My kinda Guy, my kinda song

Guy Clark's still alive and kickin' and we can all be thankful for that.

He's got new album out on Dualtone that I'm just digging into, and at first blush it's a gem -- a much stronger effort than "Workbench Songs'' from 2006. I might just be getting weak in the knees, but after a few listens this one might even approach masterpiece status. While we're cogitatin' on that, here are the lyrics from one of the prime cuts, "The Guitar":

I was passing by a pawn shop in an older part of town
Something caught my eye; I stopped and turned around
I stepped inside and there I spied in the middle of it all
A beat up ol' guitar hanging on the wall

What do you want for that piece of junk? I asked the old man
He just smiled and took it down and put it in my hand
You tell me what it's worth you're the one who wants it
Tune it up, play a song, and let's just see what haunts it

So I hit a couple of chords in my country way of strummin'
And then my fingers turned to lightnin' I never heard it comin'
It was like I always knew it but I don't know where I learned it
It was nothin' but the truth so I just reared back and burned it

I lost all track of time -- there was nothin' I couldn't pick
Up and down the neck and I never missed a lick
The guitar almost played itself there was nothin' I could do
It was gettin' hard to tell just who was playin' who

When I finally put it down, I couldn't catch my breath
My hands were shakin' and I was scared to death
The old man finally got up and said where the hell you been
I've been waitin' all these years for you to stumble in

He took down an ol' dusty case and said go on and pack it up
You don't owe me nothin' and then he said good luck
There was somethin' spooky in his voice somethin' strange on his face
When he shut the lid, I saw my name was on the case

Damn. With a big assist to Verlon Thompson, who co-wrote the song and provides some righteous acoustic accompaniment. Yesterday we showered gushing praise on Paul Simon, who just turned 68, and along comes Guy Clark -- a mere 67 -- blazing new trails with "Somedays the Song Writes You.''

Two master storytellers, just hitting their prime. Two good reasons to hang around, to taste that well-aged wine.