a great system that works just fine.

"They for the privatization of all of these services, to benefit big business — and then just f--- everybody else. And they’re doing it all under the pretext of trying to control the deficit, just like in the States. It’s all just meaningless ideological baloney."

~from Ann Arbor.com, by Kevin Ransom Freelance Entertainment Writer, 16 May 2011. Kevin Ransom, a free-lance writer who covers music for AnnArbor.com, first interviewed Bruce Cockburn in 1991, for the Ann Arbor News. He can be reached at KevinRansom10@aol.com.

12 May 2011 -

A recent press release issued on Bruce Cockburn’s new album really caught my attention because it mentioned his mother:

"Bruce Cockburn has always been a restless spirit. Over the course of four decades, the celebrated Canadian artist has traveled to the corners of the earth out of humanitarian concerns—often to trouble spots experiencing events that have led to some of his most memorable songs. Going up against chaos, even if it involves grave risks, can be necessary to get closer to the truth.

'My mother once said that I must have a death wish, always going to what she called ‘those awful places," laughs Cockburn. 'I don’t think of it that way. I make these trips partly because I want to see things for myself and partly out of my own sense of adventure.'"

So I had the opportunity to speak with Bruce a couple weeks ago, about his new album, Small Source of Comfort, and my first question was about his mother.

Bruce Cockburn on his parents:

- His mother died last summer at 88. Up until 87 she was playing tennis and curling. On curling, Bruce said, "I never wanted to do it but she tried hard to get me to."

Cockburn’s mom and dad played piano and his father still does: "He would play by ear in the key of F. 30s and 40s tunes he grew up with. He was stuck in the key of F. My mother would play piano but she played light classical pieces. She only played from the music. Between the two of them, they definitely were musical in their own way. When I was really little, we used to sing together in the car. As we got to be more numerous and older, my parents tried singing and we’d be groaning in the back seat. After a while, they just gave up. They were very supportive of my attempts at music. It was my mum really who kept pushing me. I started guitar at 14. I just saw myself as a guitar playe. I couldn’t imagine myself as a singer. She said, "You know, people who play guitar sing."

On Gifts, from his new album, Small Source of Comfort, which Cockburn wrote years ago but dusted off for his latest release, he said, "There are a wholel lot of songs sitting around I wrote in the 60s that I hope no one gets to hear."

The first song Bruce remembers writing, is, It’s Not You Who’s Leaving Cause Baby I’m Heaving You Out.

He said it was typical of 1964 but added, "It’s not a very good one."

~from Poughkeepsiejournal.com, by John Barry. 12 May 2011.

5 May 2011 -

Bruce Cockburn poses with his forthcoming stamp, which will be issued June 30. (Canada Post)

Canadians might find Bruce Cockburn in their mailbox this summer, following Canada Post's announcement of a new stamp featuring the celebrated singer-songwriter.

Canada Post said Thursday that a stamp honouring Cockburn will be issued on June 30 as part of the third instalment of its Canadian Recording Artists series.

His stamp will join the previously announced stamps of Kate and Anna McGarrigle, Robbie Robertson and Ginette Reno.

The series will be issued June 30.

"This is very exciting," the Ottawa-born Cockburn said in a statement.

The stamp's design — a black and white image of him against a red background featuring titles of his hit songs — is "beautiful," he added.

Over the years, the folk-rock singer and activist has won multiple awards for his music, which includes hits such as The Coldest Night of the Year and If I Had a Rocket Launcher. His original songs have inspired covers by a wide range of artists — from Jimmy Buffett to the Barenaked Ladies.

He released his 31st album, Small Source of Comfort, in March and is currently touring the U.S. Cockburn, who is also an officer of the Order of Canada and member of the Canadian Music Hall of Fame, is slated to publish his memoir in April 2012.

Article from CBC News, via Bernie Finkelstein.

4 May 2011 - Bruce Cockburn, who is playing at 7:30 p.m. Saturday at the Egg in Albany, was totally shocked when his song If I Had a Rocket Launcher became a hit in 1984. Inspired by a visit to Guatemalan refugee camps in Mexico that were attacked before and after his visit, the song ends with the line, "If I had a rocket launcher, some son of a bitch would die."

"It (seemed) totally impossible to me that anybody would put that on the radio, and then all of a sudden there it was all over the place. It helped me get an audience in the states that I didn’t have prior to that," said the Canadian singer/songwriter/ guitarist who has just released his 31st studio LP, Small Source of Comfort.

Cockburn is almost as ubiquitous in Canada as Dylan is here. The winner of 13 Juno Awards (Canada’s Grammy), an officer in the Order of Canada, and a member of the Canadian Music Hall of Fame, he is known for his oblique and sometimes somber songwriting style. "Rocket Launcher" is certainly not typical of his style, which runs from acoustic folk to electric. The new LP, getting deservedly rave reviews, finds him reflective, sometimes funny and quirky as in Call Me Rose written from the perspective of Richard Nixon reincarnated as a single mother of two living in the projects.

"Maybe it matters to have my thoughts on a page that are different from the songs people are used to," Cockburn said about his memoirs due out in April of next year. He’s having an internal struggle as he tries to get into the actual writing. "Is it really worth doing this and do I really want to take out of the songs the mystery that people feel and reduce it to a reality that’s boring to everyone? Is it like maybe the mystery is better?"

He’d been asked about having an authorized biography written when he was in his 40s and 50s, but it was easy then to say that he hadn’t done enough. But now, at 65, he’s committed, and the task is staring him in the face. "I’ve been very slack about getting it together. I have to say, I’m kind of wrestling myself with that one. I mean, I’m obliged to do it because I signed a contract, and when the part of my mind that likes the idea is dominant, then I’m into it, but a lot of the time I’m saying to myself, I don’t know if there needs to be a book like this. It doesn’t make sense. So I have to fight myself all the time to get myself to work on it, and eventually it will get done."

It must be daunting for a man who has spent more than 40 years writing cryptic three-minute songs to suddenly commit to a long form analysis of the thought processes that go into those little gems. In the song Five Fifty-One for example, he sings about "diesel in the breeze" and "middle of the night cops came knocking on my door."

The images come out of a real experience he had at his girlfriend’s apartment in Brooklyn. "If it isn’t at least close to being your experience then you shouldn’t be writing about it at all unless you’re just asking questions in your song," he said. "If the job is to tell the truth, then you’re supposed to know what the truth is."

Cockburn has removed the self-imposed filter he put on his emotions as a writer when, in 1968, he wrote Gifts where he sings: "We may walk within these walls and share our gifts with you."

"Within myself there were self-imposed restrictions that were not even conscious in the beginning. Sometimes there’re feelings you don’t share. Sometimes there are things you don’t look at too closely. So all these sorts of judgments that young people have are more prone to and most of us hopefully lose as we get older, but I allow myself more freedom than I did in the beginning."

On Boundless a song he co-wrote with Annabelle Chvostek, he sings, "All I wanted all along is to be the ‘you’ in somebody’s song.’ "

"It’s true when you think about it. What do we want from being alive? We want to be loved, and we want not to be lonely, and we want to feel like we mean something. So (the song) is just saying that, in effect. Every time I hear a songwriter, particularly a female songwriter who impresses me, I want to be the ‘you’ in their song."

Bruce Cockburn will perform Saturday at The Egg in Albany. Tickets ae available online at www.theegg.org or call 473-1845. Tickets are $34.50 and $29.50.

From ~The Saratogian, by Don Wilcock, 4 May 2011.

13 April 2011

14 April 2011

13 April 2011 - Before he began writing the songs that would eventually comprise his latest album, Small Source of Comfort, Canadian folk rocker Bruce Cockburn -- the author of such classic tunes as If I Had a Rocket Launcher and Wondering Where the Lions Are -- toyed with the idea of completely reinventing himself as an artist. No more would faithful fans hear the Bruce Cockburn they had come to know and love over 23 albums, released over a career spanning more than 40 years. That's because Cockburn decided it was time to change things up.

"After the last album (2006's Life Short Call Now), I thought it would be really nice to change direction," says Cockburn, who will take the stage at The Egg in Albany on May 7. "I was feeling like I wanted to make some real noise, and get out there with majorly-distorted electric guitar and have a noise band, because I like that kind of stuff, bands like Sunn O))) (an overwhelming experimental noise band from Seattle). It just felt like it was time to be loud."

But despite his best intentions, Cockburn ended up writing and recording an album that sounds more like the material he released during the 1970s, perhaps the most prolific decade of the man's career. "I spent most of my time traveling on my own, and wasn't at my house very much," Cockburn says. He was splitting his time between San Francisco and New York City, living in small apartments. "You can't make that kind of music in an apartment without a lynching by your neighbors, so I ended up always bringing an acoustic guitar with me everywhere, and all of the songs were written that way, so ... "

The end result is one of Cockburn's folkiest efforts in years and marks a period of fruitful collaboration for Bruce. "It's pretty much all acoustic, with drums and bass and stuff, and while it sounds like something I would've released in the '70s, the lyrical content doesn't sound like the '70s, particularly," says Cockburn. "I'm very happy with how it came out, and one of the neat things about it, for me -- and I hope other people will feel this way -- is that there's this jazz violinist named Jenny Scheinman and she plays on the record and will be in the touring band also."

Bruce not only works on the new album with Scheinman -- who has appeared on albums by artists including Ani DiFranco and Lucinda Williams -- but also with Annabelle Chvostek, a former member of the Wailin' Jennys. Cockburn and Chvostek co-wrote two songs on the album and the duo performs a duet.

"She has a terrific musical mind," enthuses the 65-year-old folk rocker, who has had a rather unique and -- ultimately -- eventful career that's been going strong since he struck out on his own. Cockburn launched his solo career in the late 1960s, after being in or working with several Canadian rock bands including The Children, 3's A Crowd, and Olivus. The latter opened for The Jimi Hendrix Experience and Cream.

"It was quite an experience and Jimi was amazing," Cockburn says. "There's actually a review from the Montreal Gazette, and this is a case where someone was surely hallucinating, because it said something like, 'If it hadn't been that they were opening for Hendrix, we would have stolen the show.' I know he was hallucinating because I know it wasn't that good. But Hendrix was memorable."

On May 7, Cockburn promises an intimate affair at The Egg, with the evening's set divided equally between new material and the songs from Cockburn's extensive catalogue.

"I remember the first time I met Ani DiFranco at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival," says Cockburn. "I had read about Ani but I had never heard her. I went to hear her play, and it was jaw-dropping. I couldn't believe I was hearing such good stuff. I started to think, because there's a fairly large age difference there, and I'm thinking, 'Us old guys should shut up and get out of the way, and let these kids get at it,' because it was so good."

For her finale, DiFranco actually performed one of Bruce's songs, Mama Just Wants to Barrelhouse All Night Long. "I don't know what made her do that song, other than the fact she knew I was there, but it just was the loveliest thing to offset that feeling of having kind of lived past my time in a way," he says. "It made a pretty big impression on me."

Cockburn -- who was made a Member of the Order of Canada in 1982, an honor he notes is "particularly meaningful" -- says he will continue to make music as long as fans still want to hear what he has to say. But he may be well into his 70s by the time another record's ready for consumption.

"I don't write as much as I used to, partly because I am getting old and partly because I have been around so long. I've just kind of said a lot of what I have to say," Cockburn says. "To think of a new thing to say or a new way to say something ... it takes longer than it used to."

Bruce Cockburn plays at The Egg on May 7 at 7:30 p.m. Tickets are $34.50, $29.50, $24.50. Visit www.theegg.org for information.

