Ever have friends over to listen to music? Do you let them scan your collection for the next cd to play? Do you have any Bob Runyon? If you answered yes to all three questions, then you’ve likely been asked, “What kind of music is this?” As any Bob Runyon fan knows, the difficulty of answering this question is akin to explaining string theory to a chicken, or how chicken tastes to one of those little green dudes.
To be honest, any attempt to file Bob Runyon away in a drawer would fall short. It would inevitably turn out like that drawer we all have somewhere at home. You know the one. It’s the drawer crammed full of doohickeys, thingamajigs and whachacallits, all unrelated but quite treasured items. His discography has been fashioned like a hand-made quilt. It’s carefully stitched, but the fabric is a patchwork of stripes, plaids, floral patterns, and polka dots.
You could say Bob Runyon music is like this or that, but you’ll have to throw in a “but not” or two. It’s like folk but not dated, like blues but not formulaic, like rock but not raucous, like country but not cookie-cutter, like traditional but not stuck in tradition. None of this should be a total surprise, though. After all, this is a guy who grew up in the Ozarks during the Rock & Roll Era, has a head-full of vintage 45 records, and occasionally plays with both an improvisational electronic band dubbed C3 and a Tibetan Singing Bowls Ensemble by the name of The Deli Llama Orchestra. Yep, Bob is a little different, and so is his music! It may not be rocket science, but it sure ain’t white meat.