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More from mickey morgan
Not being qualified as a musician, you’ll not read the language of that tribe. But as a dancer and a writer, I know how Joe Bear’s sound and language resonate in my body and mind (same thing).

The rhythms of his entire band are sure, grounded, and I wanna move right away. No matter which song, all participants of the band are One. Many regards to Joe for his choices of musicians who clearly support and complement the massive range of Joe’s vocal expression.

He’s got fables, moments of meaning and poignancy. And he’s put his raw humanity out there with these stories, enhanced as they are by their arrangements and performance.

So, song by song on Bear Country 2

His Last Love?

Ha! O the endless stream of last loves. He’s not kiddin’ this is the last! Poor thing: caught in the plague of the male sex drive. They just love love love too too too much . . . if that’s what it is.

Don’t Try to Take My Gun?

And then I think he’s kiddin’ me! But I put myself in his shoes and this is what came out: Once you get the feeling of that power of the gun, you become a master, invulnerable, worthy to be respected; and in Cowboy culture, it’s the primary gear. To try to take my gun is too personal an affront to my entire identity! (Almost like feds tellin’ women what to do with their bodies.) Don’t take away my choice. I’ll suffer my own karma.

Blue . . .

with you to the end. (Now ya got the right to sing the blues with all that blue.)

Folsom Prison Blues

is neatly choreographed on the entire album, to come after an apparent statement of just the opposite as Don’t Take My Gun. Uh oh . . . these are the consequences of the just-heard tough-guy talk.

He’s always telling stories. You can’t pin Joe Bear down. We can’t tell what is fact and what is fiction.

My Favorite Memory

love love love that’s grown in quality from the love of My Last (Lust) Love. What’s real in life that truly imprints itself deeply on our mindstream is not easily erased . . . maybe never.

I Ain’t Drunk

Now we know he’s playing with us. Now we know he’s been there and back with more muscle to his head. He tells of the game he played, as easily concocted as a dry martini with a twist.

Suicide Clutchin’

Elvis, you’re back! Don’t do it! Just get out of LA!

Sweet Tastin’ Baby

His fun girl. Nice uncommitted relationship, mutual. She’s any man’s dream.

Down South

Only a southerner would get it, he seems to say. But yeh, this celebrates the quirkiness of its culture.

mickey morgan

This from former dance/music critic, now independent publisher, mickey morgan of Cincinnati:

Joe Bear speaks with the voice of a man who’s seen it all and simply, without hypocrisy, gives us listeners a gift: his stories. They are varied and uncensored because that’s the way he really is… a true, raunchy, comedic, regular, caring guy.

Through the exquisite range of vocal expressions (Joe travels easily from deep bassy baritone to high c tenor) this Bear critter breathes his lives to us with an invitation, “Come and play too!”

I can only share raunchy jokes with a chosen, close few. Joe tucks us up silly with an endearing intimacy, unique softness of heart wrapped up in a dark cloud of powerful, clean male energy. As he plays and sings his stories to us, something universal resonates… and there’s his draw. We all become kinfolk. We get to hear it the way it was and the way it is from a man who has been there. His songs run free, wild and true but there’s a sense of closure to his tales. Joe Bear is there, inside the scene, and he takes you with him all the way!

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