From~ The Times Union, by Chris Harris/Explore, 13 April 2011.

8 April 2011 - Murray Harrison, a long time Human, gives his impressions of the 5 April 2011 - Burton Cummings Theatre - Winnipeg, MB, Canada show.

This show rated pretty well among the 27 Bruce shows I've seen since 1980, though it does help obviously in enhancing your enjoyment when you get lucky enough to be in front row centre. I have to say I do like the new CD [Small Source of Comfort]. Other than maybe only one or two tracks, overall I like the writing, sensitivity and instrumentation arrangement, and the fact it has 5 instrumentals makes it unique in that respect, with the instrumentals all being stellar pieces, in my opinion.

I can't be as complimentary about the venue though. Quite shabby -- I'd never been to the Burton Cummings Theatre. I was unfamiliar with this place until I realized it was the former Walker Theatre, and before that an Odeon movie theatre. We are in flood watch season here in Manitoba, and I also had to deal with the flood of beer which the guy behind me kept spilling under my seat where I'd stored my bag of Bruce items for signing. Thankfully I discovered the beer river in time before my entire bag was soaked. I could have used some floodway protection.

I was recalling the 1997 Charity tour in which I also had front row centre seats at a better venue here, at the same time of year when that monumental flood came, and Bruce had donated half the show's take to flood relief. And I was feeling nostalgic also at being at my first Winnipeg Bruce show since moving back from Ontario after being away six years. If I hope to reach 30 shows, I'll probably have to go out of province since some of the tours seem to bypass Winnipeg. Someone told me the show was not a sellout (970), and that previous years' shows had not been either. I really hope the next time is at a better venue. I don't know if this place was booked out of choice, or because a better venue was not available.

However, an upside was that the staff didn't seem to care that I took about 16 pictures from a prime location and wound up with some pretty good shots, whereas in my experience most places monitor this closely and prevent it.

The set:
1. Last Night of the World
2. Mango - - included a long violin solo, which accentuated the presentation significantly. Jenny added a lot to this show on several songs, filling things out with great atmosphere. Occasionally, I kept thinking of Hugh Marsh in the 80s. Some of those violin strains just produced that nostalgia.
3. Lovers in a Dangerous Time - - I have heard this so many times, in various arrangements, and yet this time it sounded noticeably different because of the violin and whatever it was Gary Craig was doing on percussion.
4. Tokyo
5. 5:51 [Five Fifty One] - - (12 string). Excellent. One of my faves of the night. Good violin solo, great percussion and band instrumental. Some nice punch on this.
6. Call Me Rose (12 string)
7. Put It in Your Heart (12 str) - - searing violin solo.
8. Bone in My Ear - - (charango, the 10-string instrument he first used on Lily of the Midnight Sky on the '86 WOW [ World of Wonders tour). Again, very nice violin, really embellished the song, making it extra bittersweet, with beautiful atmosphere. This may be the best version of this tune I've heard - - in my opinion, it may top its original appearance on the '94 [ Dart to the Heart tour.
9. Driving Away (6 str) - - just tugs at your heart, this one, moreso for me also because it's new.
10. Boundless (6 str, chimes) - - another good violin section.
11. Albert - - Jenny's song, a group instrumental, including chimes.
12. The Littlest Prisoner - - a foot stompin' tune sung by Jenny. About as close as some bellowing crowd members repeatedly calling for Peggy's Kitchen Wall would ever get.
13. Call It Democracy
14. Each One Lost - - speaks for itself.
15. Wondering Where the Lions Are
16. Arrows of Light - - dulcimer. Always love the oldies coming off the shelf. Gary Craig thoroughly enjoying this. A great, long violin solo.
17. If a Tree Falls - - a strong version, with the guitar soloing which I never tire of, again made even more interesting and different with the violin solo.
18. Lois on the Autobahn - - perhaps my favourite of the new instrumentals.
19. All the Diamonds (baritone) - - made more appropriate by the fact this show was associated with the Winnipeg Folk Festival, the first festival being in 1974, which Bruce played at, and the song was also from the same year.
20. Tie Me at the Crossroads - - what I remember about this was the piercing scream let loose by the woman behing me after it finished. Went through my temple like a nail.
21. Gifts

Aside notes : an old friend I hadn't seen in about 10 years came up to me and thanked me for having given him a tape some 12 years ago of my guitar renditions of 70s BC instrumentals. It seemed to influence him to get interested in Bruce and was now coming to his first Bruce show. I also got rid of my extra ticket to another first-time Bruce attendee who thoroughly enjoyed the show.

Lastly, meeting Bruce. First, what to get signed. I had to side with what I guess I have to call my favourite album, Dragons Jaws. Also brought along Humans in case I changed my mind. I kept thinking - well, what to say? I'd met Bruce once before, in 1983, at a church in Toronto after he'd returned from Nicaragua and gave talks about the experience and did about 6 songs. At that time I got a few minutes and we talked general politics, and I made some reference to the Trouble with Normal. This time (28 years later) was a completely different context, and Bruce has, what, "mellowed" out more, relaxed some?

This was also unique because in all the years I've been going to Bruce shows, I've never seen any autograph signings intentionally being set up. We know he just shies away from that fandom thing, would rather deflect admiring attention away from himself. That being the case, I was very surprised that he was intentionally offering to sign at the shows. But I kept thinking I didn't want to say anything "fan-like" or impose anything like that, stay too long, hold up the line, start babbling without direction, etc., and I really had no special, interesting thing to say. I had it in mind to thank him for pulling out some oldies for the show, but I think I forgot to say that.

The few minutes seemed to largely be a blur after the fact. I just gave him my Dragons vinyl LP cover and said I wasn't sure which album to choose for signing because he had so many, and he simply replied that they do tend to pile up. He remarked I was giving him something old to sign - - I think I may have been the only one or one of very few who'd brought an LP, and an older one at that. Most people seemed to be getting ticket stubs and table bought recent CDs signed. I also asked if he'd mind signing my Humans CD, which he graciously did ("no problem at all").

Most people were getting photo-ops with Bruce, so I asked for the same, which he again was glad to do. I really wanted to thank Bruce for taking the time to sign and pose, and said thanks for indulging us. He seemed quite comfortable in saying it was no problem at all. Again, it just seems strange, because for these many years he has never seemed like the type who would want to have a signing / photo-op setup, simply because he does not appear comfortable with adulation.

Anyway, I wish I could have thought of something meaningful or interesting to say, but seemed to draw a blank for the most part. What did strike me about the few minutes though is the fact that alongside the sometimes angry, forceful song lyrics, there is a warm, gentle spirit that Bruce seems to project when you meet him, which also comes out in the songs.

And this must be why I keep coming back. ~Murray Harrison

5 April 2011 - Burton Cummings Theatre - Winnipeg - Setlist

~bobbi wisby

• Bruce Cockburn thrills at the National Arts Centre - By Denis Armstrong, Ottawa Sun
• Thunder Bay - April 6, 2011 - by Michelle McChristie - Photos by Darren McChristie
• By Roger Levesque, Freelance April 3, 2011 - www.edmontonjournal.com
• McPherson Playhouse in Victoria - Cockburn connects with fans By Adrian Chamberlain, Times Colonist March 27, 2011
• Cockburn remains musically impeccable - By Bill Robertson, Special to The StarPheonix March 24, 2011

6 April 2011 - Tuesday, April 5 @ Burton Cummings Theatre With Jenny Scheinman
"Perfection is elusive," Bruce Cockburn admitted to about 1,000 fans at the Burt on Tuesday night.

Maybe so. But you know what they say about practice and perfection. And Cockburn has had plenty of practice. Nearly half a century of it, in fact. Enough time to release more than 30 albums and become Canada’s reigning folk-rock figurehead (sorry, Neil; thanks for trying, Joni).

Trying to cram all that history and music into one 110-minute show is impossible. But the 65-year-old singer-guitarist made a pretty fair stab at it in his half-dozenth visit to the city since he played the inaugural Winnipeg Folk Festival back in 1974. Armed with a handful of acoustic guitars and his unmistakably warm pipes, and accompanied only by a percussionist and violinist, Cockburn presented a 21-song set that spanned his career, from his most recent compositions to what he called "the oldest song I know — that I wrote, anyway." [Bruce is referring to the song Gifts]

He started closer to this end of the spectrum, with the spry Last Night of the World and the mellow Mango, both from 1999’s Breakfast in New Orleans, Dinner in Timbuktu. Clad in black T-shirt and baggy pants tucked into combat-style boots, he looked casual yet serious — though his centre-parted gray hair, glasses and gentle smile gave him the appearance of a preacher at a Bible camp singalong. And come to think of it, those pants might have been just a little too distractingly baggy in the crotch area; I’m not sure drawing attention to his package was the plan, but if so, mission accomplished, dude. But I digress.

Cockburn, on the other hand, wasn’t being distracted, deflecting a steady stream of requests with comebacks like, "Thank you for asking for that." And really, the fans — roughly divided between faithful old folkies and 20-something newbies — needn’t have worried. Bruce didn’t play every hit he’s ever had — If I Had a Rocket Launcher and Making Contact were notable by their absence. But he included enough of them to keep any folkie satisfied. And changed them up enough to keep the rest of us interested. Lovers in a Dangerous Time was dark and swirling, thanks to his phaser pedal. Tokyo got an energetic delivery, with some slashing guitars. Wondering Where the Lions Are supplied all the Afro-pop chime required by law, with the audience providing the response to his chorus call. The environmental rocker If a Tree Falls retained every bit of its power and passion.

Between those landmarks, there were plenty more highlights for the dedicated. Case in point: The dark ballad Put it in Your Heart. (Said Bruce: "This was my contribution to the plethora of post-9/11 songs, some of which were pretty darn crappy. You’ll have to decide for yourself if it belongs in that category." Just for the record, it doesn’t.) There was the angry slow-burner Call it Democracy, which prompted a Green Party supporter to yell, "Let Elizabeth May speak," earning a quick "Shut up!" from a fellow fan (hey, it wouldn’t be a Cockburn show without a little political debate — though the man himself wisely stayed out of it, simply quipping "You’re calling for songs we don’t know" to the pair). Later, the hypnotic Indian-spiced meditation Arrows of Light found Cockburn trading in his emerald-topped acoustic guitar for a droning dulcimer. And a handful of cuts from this year’s upbeat CD Small Source of Comfort — including the spiky blues-rocker Five Fifty-One, the moving military eulogy Each One Lost and the surreal Call Me Rose (which imagines Richard Nixon reincarnated as a ghetto mom) — made it clear Cockburn’s songwriting prowess has not diminished with time.

Nor, obviously, has his taste in bandmates. Percussionist Gary Craig and violinist Jenny Scheinman both proved subtle yet distinctive accompanists, colouring around the edges of Cockburn’s precise fingerpicking and rich melodies. Craig moved deftly between a cymbal-heavy kit to hand drums, adding lightly syncopated grooves and a wealth of clattery textures. Scheinman switched between violins, mandolin and bouzouki, offering ethereal ambience, emotive countermelodies, rootsy ethnic motifs and sweet vocals, even taking the lead on her own Littlest Prisoner (the Brooklyn-based performer also did double-duty as the show's opening act).

By the time the trio closed with a lengthy encore — consisting of the jaunty instrumental Lois on the Autobahn, the seafaring All the Diamonds, the blues-rocking Tie Me at the Crossroads and the short-but-sweet vintage vignette Gifts — Cockburn and co. were no small source of comfort, joy and entertainment.

