In "Lost Among the Ruins," for example, a fatalistic/optimistic song about growing older and more reflective, some straightforward strum 'n' jangle is offset by overlapping harmony vocals and snatches of spoken dialogue cropping up in the background as if to suggest conflicting internal monologues. The atmospheric plea for understanding and social justice that is "Birmingham Jail" wouldn't be out of place on a Daniel Lanois/Emmylou Harris project, its serene vibe undercut by an unsettling feeling of unfinished business. And "Houses Flying," with edgy drum loops, groaning bass and cello and off-kilter samples (street sounds, construction noises, Hoekstra's parents talking), is the perfect sonic analogue to the lyrical story line in which a visit to the hometown prompts a myriad of childhood memories. Elsewhere Hoekstra touches down in Dylan territory (the wry, lost-love sentiments of "Desdemona") and even submits a Dylan cover ("Isis," featuring Hoekstra and guest vocalist Colleen Kave swapping/sharing verses and additionally benefiting from the unexpected inclusion of sax, clarinet and muted trumpet to the freewheeling shanty's arrangement) that does the Bard of Minnesota proud.
By seeking out eclectic territories that aren't hewn in by your typical singer-songwriter barbed wire while maintaining a solid narrative focus and melodic sensibility -- think a perfectionism-obsessed Lou Reed gone folkie, or a more tuneful Tom Waits in a less caustic mood -- Hoekstra defies the common wisdom that says practitioners of his chosen genre will forever be destined for the coffee-house and bookstore circuit. In a sense, that makes him a role model for the next generation of up-and-comers. You ready to shoulder that burden, Doug?
