“Old sayings are notoriously reliable. Except when they aren’t. As children we’re told that lightening doesn’t strike the same place twice. But any freshman college meteorology course teaches us that lightening actually strikes multiple times in the exact same location each and every time it strikes. I am reminded of this scientific fact as I listen to Rebecca Newton’s second album, “Riding Ponies to the Moon.”



When I met Rebecca she was in the process of recording her first solo album, “Blue Shirt.” She and I were just getting to know one another but I was quickly drawn to her. Her magnetic presence. Her curious, ever optimistic nature. Her generosity of spirit. And the voice. The voice.



So, when Rebecca gave me a copy of that then freshly-minted album I was excited to take a listen. I was also somewhat trepid. A friend gives you their new recording, you must give it a proper listen, right? You must find a song or two you like, right? You must find something positive you can say. You must.



And let me quickly add that to create and produce most any album is a magical thing. But… well… What if deep down I didn’t particularly like this album of my newish friend? With that question looming I set the needle down on the unmarked vinyl rotating in front of me.  



I was far more than relieved; more than delightfully surprised. I was in love. And in awe. There wasn’t a toss away track on the entire effort. I loved each and every song. And while there were a couple of very brilliant, it was all just a degree of brilliance. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. In the best way.



And now as I hit play on this, her second solo effort — Riding Ponies to the Moon — I am delighted to find the scientists are right. Lightening has struck again. Once again, there’s not a throw away in the bunch. I plead with you to sit down quietly in your most comfortable seat, turn the lights down low and grab your favorite beverage (get the good stuff; now is no time to be cheap). Then hit play.



It is a story. A journey. The score to the arc of a lifetime of love and loss. Deep heartbreak and exuberant joy. I’m hardly proficient enough of a writer to sum it up. The songs. The pacing. The lyrics (“me and my words we get along” may be one of the greatest understatements of all time). The music. The musicians. Oh, the musicians.



And, of course, the voice. Takes you in and surrounds you. Sweet kisses on a salty forehead. The voice.

Another lightning bolt to the heart.

Thankfully, old sayings are often wrong.

– David Burney