It may not have been perfect. But it was close enough.

Set List:
Last Night of the World
Mango
Lovers in a Dangerous Timev Tokyo
Five Fifty-One
Call Me Rose
Put it in Your Heart
Bone in My Ear
Driving Away
Boundless
Albert
Littlest Prisoner
Call it Democracy
Each One Lost
Wondering Where the Lions Are
Arrows of Light
If a Tree Falls
Encore:
Lois on the Autobahn
All the Diamonds
Tie Me at the Crossroads
Gifts

~ by Darryl Sterdan, from Winnipeg Sun, 6 April 2011.

1 April 2011 -

Mike Ragogna: Your new release, Small Source Of Comfort, puts your album count at over 30, right?

Bruce Cockburn: I believe the official count of this one is number 31.

MR: Nice. What went into recording Small Source Of Comfort that was different than the previous 30?

BC: Well, every album is the product of its own thing. This album is the product of its own time and place, in a way, and the product of the time between now and when I recorded the last studio album, which was about 5 or 6 years ago. There was a live album in that time that did have one new song on it, but all of these are songs that have been sort of building up inside that period of time. And I don't know if it's different from all of my other albums, but one thing I feel about it is it's more of a return to the "folkier" sound of the early to mid '70s, and if you categorize my albums, it's more like the '80s or '90s stuff that I've done.

MR: Let's go into Iris Of The World, which says, "I've mostly dodged the dogmas of what life is all about." Have you?

BC:Well... I certainly try. (laughs) Well, it's a complicated thing to express in regular language outside of a song. I do feel a disinclination to be embroiled in dogma. I've flirted with it, certainly, in times. For instance, when I first started calling myself a Christian in the early '70s. I wasn't sure exactly what that meant at the time, so I went with the people who claimed they did, and that involved some dogma. But I got disenchanted with that pretty quickly, and my approach to Christianity remained somewhat outside the pale. At this point, I'm not even sure that I call myself a Christian anymore, but I don't take back any of what I said or experienced during that time. And my relationship with the divine and the cosmos is of paramount importance in my life. I think that shows up in my songs the '70s through the '80s.

MR: In Call Me Rose, you reincarnate Richard Nixon. Why would anyone do such a thing?

BC: Lord, preserve us! (laughs) I really don't have a good explanation for how that song came into being. I woke up one morning with the song fully written in my head, just the lyrics; the music took a bit longer. But there was a whole set of words, and I thought "Where is this coming from?" I really don't have the answer. It did sort of happen when this previous Bush Administration was trying to rehabilitate the image of Richard Nixon. I specifically remember there being a campaign in the press, and you heard pundits making announcements to the effect that "Richard Nixon was the greatest President that the United States had ever had," and about how he was misunderstood. And what was odd was that after a month or so, it just stopped completely. What that suggested to me was that the American public just wasn't buying it at all, and that they just gave up spending money on it, which was wonderful, actually. So, I suppose, somewhere in the song, there is the notion of speculating about what the actual rehabilitation of Richard Nixon would look like -- not just his image in the press, but his "self," his soul, and there he is in the song being reincarnated as a single mom living in the projects.

MR: What fit justice.

BC: (laughs) It seems like justice! But he's still Richard Nixon because at the end of the song, he's saying "Maybe the memoir will sell..."

MR: And there's Driving Away, which I can personally relate to. I think everyone has had the impulse to just jump into the car and drive away.

BC: That song was actually co-written with Annabelle Chvostek, who is a young Canadian songwriter who was formerly a member of a group called The Wailin' Jennys that some people in the States may be familiar with. A couple of years ago, she went out on her own and at one point got in touch with me and asked if I would be interested in writing some songs together. I thought, "Actually, yes! I would," because, first of all, I knew she was good, and because I was wondering what I was going to do next, so it seemed like a very timely invitation. When we got together, she had a lot of that song already written. Most of the words for the verses were already complete and some of the melody, so we worked together on it, and I came up with the chorus and some of the lines of the verses that needed expanding. We were also thinking, during the process, about what the calamity of fleeing was here, and we decided to let it remain non-specific and hang in the air because it felt more like life like that. It doesn't really matter. The point of that is that it's easier, more tempting, and more common for people confronted by things that they don't want to deal with to flee than it is to deal. So, really, that's where the song is coming from.

MR: Is Annabelle singing on the track with you?

BC: Yeah, that's Annabelle singing and playing a second guitar part. I'd have to look to see who you'd be hearing on which side of your speakers. (laughs) We basically performed it live as a duet in the studio.

MR: By the way, favorite title? Lois On The Autobahn, nice.

BC: Well, you know, it's always hard to find a title to go with instrumental tracks because you don't have a handy bundle of words to pull a title out of. In this case, everyone that heard the song thought of driving, including me. It just had the feeling of being on some type of recreational drive because it's not hurried or intense, just kind of mellow. After my Mom passed over the summer and I did not yet have a title for the song, I thought, "You know what? That's my mom," and I put her on the Autobahn, even though I don't know if she was ever in Germany because I wanted the bold image of the Autobahn and the open road with no speed limits, a place where she could just sail on to the afterlife.

MR: Beautiful. And your humor is pretty right on with Call Me Back.

BC: Well, if you read the liner notes with the cover of the album, what I say about this song is that everybody is just too damn busy these days and, really, that's what it is. I just had an experience, like we all have, of trying to reach someone and they just don't call you back. Then, you find out when you talk to them that they were just up to their ears in something and moving too fast trying to keep up with life, so they didn't call. At least that's the story we get. I've had that experience myself, and there have certainly been lots of times when I was the one who didn't call someone back. But it just seemed like such a typical experience of these times that it deserved a song, and so on this one occasion that it happened, I thought of this song. When I started writing it, I had to think about where to take it because it should be a humorous song since I didn't want to get too serious and deliver a sermon on not calling people back, so I just made everything progressively more absurd as the song goes along. In the song, I start thinking, "Maybe there's a reason he's not calling me back. Maybe he's got some problems or is going through a divorce or had a triple or quadruple bypass. Maybe his mother is in trouble with the law." So, that's kind of where it started, and obviously, with lyrics like that, I wanted music that was raw and ragtime-y, and that's how that song came to be.

MR: So, what's happening in your brain at 5:51 in the morning?

BC: The song is a real Brooklyn song. My girlfriend was living in Brooklyn for a few years and I was making frequent trips down there to visit. It compresses a couple of events down into one song because no one needs to hear an epic. But it's about the business of being awake at that hour seeing daylight come in and thinking, "Yeah, this is where a small source of comfort comes from." The fact that this sun came up is a small source of comfort, because the song talks about not taking those small things for granted anymore because of all the things that are falling apart. So, that's where the song starts, and there are references to things around the urban scene -- the smell of diesel or chemicals when no one is awake, and you know that someone is doing something they're not supposed to.

The business about the cops coming to your door in the middle of the night actually happened. We were just getting in from a movie around midnight, we were getting ready for bed, and my girlfriend was in the shower and I was standing around unclothed. All of a sudden, there was a massive pounding on the door and I wrapped something around myself, went to the door, and there were four New York cops standing there, all looking mean. Then they said, "We've had a complaint that there's some trouble here," and I was very confused for a moment, but they were actually quite nice once they realized that nothing was going on. As it turned out, one of the neighbors called them thinking they heard a break-in taking place or something when it was actually just us coming home. I never did get a straight answer about why my neighbor called.

MR: And are you still Wondering Where the Lions Are?

BC: (laughs) Uh, no, not in so many words. But the song is still around and I'm quite happy to own up to it.

MR: Can you tell us a little bit about the inspiration for what, I suppose, was your first international hit, and can you describe for us what went on in that song?

BC: Well, yes, the song came about because I had dinner with a family member who was very deeply embroiled in the intergovernmental security establishment. He was a liaison between the Canadian security establishment and Washington during the Cold War era, and he was very knowledgeable about a lot of things that he couldn't talk about. At the time, China and Russia were coming to blows on the mutual border and he was saying that nobody was too worried about what Russia would do because Russia and the West spy on each other and there was so much information passively shared that neither one was going to surprise the other. China wasn't a part of that equation and no really one knew if China had nuclear weapons or not. Nobody knew under what conditions they would potentially use them, and nobody knew what their choices would consist of. So, he basically said, in so many words, that we could wake up tomorrow and the world would be ending. And when I woke up the next morning, it wasn't. (laughs)

So, I ended up driving down a road somewhere on a bright sunny day, and the opening lines of the song came into my head. From there, it was just a matter of pulling together imagery that went with that. The second verse of the song talks about a dream I had in which the streets were full of lions walking around, but that was also in contrast to a dream that I had where lions were walking around but they weren't very threatening. They were pretty much maintaining their distance and they weren't attacking anyone. So, that's what got this whole thing going. Then, once you're wondering where the lions are, you're looking at the world saying, "This is all great, but where are those lions? And what are they going to do next?"

MR: (laughs) So you're really not wondering where they are.

BC: Not so much. I've done a lot of digging into my own psyche over the intervening years, and I'm not so ignorant about where those lions are. But I still think it's appropriate to be wondering.

MR: That song is just such a classic, and you seem to have many of them, all songs that I related to so much when I first heard them, especially The Trouble With Normal, If A Tree Falls, If I Had A Rocket Launcher, and Lovers In A Dangerous Time. That song, in particular, still gives me the chills because I think we're still in dangerous times considering global warming, etc. This song is about hanging on together to get through the hardships, right?

BC: Yeah. When I first got the idea for that song, my daughter was quite young and I began thinking, as I was watching her and her friends in the schoolyard, that these kids are growing up with a completely different worldview than the one that I grew up with. When I was young, we went through grade school with the threat of nuclear war and all of the stuff that went with that -- nuclear testing and so on. I remember having the nuclear air raid drills where we hid under our desks from the nuclear bombs. (laughs) But as a child, it never seemed very real, and yet, the children in my daughter's generation were not only experiencing the prospect of war, which never really goes away, but the degradation of the environment, AIDS, all kinds of dark things, and a different kind of atmosphere that seemed to be potentially heading in a more depressing era than what I grew up in. I began asking myself, "How do you love with so much fear being hurled at you all the time?" The song has a bit of a message of hope for that generation, but, of course, it applies in other ways as well. In the early '80s when the song came out, AIDS was looming very large on everyone's radar, so it may even be interpreted as being about that as well -- especially the last part of the song. I also enjoy the fact that people can relate to this song, or any song of mine, through their own experiences. I feel that that is not only completely legitimate, but inescapable. That song got quite a lot of attention, and I'm very happy that it did.

MR: What was also great, to me, was the fact that through your music, you were one of the voices of reason. When I look at a period like the second Bush's eight years and I realize that people like Keith Olbermann and Jon Stewart... well, all of you were, in a sense, "carrying the flag of sanity" during some very trying times. And in the '80s, you were -- and I believe you still are -- one of those voices of reason for many people. For instance, there was Call It Democracy and If I Had a Rocket Launcher whose lyrics, in particular, have strong sentiment. "If I had a rocket launcher, some son of a b***h would die..." I think that these songs showed the passion and anger that was present in the American public during the first Bush administration following eight years of Reaganism.

BC: I agree. A lot of people felt helpless. Even in Canada, we were looking at the effects of that administration. It was a difficult time because we weren't able to vote, so we were just left watching the U.S. with no ability to influence it in any real way, and with Americans, there just seemed to be this head-long momentum in a certain direction and any dissent from that was not welcomed.

