In 2015 Joe Goodkin embarked on a project that he now describes as “a turning point for me and my career”: a trilogy of six-song EPs titled Record Of Life / Record Of Loss / Record Of Love. In that moment, the singer-songwriter chose to sing his powerful, reflective, insightful lyrics accompanied only by his electric guitar, multi-tracking strums and picked notes, sustain and feedback to create the only sonic textures present other than his voice. This evocative, inherently lonely approach served to further amplify the emotion of the songs, which reach for and grasp deep truths about his three subjects, comprising the very core of what it means to be human: life, loss, love.
A few years back I reviewed Record Of Loss, a stunning collection of songs about grief. At the time I wondered how these stark, intense songs might have fared in a band setting. Would they translate to a larger context with more varied sonic textures, or was the sense of isolation and focus conveyed by Goodkin’s original choices in fact an essential part of the songs’ power?
It seems Joe Goodkin wondered the same thing (for more of the backstory, see our recent interview). His new six-song, self-titled EP revisits two songs from each of the three Record Of… EPs, reframing them in full band arrangements informed by almost a decade of Goodkin performing the songs live.
Curious as I was to hear these new versions, I also worried that something might be lost by adding fuller instrumentation. The power of the original recordings is amplified by their restraint, placing total emphasis on the intimacy and directness of the lyrics, which Goodkin sings with disarming vulnerability. Thankfully, the news here is all good: yes, these arrangements have more textures and layers and sonic variety than the previous versions did, but Goodkin’s powerful words remain front and center, with the added instrumentation used as a kind of emotional accelerant, adding emphasis to particularly important or poignant moments.
It’s only fitting when the songs are this raw and tender: stories about deep connections forged in blood and love, about how we honor a life, and how we cope with loss.
Opener “Gray” is a powerful number about caring for aging loved ones—a beloved old dog, grandpa, grandma. And then, as the song’s momentum steadily grows, as the layers of instruments he’s been adding accumulate (acoustic guitar, piano, bass and drums, joined in the late going by a string quartet), Goodkin turns the question back on himself and his wife: how will it go when we, too, grow old and gray? “How do we say goodbye,” he sings, “When we have the chance to write / The last words of a precious life / How do we know to say goodbye?”
Oof.
“As Old As I Am Now” (from Record Of Life), explores the inversions and mirror effects created by aging and reflection. Goodkin remembers his father and older relatives and grasps a pair of reality-distorting eternal truths: they were all once the age he is now, and one day in the future, he will be the age they are now. “And I looked at all the smiles of the people who shaped my life / And I knew someday they’d all be gone / And once they were as old as I am now.” Acoustic guitar, bass, drums and organ form the foundation here, with vibes adding a sprinkle of lightness to an otherwise elegiac tune.
“Sarah And Julie” celebrates resilience in the face of hardship, chronicling the lives of two loved ones who faced tough diagnoses: “Don’t say she lost, don't say it when / Everyone loses the fight in the end / Say that she won for the way that she lived / Let us be judged by the love that we give.” This steady-building number closes with an explosive release of emotion and the one big guitar solo on this EP, right where it belongs.
From Record Of Love, “My Mother’s Voice” features a steady pulse, with piano and strings adding weight to each line on a song about the legacies—genetic and otherwise—that we carry on from our parents and grandparents. “Now the generations turn and we’ve moved up a place / All along I’ve tried to learn how to be less afraid / Of saying what I mean and singing what I feel / Of living what I dream and making my hopes real.” Just gorgeous.
Strummed acoustic, resonant organ and a slow, steady snare open “Never Come Back,” a gentle dirge about loss—specifically, the day Goodkin’s father’s father walked out the door and never made it back home. As horns come in, he recalls the lesson his father took from the tragedy: “And I wish I’d spoken up / And said I love you all / Because you never know when someone might walk out of your life / And never come back.”
“Ashes” opens up like a celebratory anthem, big guitars and strings and drums, as Goodkin describes a pretty sunset before zooming in on the purpose of the family gathering—to spread the ashes of two grandparents and an uncle. As the music swells further, Goodkin moves into the final stanzas of the song, and the record:
“All three of them left us in the blink of an eye
One after another, after another they were gone
I felt helpless to do anything so I did what I could
And remembered them in songNow I put my hands in their earthly remains
And toss the gray grit into the breeze
I’m not a religious man but I say a prayer anyway
May their ghosts be together and freeThis is how we say goodbye
This is how we say goodbye
This is how we say goodbye to those we love”
It’s a note-perfect finish for the EP, answering the question posed in the closing lines of opener “Gray.”
You’ve heard variations on it in a dozen movies about artists: “I just want/need/am looking for something real.” Joe Goodkin is real from its first note to its last: honest, heartfelt, deeply moving and, in its most vivid moments, downright magnificent. It’s no coincidence this EP is self-titled; it represents a new high-water mark for the very talented Joe Goodkin.