POP MUSIC REVIEW : Newbury--an Affecting, Gentle Return

Mickey Newbury’s first local appearance in 16 years was as gentle and affecting Tuesday night as his songs.

Wearing a dark suit and tie as he walked on stage at the Roxy, the gray-haired Newbury, now 48, looked more like a successful executive than a one-time member of a revolutionary Nashville songwriting contingent that helped enrich both country and pop music.

Influenced equally by Hank Williams and Bob Dylan, Newbury wrote songs in the ‘60s and ‘70s about memories (both sad and sweet) and about dreams (both lost and still held) with a remarkable blend of traditional and contemporary pop instincts.

The best songs ranged from the deeply rooted country music emotion and despair of “Sweet Memories” to the more pop and rock-accented literary sophistication of “Heaven Help the Child” and “The Thirty-third of August.”

Though Newbury’s songs were recorded by artists as far-ranging as Elvis Presley, Willie Nelson and Louis Armstrong, the Texan never enjoyed the personal fame of sidekick Kris Kristofferson--partly because he rarely toured and partly because his music didn’t fit neatly into the strict pop, rock or country radio formats. His only album to crack the national Top 100 was a 1971 collection whose sales spurt, ironically, was tied largely to a song medley he arranged but didn’t write: “An American Trilogy.”

By the end of the ‘70s, Newbury had adopted a low profile--living in Oregon and rarely even going into the studio. Until a just-released collection of old tunes on Airborne Records, he hadn’t made an album in 7 years.

His current 6-city tour and new album represent an attempt to reintroduce himself to pop audiences and to see if there is now an audience for his own records.

For someone away from the spotlight for so long, Newbury seemed unusually relaxed and in fine voice as he sat on a straight-back chair and opened his 90-minute set with what seemed like a carefully planned sequence of new and old songs.

During a pause between numbers early in the show, however, someone in the audience shouted the title of one of the songwriter’s best-known compositions--”San Francisco Mabel Joy,” a 1969 tale about the loss of innocence.

Rather than simply acknowledge the request with a nod and proceed with his own agenda, Newbury graciously began singing the song. Apparently enjoying that spontaneity, Newbury later asked the audience for other requests and he devoted a full half-hour to singing them.

In his early ‘70s appearances here, there was a delicate, timid edge to his manner that made him seem like a man who didn’t quite know his place or standing in the pop world. Time, however, has given Newbury a security about his work.

Joined by concert violinist Marie Rhines on several numbers, Newbury--playing a guitar equipped with a device that enables him to employ orchestral sounds--sang with both a touch of pride and determination.

Newbury is playing on this tour to a proven audience. The show was sponsored by the National Academy of Songwriters and everyone in the modest turnout seemed to know most of the material, but Newbury already seemed to be looking forward to reaching new fans.

“Ain’t No Blues Today”--one of several promising new songs that he expects to record next year--is a tribute to country music great Lefty Frizzell that incorporates references to blues and jazz musicians in a way that underscores the emotional link of these musical forms.

Newbury can be overly sentimental (notably an anniversary song to his wife), but his best work carries a convincing ring. He can relate in one song to a blind street singer in the South (“Cortelia Clark”) and in another to Fitzgerald in Paris in the ‘20s (“Heaven Help the Child”) without seeming false or out of character.

Beyond exploring human relationships and emotions in his songs, Newbury frequently looks at the soothing and uplifting powers of music itself. In the disarming “How I Love Them Old Songs,” he sings, “Doggone my soul, how I love them old songs / ‘Cause they were a comfort to me when I was alone / The dancin’ stops but the music goes on / Doggone my soul, how I love them old songs.”

For all the distinctions that commercial pop merchants make between rock, jazz, blues, country, folk and other musical styles, there is a unifying sense of tradition reflected in the humanity and craft of our finest American songwriters--a hint of the melodic effortlessness and beauty of Stephen Foster.

Newbury is part of that rich, wide-ranging field of American writers, including Randy Newman and Tom Waits, and it is good to hear his voice again.