MR: You're absolutely right. For instance, I remember a pro-choice rally being held at the Capitol where numbers in the media were being vastly under-reported, whereas the numbers for the anti-abortion protests -- that phrase later being "Luntzed" into "pro-life" -- seemed to be broadcast as having millions of attendees. It's amazing that a country that is so smart can seem to fall for the propaganda such as this, and, I suppose, we're still falling for it. I guess what happened during Hurricane Katrina woke us up from our Bush nightmare.

BC: Hurricane Katrina was a graphic representation at home of the way that calamity is dealt with in official circles, and it seemed to directly parallel what was going on in Baghdad. People who were affected weren't allowed to fix their own houses, and yet we had the same "money-makers" getting paid to go down there and do nothing, just like they were in Baghdad. So, people got to see -- though I'm not sure everyone made the connection -- that kind of behavior on the part of the higher powers. And I don't think that deception was confined to either Bush Administration--you will see that phenomenon rising and falling, but it never completely goes away. I believe the interests of corruption and greed are too well entrenched. But, of course, the more popular resistance there is to it, the more it has to happen.

MR: Yeah, and one of my favorite things that Keith Olbermann did was draw the connection between those who were the loudest resisters to health care reform and the monetary contributions they were getting from the industry.

BC: Absolutely. It's not surprising, really. What is more surprising is the fact that we let it happen. It's a part of human nature to feather your own nest and do as well as you can in the process. But there are supposed to be state institutions that prevent us from falling headlong into that, and that's where things tend to come apart -- and lack of media coverage and scrutiny plays into the hands of those motivated people.

MR: I agree. It's funny, we all know to "follow the buck" to discover the truth, and yet no one really wants to.

BC: Unless they think they can get a hold of it. (laughs)

MR: (laughs) Exactly. Bruce, what's happening in the news right now that has your attention?

BC: Well, you know, I'm watching what's going on in the Middle East with interest and apprehension like everyone else. It may shake down to something like the status quo or it may represent real change of some kind. It does represent a certain instability that's disturbing because of the amount of worldwide attention and energetic investment in that region because of oil and so on. The Islamic world, which of course extends much further than the countries that we see in turmoil at the moment, is looking very hard at those things. To the extent that the Islamist (extremists) are likely to gain ground through this kind of stuff... to that extent, we should be worried. I don't think that they represent interests that we are going to like very much, and they have their counterpart in the so-called American Christian right. They really are, I believe, cut from the same cloth, they're just operating in a different fashion. But if you gave them half a chance, they would be doing what the Taliban did in Afghanistan or the equivalent. So, the more that kind of extremism comes to influence the course things, the more precarious the freedoms that we love are, and that bothers me. I'm pretty attached to women being equal with me and to my freedom of speech and movement, and the more that the other crap goes on, the more that freedom is encroached upon. Even without the fanatics coming into ascendancy, it's just my way of reaction. As we saw after 9/11, everything tightened down, and all of a sudden, there was this institution called Homeland Security that is in charge of everything. So far, the effects of that are pretty benign, but I don't think it's a given that it'll stay benign.

MR: And there was a time that it wasn't so benign, especially when we were water boarding.

BC: Exactly. There's that dark side of it that you don't want to get any bigger. And the more we're confronted with extremism, the more we'll be confronted with extremism on our side of the fence as well, and it's worrisome. But you never really know how these things are going to shake down, so it's not appropriate to be hopeless.

MR: Do you have any advice for new artists?

BC: (laughs) Well, not very meaningful advice because the whole scene is so different now than when I started. But one thing I will say is that if you have a sense of what you want your art to be, stick to it. Don't let other people tell you that it's not acceptable or not appropriate or not the way to get ahead. Go with your gut on that stuff.

The other piece of advice would be to hang on to your publishing if you're a songwriter. Don't give it away. Although, as I said everything is in such a different state that this may not be as widespread, historically, there have been record companies who have asked you to give up your publishing in exchange for a record contract. Personally, I'm not sorry to see some of the bigger record companies go down because they have been screwing people for so long that they had it coming. The problem is that the things that are taking them down are also making it difficult for the rest of us. But as far as artists go, I would encourage them to hang on to their songs -- keep owning them because that gives you some creative control over what happens, and it also may be a potential source of income down the road. If you get lucky, someone high-profile may record your songs or you may become high profile enough yourself to generate royalties. Then it's more meaningful.

MR: So, you've had songs in quite a few movies, and you have been inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame where all sorts of people paid tribute to you. How does it feel to be one of the major veteran singer-songwriters of Canada and to look back at your career and catalog? Sorry for using the word "veteran" because it implies some sort of age or...

BC: ... it's alright to imply age when it's actually there. (laughs) Yeah, I'm a legend in my own mind. (laughs) Well, I don't do this very often, but if I look back at my career, it's a surprise to me every time because I didn't expect anything when I started out and then all this stuff happened and it's pretty great. I can also see that having an excellent manager was a large part of that success -- having someone that can operate in the strategic aspect for all these years. But I truly feel that I have been lucky and blessed with the ability to keep going when a lot of people have not, and I'm very grateful for that.

MR: Well, I wish you even further success because it's so important artists like you, especially artists who are as socially conscious as you, keep reminding us through your music about what is going on around us.

BC: (laughs) Well, as long as I can I will, I guess. There's nothing else that's likely to happen.

MR: Thanks for being as candid as you were.

BC: Thank you for being interested.

Small Source Of Comfort Tracks:

1. The Iris Of The World
2. Call Me Rose
3. Bohemian
4. Radiance
5. Five Fifty-One
6. Driving Away
7. Lois On The Autobahn
8. Boundless
9. Called Me Back
10. Comets Of Kandahar
11. Each One Lost
12. Parnassus And Fog
13. Ancestors
14. Gifts

Transcribed by Evan Martin

~from The Huffington Post article by Mike Ragogna 1 April 2011.

30 March 2011 -
EDMONTON - In the opening notes to Small Source Of Comfort, his first new studio album in six years, Bruce Cockburn explains that he set out to do something different, something "electric and noisy."

But that never happened.

Apparently, he never found the element of isolation he needed. Personal priorities — spending time with his American-based girlfriend, and his restless spirit— interceded.

"It’s important to be able to move with the changes," he notes. "All of life is like that. What are you gonna do? Sit around and cry or work with what you’ve got?"

So fans will just have to settle for another of the beautifully crafted, largely acoustic sets of socially and politically astute songwriting that they have come to know and love from the Canadian folk-rock icon. At 65, he has more than 30 albums to his name and enough awards and honours to fill a garage, including an Order of Canada distinction.

Despite the serious look of his publicity photos, Cockburn turns out to be a more easygoing conversationalist that you might expect. He admits he’s more of “an urban person” despite the artistic need for isolation, and he values "the feeling of openness and vulnerability" that comes out of travelling.

"I am someone who gets bored easily, particularly with myself. I’m restless, and creatively it’s sort of necessary to keep experiencing stimuli that trigger your emotional responses. That’s how your creative process gets fired up."

On the phone from his home outside Kingston, Ont., he’s taking a break from rehearsals with the rest of his touring trio (American violinist Jenny Scheinman, Toronto percussionist Gary Craig). They’re also on the new album, produced by Colin Linden with a few other musicians and lots of Cockburn’s own gorgeous guitar.

Small Source Of Comfort offers much in the way of poetic imagery and insight, right from the opening hooks on The Iris Of The World. But it also has a few quirks.

Case in point, Call Me Rose, a song in the first person about former U.S. President Richard Nixon being reincarnated as a single mom with two kids, living in the slums. It’s some of the oddest evidence yet that Cockburn has a sense of humour.

"It’s the weirdest thing. I pay a lot of attention to my dreams but I didn’t dream that song. I woke up and it was conscious in my head like it had been dictated to me. I’m not suggesting that I was the victim of an alien abduction or anything, but it came from somewhere in my brain that I don’t normally have access to when I’m awake. All I can relate it to is that the (George W.) Bush administration had a little campaign to try to rehabilitate the image of Richard Nixon. It’s about power and redemption, I guess."

So if Cockburn can envision Nixon reborn as a poor woman named Rose, is there any chance that he himself might reincarnate, perhaps as a politician?

"I guess, if I have to pay for my sins, then I might have to come back that way."

Cockburn can’t recall that politics was a frequent topic of dinnertime conversation when he was a kid growing up in Ottawa, though his parents did instil a certain awareness of civic responsibilities and the importance of voting.

"That set the stage, but my personal involvement with politics really stems from starting to travel and meeting people where politics really did matter — native people, for instance, or going to Italy in the 1970s when the Red Brigades were active. There was a sense of chaos all over that was very different from the relatively bland liberal atmosphere that I had grown up in."

After Cockburn’s first recording came out in 1970, it was only a matter of time before such experiences would have an effect on his songwriting.

"It opened my eyes to the idea that the political world was as real as the rest of life and it expanded the horizons of responsibility that I felt already. Without getting pompous, I think that responsibility is kind of central to art in general. The job of an artist is to tell the truth as you understand it. It’s also perfectly permissible to make fluffy entertainment if that’s what you want to do."

If any one song gave him a reputation as a political activist it was the 1984 hit single If I Had A Rocket Launcher, inspired by meeting Guatemalan refugees in war-torn Central America. In 2009, he travelled to Afghanistan, to visit his brother Capt. John Cockburn, a doctor serving in the war zone, and to entertain the troops. The trip inspired two memorable tracks on the new album, including an instrumental called The Comets Of Kandahar. Another song, Each One Lost, was written after he witnessed a ramp ceremony, the Canadian Force’s way of saying goodbye to two fallen soldiers.

"In a certain way, they exhibited that same subdued, very dignified response to pain that I had first witnessed in the Guatemalan refugees years ago. I guess maybe I’m a sucker for that because it really affected me as strongly as being with those refugees did. Maybe it’s because they were young Canadians. In some ways, I felt like they were my kids, but it made honouring them on that occasion even more poignant."

On a more directly personal note, Cockburn’s mother died last August, and another instrumental Lois On The Autobahn imagines her driving off into the afterlife.

Has witnessing death at home or abroad left him more reflective?

"You know from the get-go that you’re gonna die. I don’t look forward to it but I think I’ve written my own epitaph a whole bunch of times in my songs."

Cockburn can take his own small source of comfort from a legacy of songs that provokes people to hum along and to think, but he has no thoughts of retiring. After all, there are still unexplored ambitions, his "noisy" album, and maybe an album of covers.

"I don’t take things for granted but it’s worked out for me so far."

~from © Copyright (c)The Edmonton Journal

Wednesday, March 30th, 2011

The fact that Bruce Cockburn holds a cult following in the United States is only a small source of comfort. If there were any justice in the music business, he’d be as famous as that other Bruce from Jersey. Yet year after year, Cockburn turns out sometimes beautiful, other times angry, and always highly personalized collections of songs. Listening to his albums is like reading a poet’s intimate journal, as Cockburn oftentimes documents his travels to war-torn regions of the world to share his first-hand impressions of what is really going on.

Cockburn’s latest album, Small Source of Comfort, reveals this veteran folk singer’s still-fertile imagination. One song titled Call Me Rose imagines Richard Nixon as a woman of all things, for instance, while Each One Lost finds Cockburn mourning the mounting life losses in Afghanistan.

