Peter Kingsbery

Musical tastes vary from person to person, from age to age, and from generation to generation – with everyone having something to say, one way or another, about musicians. Defenders and detractors alike will sometimes even give more of their emotions than the musicians they are talking about. Needless to say music affects us all.

I’m not going to tell you that Peter Kingsbery is the best songwriter you’ve never heard or that the mainstream music scene has overlooked his talent or that Cock Robin never got its fair break. I want to tell you what his music has meant to me.

A message in a bottle.

Simply put, Peter Kingsbery crafted his words & music into songs and then cast them off into the world, not knowing who or if anyone would hear it. Somehow, through serendipity or providence, my 15 year-old ears found them, as have many others, starting with the self-titled debut in 1985, which I played on my record player so much so I needed to buy the cassette (still have both).

Then came the lush production of “After Here Through Midland” followed by the deeply emotional “First Love / Last Rites”. The songs on those recordings seemed to have to come at times in my life when they meant more than just catchy melodies. The words and emotions connected.

“A Different Man” could not have come at a more appropriate time in my life when I was on my own and knowing there was a change in me through my experiences in life and love. The haunting tones of “Once In A Million” resonated with my life at the time and the partial looking back and reworking pieces of my life were reflected in “Pretty Ballerina”.

With “Mon Inconnue”, I was given the pleasure to experience what so many others from around the world whose native tongue was not English had experienced since 1985 – Peter’s music and the unfettered emotion that came across in his voice. Even though I didn’t understand French all that well, I understood what Peter felt and what he wanted to say . . . beyond the words. I had listened to the only English composition on the recording “The Long Last Second” and thought to myself, ‘Well, that’s it. This is the last thing I will ever hear from Peter.’

It felt like he was saying goodbye and thanks to all those, myself included, who were fortunate enough to travel with his music journeys for some 20 years.

Then came “I Don’t Want To Save The World”. To be honest I didn’t know if I was prepared for it. It was like being told the news of someone dear passing and coming to terms with it then finding out they weren’t gone. It takes time to re-adjust. But those messages in bottles from “Superhuman” to “Across The Highway” to “Through The Years” and “Under The Star I Was Born”, they keep relating to me though the melodies and the words.

So I guess this web site, which may change and even perhaps end up being a place where Peter himself can post, is a way of saying ‘thank you for all you do’ . . . it has been nothing less than a miracle.

Saul
December 2, 2009