Although the bright yellow light of midmorning cut through the blinds, I, still groggy from the previous night's surprises, kept an eye closed tightly and rolled over. Springsteen and I continued walking down Freehold's empty streets. The inching cold of dusk hung in the air even at midday and prospects of anything brighter were slim. Not knowing if I would have the chance again, I turned to the Boss and asked him why he was so quick to leave the quirky, complex beauty of his early albums for the almost formulaic pop of his later work. Always the performer, Springsteen went on for some time about the musical landscape of the early seventies and the inner workings of the business. But while he enjoyed those carefree days, he always longed to return to the simple, vivid stories told by his hero, Woody Guthrie.

"If so," I responded, "when you finally did return to the bare essence of folk music, why couldn't you remember that those stories were also poetically dark and accompanied by guitar work almost equally as compelling?"

Bruce paused for a moment, but before he could formulate an answer, he was gone. The unique sights and smells of my own apartment supplanted those of New Jersey and I was awake. Surprisingly, Richard Buckner's Since played on the stereo. Buckner, a San Franciscan tooling around long enough to release three albums and create a sizable murmur in the Northwest, is one of more than enough singer- songwriters making their way down the folk- rock pathway blazed by the likes of Jackson Browne. But at his best, Buckner invokes the spirit of Townes Van Zandt more than Browne, and finds that comfortable blend of modern folk that eludes Springsteen.

A slightly more upbeat effort from Buckner, Since highlights his strengths (which are enough to elicit the compliments above), as well as his weaknesses. In fact, the album opens with a weakness and almost doesn't recover. Buckner's voice-- a fragile combination of Paul Westerberg's purposeful insecurity and Van Zandt's endearing tunelessness-- while perfect for the inspiring "Once," isn't strong enough to withstand guitar rockers like the opener, "Believer." Buckner does slowly manage to win back the listener with his many talents as a writer and performer, but the key word here is "slowly." The quiet beauty of "Slept" and "Pico" allow Buckner to shine, capturing one's ear long enough for the rousing "Coursed," which very faintly recalls Uncle Tupelo's "Long Cut."

Buckner fills out the album ably, though like our friend Springsteen, he finds shaky ground where folk and rock meet. Springsteen, the archetypical stadium rocker, could never quite go folk again, while Buckner, the talented folkie, overextends himself when he plugs in the amps. An album that never quite finds itself, Since is a testament to his difficulties.

-Neil Lieberman