Stereo Subversion caught up with Cockburn after a bad day. His vehicle had broken down while he traveled across the United States. Yet you’d never even know anything had gone wrong while talking to him. Cockburn is soft spoken, polite, and always engaging. From a conversation that ranged from his brief brush with Hollywood, to his love of the open road, there was never a dull moment in this conversation.

Stereo Subversion: The first thing I noticed about your new album, Small Source of Comfort, was that there are many instrumentals on it. Would you say you’re in kind of a compositional zone now?

Bruce Cockburn: I don’t think we can make any grand inference from the fact that there’s the five instrumental pieces. I think they just worked out that way, and they seemed to flow together with the songs well, so we kept them all in. What’ll happen next? I have no idea. Perhaps I’ve written all the words I’m gonna write. I don’t really make deliberate plans about that kind of thing. It’s what happens. In this case, what happened was I got eight songs and then one old one pulled out of the closet and the five instrumental pieces.

SSv: When you compose an instrumental, is that just a song that words never came to, or do you intentionally create instrumentals?

Bruce: My songwriting goes in the opposite direction to that of many songwriters that I’ve compared notes with. I write the words first then I look for music to fit those words. In a way, I’ve compared it elsewhere to kind of scoring a film where you have images and maybe characters or bit of a story or something that you need to support, but you don’t want music to interfere with it. So it’s really lyric driven.

But, in the case of instrumental pieces, obviously that isn’t really how it works so they just come out of the air. They come out of fooling around with the guitar. While practicing or just exploring on the guitar and I’ll stumble on something that seems like it should become part of a piece, and then I’ll look for more things to go with it and eventually there’s a piece.

SSv: It makes me feel good to hear you say that you practice because I’m so impressed with your guitar skills. I fool around on the guitar, but I certainly can’t do anything like you can. But to hear that you practice, that gives me encouragement.

Bruce: You know what, use it or lose it. The older you get, the more true that is. There are so many skills that, if you want to keep them, you have to use them. You’ve got to practice.

SSv: I was reading the notes to the album about the song Bohemian 3-Step where you said you were creating a score for a major Hollywood film - -

Bruce: Jenny Scheinman plays violin all over the record, which I’m really happy I got to know over the last few years in Brooklyn. We had done a bit of playing together. When she’s not touring with other people — because she hasn’t toured with me, although she will be shortly — she’s got a regular weekly gig she’s does at a tiny club in Brooklyn. And one night I was walking by there — and this is kind of how I got to hear her — I’d heard her play with Bill Frisell and then I started paying attention until one day we walked by the club and there was a sandwich board outside with her name on it, so we went in and heard this amazing performance.

One thing led to another and we ended up getting to know each other and she invited me to come and do a couple of those gigs with her, as kind a dual gig where we would do half my stuff, and half her stuff. And we did that, and it was really fun. And at one of those [shows], a music director for this big Hollywood film, which I’m not really supposed to name, I don’t think. I think there was an agreement to that effect. But the music director for the film happened to be in the audience. Or actually he didn’t happen to; he came to hear Jenny because he thought that her music might suit the film.

When he heard what we were doing together it made him think that there was a strong possibility for the pair of us. So he approached us about making a demo, which the film company paid for. Whatever. But it wasn’t a case of competing against other people for the gig. It was more a case of making up a demo so the director of the film could hear what it would be like. He was not sure where he wanted to go with, with the music, and whether he wanted to go in a more scaled down direction or with a big orchestral score.

In the end, he decided to go with the big orchestral score. Meanwhile, we had done this demo and what that meant is that we spent a week hanging out together and co-writing a bunch of pieces and then learning them and then recording them. And it was really fun doing that, too. Some of those pieces…man, I think there’s some viable music that we may end up doing something with some day, but how it relates to the album is that a couple of the pieces on the album were written very much at the influence of working with Jenny, Bohemian 3-Step, particularly. But also Lois on the Autobahn is a product of that. But I expect that if I continue to be acquainted with her for long enough, we will have some affect on each other’s stuff.

SSv: Maybe you could become the next Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grapelli.

Bruce: That would be weird. I don’t know if that’s in the cards, but Jenny’s really worth checking out. She’s going to be the opening act on the tour, as well as playing violin with me in a tiny three-piece band.

SSv: Oh wow! That should be fun for you.

Bruce: I think so, yeah.

SSv: The last time I saw you, maybe you remember the gig at the Santa Monica Pier.

Bruce: That was the festival that didn’t quite work. It was really good musically, but I don’t think very many people came to it. Yeah, it was a good gig.

SSv: I think you were just by yourself…

Bruce: …yes, on that occasion.

SSv: You know, when you mentioned the Hollywood film, and then I looked on the album credits that you thanked Ang Lee, am I jumping to a conclusion that those two are associated, or is Ang Lee just a friend of yours?

Bruce: You might be jumping to a correct conclusion, but I don’t think I can really confirm or deny it.

SSv: Okay. I’m not going to press you on it.

Bruce: They were very particular about that.

SSv: We’ll just let readers draw their own conclusions and let it be that. I also noticed in the notes to the new album that a lot of your ideas come from driving. Do you like driving, and what is it about driving that kind of helps to inspire music?

Bruce: There’s a lot of visual imagery in the songs that are definitely the product of long distance driving. We were just spending a lot of time on the highway. In my case, I do have a bit of a bug for driving; especially in the West where the spaces are big and the speed limits are high and there’s incredible what – to me – is my favorite landscape, which is kind of that mountainous desert stuff that you drive across when you go through Wyoming and Utah and Nevada. I love that.

So any chance I get to drive across it, I welcome. I like the meditative aspect of driving through those conditions where there’s a lot of space and you’re not really – you obviously have to be paying attention to what you’re doing – but you aren’t dealing with imminent crisis moment by moment, like you are when you’re driving in Eastern traffic.

So there’s a lot of time to just feel the landscape, feel the kind of timelessness of sitting in that landscape. It doesn’t work so well when you’re in a hurry because you’re aware of how long it’s taking to get to the next whatever. But where there’s not a time issue, even though you’re probably going at the same pace, you don’t have that hanging over you, so that’s why it feels really good. I’ve had that itch since I was young.

~from http://stereosubversion.com/interviews/bruce-cockburn by Dan MacIntosh, Wednesday, March 30th, 2011. © Copyright 2010, Stereo Subversion, LLC. All rights reserved

Editor note: The show at the Santa Monica Pier.

21 March 2011 - Small Source Of Comfort (True North) is the latest LP from legendary Canadian singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn. It’s also his 31st studio album in a career that dates back all the way to the mid-’60s. Over the years, Cockburn has become one of his country’s most successful and honored musicians, winning more than his share of awards and accolades, not only for his music but also for his longtime humanitarian work. This week, Cockburn adds MAGNET guest editor to his already impressive resume.

Cockburn: In 1970, I bought my first truck: a Dodge pickup with a three-speed floor shift. I think I paid around $3,500 for it new. I put an insulated cap on the back and built a bed in it. My then-wife Kitty and I, with our dog Aroo, spent much of the next few years driving back and forth across Canada, living in and out of that truck. The lifestyle changed when our daughter Jenny was born and when touring expanded into something more like a military exercise than the nomadic wandering it had been.

Later on I began to develop a certain nostalgia for that original road experience: for the meditative effect of an unfolding Western highway, for solitude in the presence of large landscapes, for the illusion of freedom. When my girlfriend moved from Brooklyn to San Francisco a while ago and the commute from my house in eastern Ontario got a lot longer, I found myself able to exercise my nostalgia. Having to. The difference now, of course, being that the landscape is that of the U.S. and no longer Canada. Not that it’s new territory. Over the years I’ve played gigs pretty much everywhere in North America. But the ability to savor the landscape and the feeling of travel is a whole other thing when it’s just me.

I have a van with a good sound system. It has a comfortable bed, and I generally camp in truck-stop parking lots. I don’t eat meals per se, but snack on the healthiest stuff I can find and drink too much coffee.

This is me and peak oil. The modern oil industry and I both came to life at the end of WW II. I expect we’ll peak and fade about the same time. It will soon be a very different world. Meanwhile, I don’t suppose my carbon footprint is any bigger travelling by road than by air. It’s likely smaller. And I love these long drives.

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - Transcontinental Driving - on Magnet

Cockburn: I’ve been on tour, and it’s now over. I drive north through the U.S., stopping here and there to take in the sights. I turn in to a forested area with some farms and continue driving on a gravel road up the back of a steep hill. There are a couple of small buildings that seem abandoned. Above me is another hill, which is grassy and steep and vaguely breast-shaped. I climb this. At the top is a small knoll like a nipple, also grassy. I climb up this, too, as I want to sit on it to take in the view. It’s precarious, because the other side of the hill is almost a straight drop. The wind is fresh, and I feel very happy.

I look back down at where I parked. There is an African-American family with grandparents and a couple of kids. One of the boys sees me and is clearly envious of my position. He wants to come up here too.

I carry on northward to a border town where some of my gear has been left for me in a sheriff’s department. SUV parked beside the police station. I spend the night at a motel next door, planning to leave early the following day with my belongings. In the morning, though, the vehicle is gone.

I anxiously go into the police station and talk to the two deputies who are inside. They say something to the effect that the SUV has been sold and they don’t know where it is. I remain respectful, but become agitated. Finally the officer who seems to be in charge leads me to an inner office in which all my gear sits piled on a couch. He says,''Do you have anything to say to me?'' I reply, "I feel like a total fool, having assumed you’d left all this stuff in the truck. I’m sorry and thank you!"

The sheriff himself, an older guy, now comes in along with another gray-haired man. He is jovial and gives me a little package. "This is for you," he says. "Go on. Open it!" It contains a crocheted scarf, which I can actually use, though it’s not quite my taste, and a tiny dog collar with little shiny chains hanging from it. It’s not at all clear what I’m supposed to do with this …

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - A Dream in Two Parts - on Magnet

Cockburn: Jenny Scheinman has performed and recorded with a legion of fine artists from Bill Frisell and Ani DiFranco to Lucinda Williams and Rodney Crowell. You may know her from this, but if you haven’t checked out her own CDs, you’re missing something great! As a jazzoid composer and player, Jenny has developed an eclectic style both fresh and varied. She performs her pieces with a range of ensembles, which feature ace musicianship from the likes of Todd Sycafoose, Myra Melford, Kenny Wollesen, Nels Cline and others.

Then there’s the songwriting. I’m not exactly clear on the genre boundaries involved, but with violin and mandolin accompaniment, Jenny has these songs with clever, thoughtful, sometimes humorous lyrics that sound to me like a kind of bent California neo-bluegrass. Full of good energy.

Aside from simply wanting to bring her to your attention, I have a certain stake in this. Jenny Scheinman is featured as a guest on my new CD and is also touring with me starting as both opening act and as part of my tiny-but-perfect band.

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - Jenny Scheinman - on Magnet

Cockburn: In all cultures, all times, there is in people a hunger for the divine. There is a feeling that each of us is part of something universal. That feeling is usually institutionalized into religion, which often replaces the divine with the counterfeit sense of being one instead with the tribe. The divine, though, means different things to different people. For some, it’s the planet. For some, it’s the projected psyche split into parts with the faces of gods, or science.

I believe in God. I believe there is a divine presence, an energy, that is the fabric of everything. Sometimes we can feel this presence as love. My relationship with God is very personal. If I still my internal fussing and pride, I might be able to discern what God wants for me, but I don’t think I’ll ever hear more than a suggestion of what is wanted for anyone else. You for instance. I might make that suggestion out loud, but if you don’t agree or don’t accept it, my part ends there. Anybody who says they know what God wants for you is deluded.

