Completed after his death in 2002, Blue To This Day is nonetheless of a piece with the rest of Mickey Newbury’s splendid catalog. It affords one final chance to enjoy the studio presence of this quintessential American singer-songwriter, but it also provides his perfectly attuned musical confederates with the opportunity to perform in tandem with and in tribute to an irreplaceable inspiration and friend.
To engage the full legacy of American song on this level requires a master craftsman, as adept at reimagining field hollers as at channeling the better instincts of Tin Pan Alley’s elite. To succeed as Newbury does here requires a multifaceted Everyman, as comfortable with the cadences of the barroom as with those of the country church and the upscale concert hall.
Three songs are familiar from earlier recordings: “Song Of Sorrow”, “Remember The Good” and “Goodnight”. Here, they serve admirably to reinforce the album’s twin threads of memory and dream. Two more, “Shuck And Jive” and “Down And Dirty”, seem to be mood lighteners, exercises in riding the groove.
The rest of the collection is freshly minted, prime Newbury. “Little Blue Robin” is a lovely, unsentimental avian fairy tale, complete with whistling warble to honor the feathered originators of song. “Help Me Son” is a fascinatingly allusive (and illusive) dramatic plea that demands and rewards careful scrutiny, with its Moebius strip narrative.
“All The Neon Lights Are Blue” is one last burst of light near journey’s end. Newbury brings all his interpretive powers to bear on this song of the road, the dream, and the revelation at their twin cores. There’s power and release in this vocal, conjuring once again that sense of passionate serenity which shaped so much of his work.
As with many Newbury recordings, this one is rich in atmospherics, from the signature rain and train-track clatter to the singer’s back-porch fade on the hidden track. We’re given a world as real and vital as our next breath. The arrangements further this sense of a tangible, rich and varied place, from the roadhouse grit of “House Of Blues”, through the parlor music delicacy and grace of “Remember The Good” and “Goodnight”, to the gospel chorus dignity of “Brother Peter”.
It is unclear whether the hidden track — Stephen Foster’s “Beautiful Dreamer” for strings and piano — was Newbury’s selection or a poignant tip-of-the-hat from grateful colleagues. Certainly Newbury greatly admired his 19th-century predecessor, and Foster’s title is a most fitting handle for his fellow lodger in the Tower Of Song. May dreams such as theirs live forever.
