Compared to the casualness with which Lindsey Buckingham attended to the first 25 years of his solo career, the past six years have seen a flurry of activity. That goes not just for the speed with which he's churned out his last three albums, but also for the bulk of material they contain. Armed with both a frenzied fingerpicking style and the technological flexibility afforded to him by ultra-modern recording capabilities, many of Buckingham's newer songs sound as if there are so many ideas pouring out of his head that he's frantically trying to capture them before they're lost forever.
One of the grand exceptions on the recent Seeds We Sow is "End of Time," an oasis of calm acceptance that stands in bold relief to the speed-crazy playing and track-maximizing overdubbing found elsewhere. It's lush, true, but it's also simple, recalling Buckingham's 1981 single "Trouble." In fact, the two start out much the same, with a steady, unfussy drumbeat establishing the bones of the song before Buckingham himself enters, his voice chiming softly like the guitars that flesh it out.
While Buckingham, true to the title, opens with an inquisition into the infinite, he turns to an expression of more personal matters by the end. Distance, death, eschatology; none of it matters in his reckoning. The lights may fade, he seems to be saying in "End of Time," but some spark of love and gratitude will shine through. Buckingham intends to shine along with it.
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