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind: God - on Magnet

Cockburn: The teenage son of a friend of mine was killed recently in a snowmobile accident. He was a popular kid—how much so his mother learned when it seemed like the whole town turned up to mourn his passing.

This inescapable transition from a living state to whatever awaits us is something we prefer to ignore much of the time, although our fascination with death is obvious from the constant stream of stories we are constantly telling ourselves. There are situations where it will be seen and felt. There are places where human death becomes another element in the landscape, along with roads and trees and air. In our own context, thankfully, death feels more like an occasion. I guess it’s safe to say it is always a shock to the deceased. I suspect (and fervently hope) that that shock is short-lived. To the survivors, the shock lasts a long time. In the case of a lost loved one, lifelong. I think I’ve seen that excruciating sense of loss be transmuted into a kind of interior altar where the lost one is honored.

We are this brief flare of energy sparked by birth and then snuffed out. It seems especially so when someone young goes down. Part of the energy goes on to what is next. Part of it remains as the memories of us held by those who knew us. When my mother died this past summer, she was just short of her 89th birthday. She had lived as much as circumstance and temperament permitted. She fought off the effects of cancer and its treatment for a long time. She curled and played tennis up to the last year of her life. She too was more popular than we had realized. At her visitation, a large number of her contemporaries showed up, most of them unknown to me, full of love and appreciation for her. That sad event became a celebration, even a joyous one, of mom and her life.

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind: Death - on Magnet

Cockburn: There was only one public latrine in the village. It was at the foot of the valley, below the ritually placed Dogon houses, where the spring’s ability to generate green vegetation came to an end at the dry plain of the Sahara. The structure was built up above ground: a mound of red earth 10 feet high shaped like a protruding navel. Finding myself in need of it, I went through the entrance to discover that I had to climb a short stair. This put me on a platform surrounded by an uneven, three-foot wall. As I squatted there with my head sticking up above the parapet, I felt extremely conspicuous. I wondered if I’d have to greet passersby from my elevated position, but the one or two women I could see hoeing in their garden ignored me.

I had a fine view of the surroundings. On one side, at my back, the looming 2,000-foot ramparts of the Bandiagara Escarpment. On the other, sand, thorns, the skeletons of dead baobab trees. Right where the patchwork of little-tilled fields hit the sand was a well spout from which water dribbled into a concrete trough. Nearby, a rectangle of chain-link fence stood next to a small house. While I watched, a wide column of dust approached that resolved itself into into a robed Peul herdsman driving a bleating, clanking crowd of sheep and goats. The animals rushed to the trough by the well, excited to be able to drink.

Startlingly blue sky. Red dust on the wind. This biblical scene of herder and flock. And if the shiny chain-link fence were not anomalous enough, inside it was a large array of solar panels, gleaming a darker blue.

I found out later that a former government had bought into the technology and installed a solar-powered well pump near each of the Dogon villages, dotting the escarpment. No ongoing tech support was given, so the systems broke down. Goats smashed the solar panels. This was the only one still working. The villagers had appointed a man to be trained in well maintenance. The little house was his, and he was charged with keeping everything running. When the well keeper grew too old, he passed on his knowledge to an apprentice in the traditional fashion.

For a fee of a few cents a year, the nomadic herders of the plain could water their livestock here. Back in the day, the Dogon and the Peul were mortal enemies, in the manner of farmers vs. herders the world over. They were enemies until France colonized Mali with cannons and forced peace on them 100 years ago. Now they coexist as partners facing ever-deepening desertification of the environment in which both must live.

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind: Water, Part 2 on Magnet

Cockburn: For a while, Battlestar Galactica and Dexter were running neck-and-neck as my favorite TV shows, but Dexter wins by default as the last man standing. It seems to me everybody with an imagination has, or has had, a secret inner life. I certainly have. All kinds of things happen in my imagination. Some are terrible, not in a Dexter way, but comparable. I don’t kill anybody, but at times my mind fills with horrible images.

That’s not as significant, though, as the fact of not being able (or willing) to share those thoughts and feelings. Not sharing means having secrets. When a young person develops the habit of keeping secrets (e.g. from parents, teachers, often for good reasons), it can be hard to break out of it later. You create strategies for avoiding the exposure of those secrets, and then you’re—presto—a bit like Dexter.

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - Dexter - on Magnet

Cockburn: When I was little, I wouldn’t go to sleep without my rubber knife hidden under my pillow. The sinister darkness under the bed could produce any number of monsters while I slept. The scary things under the bed moved to deeper and subtler places with the passage of time, but the love of a good knife only grew.

As a confirmed packrat, I end up with small-to-modest collections of things I like: bags and backpacks, jackets, comic books, DVDs U.S. quarters with states on them. And knives. Or, let’s say, edged implements. Some of them are agricultural in intent (e.g. old sickles). Some are art pieces, some utilitarian, some historical or exotic. The unifying factor is the beauty of form and function embodied in things with blades. There are a few made by high-end cutlers such as Jerry Fisk, Wolf Loerchner or >Brian Lyttle. Others are by lesser-known or up-and-coming makers. Some are traditional to various places: a delicate dagger from tango-era Buenos Aires designed to be worn in a woman’s garter, the one from Papua New Guinea crudely fashioned from the leg bone of a cassowary, the 150-year-old Chinese executioner’s sword. Some are purely practical camping or food-prep knives by companies like Benchmade and Spyderco. Being left-handed, I’m always on the lookout for folding knives oriented that way.

Sometimes a knife designed for one thing might get used for another; a combat knife doing duty in the kitchen, for instance. Actually, nearly all the knives get a bit of kitchen use, so they’re kept sharp. I have issues around my kitchen knives, insisting that they be treated with respect by any who use them. I seem to have impressed this so heavily on my daughter’s boyfriend that when he comes to visit, he brings his own knives.

~ from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - Knives - on Magnet

Cockburn: Back in the ’70s, I became interested in comics again. As a kid, I loved Tarzan and bought every issue for several years running. I lost interest in my teens, but it was reawakened when I discovered the French and Belgian bandes dessinées. These were comics with far better production values and a more adult orientation: sci-fi or fantasy stories, gritty noir detective tales, perverted humor. There was a whole world waiting to be savored in the union of story and dialogue with really good graphic art of many styles. Moebius, Hugo Pratt, Bilal & Christin and Jacques Tardi in particular lit up my imagination.

Over the years, some of the work of these artists has appeared in English, usually as a cheaper production and often with really bad translations. One of my favorites was Tardi’s series about a female private detective in fin-de-siecle Paris named Adèle Blanc-Sec. Fantagraphics has now released some of the Adèle stories in a form worthy of the original editions. They’ve put out other Tardi titles as well. This is exciting, even if I have them at home in French. It’s fun to think of a whole new audience discovering the work of such a great graphic novelist!

~ from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - Jacques Tardi - on Magnet

Cockburn: In the ’70s and ’80s, a lot of us became convinced that we shouldn’t drink tap water. We kept hearing about all the industrial and other pollutants, many of which don’t get caught by municipal treatment systems. It seemed as though bottled water was the way to go. Water from a spring somewhere had to be safer and usually tasted better. I, at least, didn’t suspect back then that we were being manipulated into yet another scheme to exploit our fear and the world’s poor at the same time. The bottled-water industry was setting itself up for windfall profits and a global takeover of fresh water sources.

There were those who saw it coming—as well as the potential for bad chemistry between water and the plastic of its containers. Now it’s become "common knowledge." Water is the new oil. Commercial interests in the developed world are pushing the old colonial agenda, now through so-called free-trade deals rather than conquest. As with oil, though, conquest is never completely ruled out.

Meanwhile, we now know we spent decades swilling a chemical cocktail of carcinogens and endocrine disruptors. Tap water begins to look better! Drink local. Aside from lessening exposure to all that noxious crap, it’s the only way to preserve our unfettered access to water. Surely that is the most basic of human rights.

~ from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - Water - on Magnet

Cockburn: - I like drinking wine. I’m currently trying to train myself to like pinot noir. I’ve never cared much for it, but so many of my friends and acquaintances do that I feel like I ought to understand what all the fuss is about. Pinot noir also contains the largest proportion among wines of resveratrol, the antioxidant that makes wine so good for you. I’ve now had a few that have gone down well, though some are too light and watery for my taste. Gimme the big wines, zin and merlot and amarone! Nothing brightens a day like well-chosen booze.

In Bolivia recently, my daughter and I were invited to help a number of Quechua villagers with their planting. Though it sounds like work, it was actually a social invitation. The custom is that all who work get fed and plied with chicha, a mildly alcoholic brew of corn, questionable water and, since everyone drinks from the same vessel, saliva. We arrived a bit late. Lunch was served, and we shared in it. A farmer mimed to me that if I didn’t do some work for my food and drink, I’d have to sing and dance for the crowd. This prompted me to grab a pickaxe and join him and the other men in crushing clumps of earth not sufficiently smashed by the bull-drawn plough. After 10 minutes of walking the furrows and slamming the pick down sideways on the thick clods, it was back to the shade and the pots of various forms of potatoes and corn. The men sat off to one side while Jenn and I sat with the women and kids, as she was acquainted with most of them and my Spanish is not up to chatting about the price of llamas or football or whatever the men were talking about. Jenn, on the other hand, had been living with these folks for six months and was able to communicate well in Spanish and their own Quechua tongue.

The boys were serving themselves drinks from a clear-glass gallon jug. Something other than chicha. One of them waved the bottle in my direction. I nodded back at him. He came over and poured me a glass and waited while I drank. It was fiery and smooth, like a fine grappa. The day was already bright. It got noticeably lighter …

~ from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind - Alcohol - on Magnet


Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind:
Sex in Amsterdam

Cockburn: - So there we are, standing on the cobblestones, looking at a building with a big pink elephant sign: LIVE SEX. My companion says, “Let’s go in!” Curiosity rules! We trade some cash for a hand stamp with a friendly fellow who informs us that the show is 90 minutes long and we’ll see “all positions.” Up the dark stairs and through a curtain. We’re in a smallish room with 100 or so theatre seats facing a well-lit stage on which stands a heart-shaped bed draped in red silk-like material.

The show is in three “acts,” with intermissions featuring a sort of comedy striptease in which an attractive young woman takes off part of her already-skimpy costume and invites three tittering college boys up to perform with her. One of them has to eat a banana from between her legs? Breasts? Funny, I can’t remember …

In each of the main acts, a woman wearing a thong comes onstage, which is now a bedroom. She appears to be idle, perhaps pining for someone or something. A stocky, swarthy and hirsute man enters stage right. He too wears a thong, with rather more of a bulge. They kiss in a perfunctory way, like an old married couple. Then, as they recline onto the bed, she removes his thong and goes down on him. The red-draped, heart-shaped bed begins to slowly revolve. Chill disco music plays. There is caressing and a display of something like tenderness. The man enters the woman from one of several possible directions. This is followed by rhythmic movements. Change angle of approach. Further rhythmic activity. After all the positions have been tried, they stop. There is no evidence of a climax, although the woman tosses her head and makes moaning noises. The bed ceases to revolve. We all applaud as the couple holds hands and takes a bow.

Each act involves a different couple. Each couple has its particular routine. All is carried out in a sedate, deliberate manner, which is so mechanistic as to seem quite innocent. We’re like aliens watching a display of the mating practices of earthlings. Not in the least sexy, but interesting.

