Gorka Finds Meaning in the Margins

Writing in the Margins
John Gorka
(Red House Records)

The strength of folk singer John Gorka's songwriting always has been his ability to tell stories that exhibit a painter's eye for detail and a poet's heart. Gorka, a New Jersey native who now resides in Minnesota, also has written these songs without losing the pulse of the regular folks who are at their center. In his earlier work, Gorka wrote about farmers being forced (or enticed) to sell their land by developers ("Houses in the Fields"). He wrote about the gentrification of his neighborhood ("Where the Bottles Break"). He even wrote a song about having his guitar stolen in Pittsburgh, where they have "the Steelers, the Pirates and the thieves."

Through his 10 albums, Gorka has shown a soft spot for rank and file soldiers. In "Semper Fi," he wrote about his father's convalescence after World War II. On the title track of his 1993 album, "Temporary Road," he sang about a soldier skating on a frozen river as he contemplated his departure for the Persian Gulf War. Thirteen years and another Gulf War later, Gorka reminds us on the title track of his latest album, "Writing in the Margins," that war is more than something that appears on CNN with mind-numbing regularity.

War is often simply described as hell, which somehow always fails to mention that it's living hell for those who fight it. This is where Gorka focuses his war reportage, on a soldier who is writing a love letter in his downtime. He might be physically writing in a book, but he's figuratively pushed to the edge of the page in more ways than one. His time to write comes when duty isn't calling. That duty is pushing him to the edge of his sanity. In society, he falls outside of the ranks of the privileged, because as we know, "There aren't a lot of rich boys / Wearing DCUs and sand" (DCUs are Desert Camouflage Uniforms).

Unlike a fair number of socially conscious singers, Gorka chooses a clever approach rather than a confrontational one. Where Neil Young pens "Let's Impeach the President," on this year's "Living With War," Gorka gives us "Bluer State," a bouncy double entendre that plays off the mass media's political lingo to convey how he's been feeling since the 2004 presidential election. He chooses to stay optimistic, though.

"Writing in the Margins," isn't all political. Like any singer-songwriter worth his salt, Gorka touches on matters of the heart in "Broken Place," "Satellites" and "Arms Length."

The disc has a fuller sound than many singer-songwriter records, as Gorka is joined by a full band: Tommy Barbarella on keyboards, J.T. Bates on drums and Dirk Freymuth on guitar. Alice Peacock, Kathleen Johnson, Lucy Kaplansky and Nanci Griffith lend vocal backing, and Eric Heywood (Son Volt) sits in on pedal steel.

Gorka rarely records covers, but shows exquisite taste here with his versions of Townes Van Zandt's love song "Snow Don't Fall" and Stan Rogers' nautical-flavored "The Lockkeeper."

Gorka even takes a few chances. "I Miss Everyone" takes a stab at country. While the wordplay is clever, it's a little difficult getting used to Gorka's rich, expressive baritone in a different musical context, even at times sounding as though the music is a bit too hurried for his laconic vocals. He's more successful with his experiments in classic soul/R&B territory. "When You Sing," which even features a horn section, was inspired by a chance meeting with Mavis Staples at a music festival in 2005. He says in the liner notes that upon meeting Staples he told her, "When you sing, you make the world a better place," an undisputably accurate statement that could apply to Gorka himself.

Sometimes making the world a better place means asking questions. Near the end of "Writing in the Margins," Gorka does so in a familiar forum. On "Road of Good Intentions," which raises more than a few questions about the current war in Iraq, he sings, "I always come back to the soldiers / With their courage and ideals / I see them smoking in the airport / There's no telling how it feels."

We on the homefront can never know how it feels. But Gorka's likely to keep writing, touring and reporting back on his records with empathy that's too rarely found on 24-hour cable news. He'll continue to write about the little guys affected by decisions made by those up on high. He'll do so with an uncommon compassion, waiting for the rest of humanity to catch up.