The Day The River Sang

John Stewart may appreciate the rewards of eBay’s current ad campaign, which is embedding "Daydream Believer," his 1968 #1 hit for The Monkees, in a new generation’s consciousness, but it’s a misleading calling card for the singer-songwriter described as "a master wordsmith who captures the soul of America in his songs" by Billboard.

Since leaving the Kingston Trio, preceding the careers of Prine, Kristofferson, Springsteen, Earle, and the rise of the Americana movement, Stewart has written and recorded more than 50 albums of stripped down songs of everyday saints and sinners, their moments of elation and desperation, and of our country’s natural beauties and toxic political undercurrents. He’s recorded with Johnny Cash, and had his own songs recorded by Johnny’s daughter Rosanne and many others.

This latest collection of new Stewart originals affirms John’s powers as a master painter of indelible pictures in song. Using the warm leads and brushstrokes of his own guitars, his longtime rhythm section, and dabs of keyboards, harmonica and backing voices, Stewart applies a similarly understated approach to his lyrics and vocals. Now in his mid-60s, Stewart invests the opening love song, "Baby, It’s You," with a sense of relief and gratitude a younger man might lack. But the youthful gleam in his eye is unmistakable on the frisky "Amanda Won’t Dance." The pull between heart and highway is frequently felt, as in the lovely "Jasmine," on which John’s weathered tenor swoops into a sweet falsetto. One would be hard-pressed to find a more poignant elegy for the pre-Hurricane Katrina Crescent City than "New Orleans," with its heartbroken piano accompaniment and regret-filled vocals.

With their musical roots in folk, country, rock and bluegrass, John’s songs frequently encompass subjects stretching from the sky above to the mud below. "The Day the River Sang" includes a terse character study of the "junkies and jockeys" at "Golden Gate Fields," and the lightly jazzy "Slider," which watches a good girl go wrong. On the metaphysical end of the spectrum, the title track is a vision of paradise and peace, while "Sister Mercy" is a plea for direction in troubling times. In between are John’s tribute to his muse, "Naked Angel on a Star-Crossed Train," the propulsive tragicomedy of "Midnight Train," and a new version of "Run the Ridges," from his Trio days.