~ from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind: Sex in Amsterdam - on Magnet

Cockburn: - Why do I play guitar, as opposed to drums or keyboard or bagpipes? Because of Elvis Presley (actually Scotty Moore, who played with Elvis, though I didn’t know his name until later) and Buddy Holly. And because my grandmother happened to have one in her attic. When that beat-up, low-rent instrument came into my hands at the age of 14, I knew it would become a key component of my life. When I showed so much interest in it, my parents got me a better one. It became a refuge from the horrors of adolescence—a step into the world of cool for a nerdy kid with a crappy self-image. I studied other instruments—clarinet, trumpet, a bit of cello—but it was the guitar that got into the core of me and clung there long after delusions of Elvis-hood had given way to the notion of becoming a jazz musician, then a rocker, then a singer/songwriter.

I own several guitars. The ones with which I’m most closely associated were made by Linda Manzer of Toronto, a fine luthier and a great friend. Back in the ‘80s, when synthesizers were becoming a fashion necessity on every record, another friend, Jonathan Goldsmith, archly declared to me that the guitar was dead and had no future. Jonathan is a top-notch composer and pianist. Hah. Guess who was wrong!

~ from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind: Guitars - on Magnet.

Cockburn: - And speaking of distortion—Rasputina! Melora Creager’s Brooklyn-based, cellos-plus-drums ensemble is responsible for some great records. The songwriting is rich with brains and sanguine humor, a kind of lighthearted approach to darkness within and without. The folk roots run deep, but they pounce into the present like they’ll eat you. Alive.

~from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind: Rasputina - on Magnet


Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind:
Konono N°1

Cockburn: - Konono N°1 is a band from Kinshasa, Congo. They’ve been around for quite a while, but I became aware of them a couple of years ago. Their sound is based around the likembe, a thumb harp similar to the South African mbira. To this they add vocals, percussion, sometimes electric bass and guitar. My favourite Konono N°1 CD is the one I first encountered, Congotronix, but there’s a recent one called Assume Crash Position.

This is street music par excellence, brimming with brash energy and full of exciting sounds, the music of a true jam band. They play with a kind of joyous rage. The likembes they use are electrified and amplified to the point of a deliciously over-the-top distortion, especially on Congotronix. That sound is less of an element on Assume Crash Position, but the grooves on both are loose and hypnotic and crazy deep as the Olduvai Gorge!

~ from Bruce Cockburn May Change Your Mind: Konono N°1 on Magnet


Q&A with Bruce Cockburn
Magnet Magazine - Eric T. Miller

11 March 2011 -

MAGNET: This is your 31st studio album. If asked, do you think you could, off the top of your head, name the other 30 in the order they were released? How many songs do you think you have written in total?

Cockburn: I believe I could come up with the correct list of albums and the order of their release. I often use them as reference points when trying to remember when other things happened. I guess I’ve written between 350 and 400 songs. Quite a few crappy ones were written before the ones on the first record.

Your first album came out in 1970, before a lot of us were even born, so you have seen, up close, all of the changes in the music industry. What do you think are the most significant ones? How different is making and releasing records for you now than it was in, say, 1970 or 1980 or even 1990?

Cockburn:The most important and most obvious change is in the technology. We used to have to go to the store and buy vinyl (or even bakelite) discs. We used to have to go to a professional studio to record! For me personally, the way we do things hasn’t changed so much up to now. It seems likely that there are changes looming on the horizon, as record companies become ever more redundant and the means of distribution keep changing.

I heard you only recently finally got a computer. What made you give in to technology, and more important, is it a Mac or PC? Do you involve yourself with Facebook, MySpace, etc.?

Cockburn: It’s true I only recently got a computer. My girlfriend gave me a Mac for Christmas. It’s really she who has driven my plunge into the e-world, first with a BlackBerry, then a digital camera and now the Mac. I had not felt the need for these things before this relationship,, but because of my travels we spend a lot of time apart. It’s very helpful to be able to communicate faster. And then, of course, there’s the shopping!

You made a trip to Afghanistan in 2009, which inspired two songs on the new album. What prompted you to go there? How did it shape your view of the war going on there?

Cockburn: I went to Afghanistan in September 2009 as part of a small group of people from the world of music and sports. The expectation was that we would offer some entertainment and a morale boost to the troops based at Kandahar Air Field. This we did our best to do. At that time, the base was being run by the Canadian Forces. I was happy to perform for our people. My personal motivation had a lot to do with curiosity and also a sense of solidarity with, and concern for, all those young Canadians risking life and limb so far from home. My brother had recently joined the army as a doctor, after a successful career in the civilian sector. He was soon sent to Kandahar for the standard six-month tour of duty in one of the base hospitals. He and I both thought that I should try to get there during his stay. I’d wanted to do something like this for years and it had never happened, so it seemed like here was my chance. Over the years I’ve traveled to other war zones, first in Central America, then Africa, then Asia, and Kosovo and the Middle East. In the course of some of those trips, I have found myself in the company of soldiers, but never Canadians. It excited me to see what it felt like to be among my own people in that kind of situation. I have to say I was very impressed with the sincerity and professionalism I found among the many Canadian Forces members I talked to. They clearly believe in their mission, which they see as one of creating an atmosphere of peace in Afghanistan that would permit development in all its forms. They picture a 30-year process. A whole generation of kids has to grow up in relative security for there to be a sufficient level of education to afford the understanding and expectation of democracy, for example. Our soldiers feel they can succeed at this if given the necessary support. I’m not so sure they can. At the same time, though, how can our increasingly globalized world tolerate the chaos that has been that country’s history? The absence of human rights, especially for women, cries out for change, not to mention the festering sore of a strategically located state run by carpetbaggers and/or religious gangsters.

You have always been involved in humanitarian work. Most of the time, people concentrate on the positive changes you have made, but how has this work changed you?

Cockburn: Over the years I’ve had the good fortune to be involved in helping a lot of people who are committed to bringing positive change to the world. My role has generally been that of mouthpiece. Since I’m lucky enough to have the public visibility I do, I can sometimes be useful in drawing attention to things that need doing and to help generate support for the people and organizations who do the real work. This involvement has taken me to many interesting parts of the world and furthered my education immeasurably. Once in a while a good song comes out of these adventures! The landscapes I’ve walked, the people I’ve met, the relief of having come through a scary situation—all these have given me a very different understanding of myself and the world than I would otherwise have.

You have a reputation as being a restless spirit. How much time do you spend at home in Ontario as opposed to traveling?

Cockburn: I have a pretty cool house in Ontario, which I love being in. It’s the first place I can remember living, in my entire life, that actually feels like more than a base camp. I’m not there very much of the time.

Why did you call the new album Small Source Of Comfort?

Cockburn: When I wrote the song Five Fifty-One I wrote in the second verse, "Small source of comfort, dawn was breaking in the air … You don’t take these things for granted when you think of what’s in need of repair." Sometimes things seem that precarious. The phrase "small source of comfort" jumped out at me. It seemed to want to be an album title. I liked both the sense of hope and its faintness. I figured if nothing came along that said "title!" in a louder voice that the next album would be called that, and there it is.

Call Me Rose is written from the perspective of Richard Nixon. But the twist is he has been reincarnated as a poor, single mom. What inspired that?

Cockburn: I have no idea where Call Me Rose really came from. I woke up one morning with the song in my head, almost complete. I don’t remember having dreamt it, but it was there. I thought it was quite weird, but it seemed like a gift, so I finished it. I think it came out pretty well. With hindsight, I suspect it may have been sparked by what was then a recent campaign by Official (Bush) America to rehabilitate the image of Richard Nixon. Various pundits could be heard to say that he was the greatest president ever, that he was terribly misunderstood, etc. After several weeks the apparent campaign abruptly stopped. People just weren’t buying it. I may have been thinking about what his actual rehabilitation might look like, i.e., the redemption of Richard Nixon’s soul.

You wrote Gifts in 1968 but waited until now to record it. How come now was the right time for you to do so? Did you change it much over the years?

Cockburn: I used to use Gifts to close shows back in the late ’60s. When we made the first album at the end of ’69, Bernie Finkelstein, my manager and the founder of True North Records, asked me about including the song. I thought the album didn’t need it. I responded with, "Oh, I’m saving that one for the last album." Is this the last album? No idea. The first one could have been the last! It just felt like the right time to record it … just in case.

I love the line "I’m good at catching rainbows, not so good at catching trout" from The Iris Of The World. Do you know immediately when you come up with a lyric like that that you did good?

Cockburn: Sometimes a line comes out that feels as though it will touch people strongly. More often I have to live with the ideas and execution for a while before I know what I think I’ve got.

The shorthand description of your music is "folk," but that is really too limiting. How would you describe it? In your mind, how has it changed over the years?

Cockburn: The music is always in a state of flux. It’s the lyrics that mainly determine what the music should be like in any given song. Sometimes things want to go in a folkier direction. Other words need a rockier or jazzier slant. I keep wanting to explore the possibilities wherever that leads. In the beginning, I resisted being called a folksinger, as it seemed to me that the term implied a connection to some specific tradition. I didn’t feel I could make that claim. As time went on, I resigned myself to the idea that labeling is inescapable. They’re going to call you something, and there are worse things than "folksinger."

You are an Officer of the Order Of Canada, a member of the Canadian Music Hall Of Fame and the Canadian Broadcast Hall Of Fame, have been awarded a handful of honorary doctorates in Canada and the U.S., and only about 10 musicians have won more Juno Awards than you. First off, thanks for making the rest of us feel like no-talent losers. But what motivates you to keep going when no one would argue that you have already earned all the time off you want for the rest of your life?

Cockburn:I may have earned the time off, but somebody has to keep buying the food. I expect to retire when I become incapacitated, physically or mentally. I fervently hope I recognize the moment when it comes!

~ from Magnet Magazine - by Eric T. Miller Copyright © MAGNET Magazine Inc. 2011.


Beat Route - Bruce Cockburn - Small Source of Comfort
By Spencer Brown

11 March 2011 - "There hasn't been a lot of it," responds Bruce Cockburn when asked how his morning has been, "but, so far, so good." This kind reply comes from a man who holds various honorary degrees, is counted as an Officer of the Order of Canada and is also a major influence on songwriters both at home and abroad. It's the same kind of slow but steady approach that has spawned his latest album, Small Source of Comfort.

"The theme is of journey," he ventures of his latest album, which is six years in the making, "of road travel and that's a constant as all these songs have road references. Perhaps the song that sums the album up the most is Boundless (co-written with Montreal's Annabelle Chvostek), where the road is a metaphor, filled with the imagery from travelling and the feelings of encountering those things. The song has a modern orientation. It's really more a statement, life as a journey."

Cockburn notes that his life as a musician has always involved a journey in some way or another. "Back in the early ‘70s, my first wife and I lived in a camper for the first half of the ‘70s. We traveled back and forth across Canada, because in those days, I organized my tours differently then the way I do now." However, he has become nostalgic of that in recent years.

"It happened coincidentally that I had an American girlfriend in Brooklyn," he explains of his return to the road. "So, there I was, commuting between Kingston and Brooklyn, taking day-long drives through New York and Pennsylvania. Then she moved to San Francisco, so now it's six day drive. And it has satisfied that hunger for the road in a wonderful way."

"The songs were all being written on one or two day drives and all the lyrics predate move to San Francisco. Iris of the World, reflects the drive to Kingston and Brooklyn."

