Richard Buckner’s lyrics and stage persona are often inscrutable and abstract. But that inscrutability and abstraction push what begin as ordinary folk songs into captivating, evocative works. He is, fundamentally, a fine songsmith. In person (I once spent three hours with him in a bar before a show), he’s really entertaining and interesting. Get him on a stage, though, and he disappears behind his own closed eyes and clenched teeth. Baffling. His studio records are superb, though. My favorites are The Hill and Meadow.