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Rounders’ Road
Mikel Miller
LEA/JEN Music
written by Erling Friis-Baastad
It’s always exciting to be on hand when an artist finds his or her voice,
especially if you have followed their career for years, watched them
struggle ever closer to that special manuscript,
recording, exhibition, or performance that is so obviously and uniquely
theirs.Yukoner Mikel Miller’s most recent CD, Rounders’ Road, is just such a
moment.
He is arriving now… no, that’s wrong. He’s arriving, yes, but back in 1969,
or better yet, closer to 1960. The grown-up singer songwriter’s got the
hopes and romantic notions of a blues/folk singer of those by-gone days,
without the naiveté, it seems. That is, Miller may sound old fashioned, but
that’s because he sings about what endures: taking chances on love and
friendship, shoestring journeys, art, late nights, early mornings, and tough
old cars:
Miller may be “just an old buffalo singing the dinosaur blues” as the Steven
Fromholz song recorded on this CD has it. But remember, though the beasts
may have come to a sudden end, the buffalo and the dinosaurs thrived much
longer than we have. One of the reasons this CD is more Mikel than his
previous recordings — like the cassette, No More Trains and the CD, The Key
— is, I suspect, partly because of some talented, supportive people who
participated in Rounders’ Road. That’s not a self-contradiction. These
people, like Miller’s longtime pal, the singer-songwriter Norm Hacking, and
the other musicians and vocalists (Kevin Bell, John Yelland, Rob Andrews,
Frank Barth, Marie Gogo, Jerry Tupis) seem to have catalyzed or freed
something in Miller. They have, perhaps subconsciously, given him the
courage to begin replacing a somewhat plaintive and tentative tone with a
more inviting and assured voice. And it takes courage to sing, as Miller
does, of loving until it hurts (in an age of “self” and singles bars and
“personal space,”), and of an urge for rambling (instead of being
responsible voters, consumers and board members). In an age when the most
successful folks seem willing to manipulate truth to win our bucks and
votes, Miller cautions: “You gotta look a little harder now.” Then, in such
wise works as Hand In the Game, Something You Never Knew, and Leah’s Song he
firmly, but gently redirects our gaze all the way back toward what counts.
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