The travelogue on Small Source of Comfort isn't solely confined to crossing the border. The Comets of Kandahar is one of two tracks reflecting Bruce Cockburn's trip to Afghanistan. "My brother is an Emergency Room anesthesiologist. He thought that as the kind of doctor he was, the army needed his expertise. So, as a 50-something year-old, he went through basic training and then to Afghanistan for a six-month tour. We each badgered the army until I was accepted into the ‘Team Canada’."

"We went for a week and got to perform for the troops. One of the bases they took us to was a practice range and they let us shoot some stuff, which," laughs Cockburn, "is a very long build-up to the title." The comets to which he refers are the nickname given by Canadian soldiers to jet fighters taking off at night. "I loved the phrase and the image, because it's just such a spectacular phrase."

The other song based on his Afghan experience is Each One Lost, which deals with witnessing the Ramp Ceremony of two Canadian soldier's remains being sent home.

"That song is at other end of the spectrum. I've never seen such tragedy and to have it treated with such honour and dignity. There was just such a deep feeling among the troops during this ramp ceremony." Almost immediately, Cockburn muses that Each One Lost and If I had a Rocket Launcher are similar, in that "the two songs in a way, form a bracket to several decades. ‘If I Had a Rocket Launcher’ is about being victimized by troops in Guatemala. It was in terms of my own feelings, my reaction to a situation was so intense, it had to form a song. And so did being on Kandahar Airfield for that ceremony, so in that way, they're a pair."

For anyone even passingly familiar with Bruce Cockburn's work, his political sensibilities are ever present. "Politics," he quips, "are inescapable part of life. So as they end up in the songs, they do so based on my own direct involvement in issues. If someone asks if I can help them along if I can get behind it. I will if I can. All the political stuff I've accepted are those kind of involvements. I may be more skeptical of anyone able to change the way the world's going, but that being said, it's worth going after those things and helping the genuine things like the environment and improving the lives of people."

Given that Cockburn's career has spanned more years than this writer's life, Cockburn acknowledges that he sees people his own age at shows.

"These are people who have been listening since the beginning although some people begin to tune in after a bit. The US audience got bigger after Stealing Fire but I'm usually among people my own age with a Canadian crowd. These are people who have been listening since the ‘70s and sometimes, I find it amazing that I've survived all this, that they still listen." That doesn't mean that newer fans are spurned, either: "I'm grateful for young people. I don't want me and my audience to die together."

Of course, you can't release a road trip album and not tour, so fans can look forward to seeing Bruce Cockburn in a variety of venues across the country. "Both the drummer and violinist who are both on the album greatly aid in making everything more energetic and musically interesting," reveals Cockburn. "It's been five years ago or so since I toured with a band." He pauses to grin, "I'm actually really looking forward to making a slightly louder noise this time around."

~ from Beat Route by By Spencer Brown. Here are the Tour Dates.

8 March 2011 - During a career that stretches back to the late 1960s, Canadian singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn has explored introspective mysticism and political protest within a musical framework that encompasses everything from classic folk fingerpicking to a dizzying jazz/folk/rock hybrid. A dazzling guitarist and poetic lyricist, Cockburn is the recipient of numerous Juno Awards (the Canadian equivalent of a Grammy), and has experienced the dubious glories of Top 40 hits and MTV airplay. He’s yet to release an album that is anything less than beautifully played and lyrically challenging. These days he splits his time between Canada and the U.S. and dreams of Richard Nixon. Paste caught up with Cockburn, discussing the release of Small Source of Comfort, his 31st album.

Paste: The song that I suspect will elicit the most commentary on your new album Small Source of Comfort is Call Me Rose, where you envision Richard Nixon reincarnated as a poor single woman with two kids in the projects. Can you tell me what inspired that song?
Bruce Cockburn: Well, you’re probably not going to like the answer. Honestly, it came to me in a dream. I woke up and the song was just there, pretty much fully formed. That’s only happened to me once or twice in the past. The first verse—the one where Richard Nixon is reincarnated as a poor single woman with two kids—was definitely right there when I woke up. And I couldn’t even tell you precisely what inspired it. I think, at the time, there may have been an effort underway at the U.S. State Department to rehabilitate the image of Richard Nixon, so that may have been in the back of my mind. But who knows? It was a strange experience. Songs don’t usually come to me that way.

Paste: What’s prompted the emphasis on instrumentals over the past few albums? You’ve always incorporated instrumentals as part of your music, but it seems like the past few years, with Speechless, the all-instrumental album, and the five instrumentals that appear on Small Source of Comfort, that there’s been a greater focus. Is there anything behind that?
Cockburn: I don’t know. It’s probably too early to call it a trend. We’ll see what happens. I usually start with the words, and then build the songs from there. But there were a number of songs this time that just came out as instrumentals. And, as you say, I’ve always incorporated instrumentals in my albums. But there were just a few more of them this time that presented themselves that way. Playing with Jenny Scheinman might have had something to do with it. She’s a wonderful violinist, and several of those instrumentals emerged through those collaborations, just playing off of one another.

Paste: She’s great. Let me ask you a little more about Jenny. I wasn’t familiar with her work before this album, and I was really impressed. I know she’s worked with Bill Frisell in the past, and you’ve worked with Bill as well. Was he the connecting point for you?
Cockburn: Not directly. I think the first time we met was at a Mountain Stage concert. I was on the bill, and Jenny was playing with Rodney Crowell. So that’s the first time I saw her. The next time was in New York. I was dating a woman in Brooklyn, and we were passing by The Village Vanguard in Manhattan, and it turned out that Jenny’s name was on the marquee. So we listened again. And I really liked what she was doing. So just through that process—listening to this great jazz violinist, getting to know her a bit—we decided to collaborate on this album. She’ll be playing with me on this upcoming tour as well.

Paste: You’re known, for better or worse, as a very serious songwriter. Obviously, songs like Call It Democracy and If I Had a Rocket Launcher have contributed to that reputation. But on the new album you have a funny take on our busy lives (Called Me Back), and the line about the Nixon/Single Mom selling her memoirs in Call Me Rose made me laugh out loud. Is this a looser, more fun-loving Bruce Cockburn we’re seeing?
Cockburn: [laughs] Yeah, maybe. Maybe I got all that angry young man angst out of my system when I was an angry young man. But, you know, I’d like to think that I’ve always incorporated some humor in my music. Even some of the early albums from the ‘70s had songs like The Blues Got the World by The Balls and Mama Just Wants to Barrelhouse. So I don’t think it’s necessarily anything new. And honestly, a lot of the angry, political stuff has already been said. The players change, but it’s still the same world, you know. So maybe this time I decided to take a little more lighthearted look at the darkness. But it wasn’t anything conscious on my part.

Paste: You noted in the press materials that you had anticipated that this album would be raw and electric. It turned out introspective and acoustic. Can you describe your songwriting process, and what might have prompted the changes from your original intentions?
Cockburn: I did think, initially, that maybe it was time to mix it up sonically. But there’s no formula here, and you just have to see where the songs take you. And we ended up with an acoustic, fairly introspective album that isn’t all that different from what I was doing in the 1970s. Some of it was just my physical and geographical surroundings. I was spending a lot of my time in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn, and there was just no opportunity to turn up the volume without incurring the wrath of the neighbors. You work with what you’ve got.

Paste: Two of the songs on the new album were written out of the experiences of your recent trip to Afghanistan. How did the trip to Afghanistan come about?
Cockburn: Well, it was just a short trip that happened three years ago. It only lasted a week. And it came about because of my brother. He’s an emergency room anaesthesiologist, and he signed up for a 6-month tour of duty with the Canadian army in Kandahar. He pestered on his end, and I pestered on my end, and eventually the army agreed to the visit. And I hate to say it, given the serious circumstances, but we had a lot of fun. But there were some serious moments, as well. The day we arrived in Afghanistan, at the staging area, we watched a plane come in bearing the coffins of two Canadian soldiers who had been killed. And we were privileged to witness what they called the Ramp ceremony. And, you know, there were recorded bagpipes, and prayers, and tears. It was difficult.

Regardless of how you view the conflict, or whatever your political views, it was very evident to me that these soldiers were doing the best they could do, making the best out of a place where they didn’t want to be. And that ceremony really helped to put it in perspective. You think, God, these kids could have been my kids. And the song Each One Lost came out of that. It was a good visit. It was hell. I’m glad I was there.

Paste: I’d like to ask you about a song that goes back 13 or 14 years now, a song from your album The Charity of Night. I want to ask you about Strange Waters, which is a song I come back to again and again, at least partly because of the startling imagery and the twist in the title. There’s a biblical reference there, as you know, but you take the imagery of one of the best-known Psalms and change it from "still waters" to "strange waters." Can you comment about that song’s meaning to you, specifically in light of the spiritual imagery that you use?
Cockburn: Okay. Well, if you live a life where you’re trying to figure out what the existence of the divine means, and trying to live in accordance with that, my experience has been that you’re going to encounter a lot of beauty and a lot of weird shit. And that song was an attempt to come to grips with the weird shit. You’re right that it references the 23rd Psalm. But I hadn’t encountered still waters. I had encountered strange waters. And my take is that it’s going to continue to be strange. It’s funny that you brought that up. I hadn’t been singing that song, but I just recently started singing it again. Maybe it’s because I’m very aware of the strangeness these days.

Paste: Following up on that idea, during the course of your career, you’ve written time and time again about your travels to foreign locations—Japan, Italy, Central America, Cambodia, and Afghanistan. It’s also evident that those travels have impacted your understanding of and appreciation for different cultures. And yet your early albums were marked by mysticism and introspection. I realize that these issues are never completely clear-cut and black and white, and they’re not in your music either, but was there a turning point in your life where you chose to shift the focus from a sort of inward isolation to a more outward engagement with the world? And if so, what brought about the change?
Cockburn: You’re correct that there was a turning point. It coincided with my divorce in the late ‘70s. You know, that just turned my world upside down. It was something I never expected, never thought would happen. And then it did. And I had to make some major adjustments. Up to that point I’d mostly been living in the country, living inside my head. And I realized then that introspection had gone as far as it was going to go. I needed to get involved with people. I needed to be where people were. So I moved to Toronto. And shortly after that I started getting involved with organizations where that travel became a way to get more connected. Of course, there’s a balance in all this, and I’ve never totally lost that introspective side. This new album was recorded at least partly because I realized that I needed to find that self-reflective mode again.

Paste: You’ve been at this for more than 40 years now. During that time, your music has obviously evolved and adapted. But how do you think you yourself have changed during that time? What parts of the guy who recorded High Winds, White Sky and Sunwheel Dance are still there? What parts have changed? What would the Bruce Cockburn of 1970 have to say to the Bruce Cockburn of 2011? What would the Bruce Cockburn of 2011 have to say to the Bruce Cockburn of 1970?
Cockburn: [laughs] There’s nothing like summarizing a life! Well, I think the Bruce Cockburn of 1970 would say, "Oh, my God, what are you doing?" And the Bruce Cockburn of 2011 would say "What an idiot!" You know that cliché about youth being wasted on the young? It’s true.

When I think back on it, the Bruce Cockburn of 1970 wasn’t very good at being with people. I didn’t communicate very well, and I didn’t understand others very well. But deep down I’m still the same person. I’d like to think that I’ve grown up. And so much of this is just living life, learning the lessons that are common to everyone who gets older. It’s still unfolding. I’m not done. I hope that I can learn to be more kind.

~from Paste Magazine interview by Andy Whitman.

8 March 2011 - Along with the release today of Small Source of Comfort, come many online interviews. Here are the links to just a few: