This reviewer has never met David Robert King. In fact this reviewer has spent little time in his native Idaho, or the Northwest, where his live performances are garnering significant attention. This reviewer has never stood in the crowd and watched him play, solo or accompanied by backing band The Lost River Boys, never shared a beer with him after a show.
Nevertheless, King’s Take Me Home EP is familiar. Familiar in a comfortable, nice-guy-you-run-into at the local bar or grocery store kind of way, familiar like a front porch jam session on a summer evening. King’s voice, perfectly pitched, masculine with a suggestion of sensitivity, is comforting; it’s a timbre you’ve heard crooned from the radio since childhood. King’s lyrics follow well-worn trails of loss, love and perseverance. Instrumental backing, heavy on guitar and piano, is pretty and embracing. The structure of King’s vocal and instrumental arrangements echo earlier masters of rock, bluegrass, country, and folk, invoking decades of musical lore.
It comes as no surprise that King is winning over audiences across the continental US. Audiences like what they already know. They like what they hear on the radio, they like arrangements and melodies and lyrics that invoke but do not challenge classic genres, that do not force them to consider music, art, and life in a new way. Take Me Home courts this complacency. It gives them what they want.
The EP’s first track, “Strange Freedom,” is a perfect example. It begins with upbeat drum and guitar, soon be joined by King’s optimistic crooning. The track is uplifting, emotional, about life and love. There is little to complain about, but also little to engage a listener’s curiosity or lodge in the memory. The title track is a sadder, slower ballad with a heavy americana influence and guitar parts that exhibit a bittersweet twang. Introspective and pretty, “Take Me Home” is a stronger offering than the first track.
The third track, “The Winter,” is also slightly melancholy. Slower sections incorporate an intriguing, ambitious melody, which is unfortunately overshadowed by a chorus that strives for inspirational but may verge on cliché. Lyrics invoking the image of a lover walking away are something that this reviewer has heard many times before.
“Somehow Today” begins with pretty guitar and piano interplay. Vocals are doused in heavy reverb, however, which is slightly distracting, an unnecessary embellishment on King’s solid vocals. Lyrics conjure up engagingly unexpected imagery: That November night is kind of a blur, I remember your uncovered feet. This is a fresh image that sparks curiosity as the lyrics proceed to unfold. With female backing vocals, it is a beautiful song, but by its conclusion remains, predictably, another ballad of troubled love.
The final track “As Closed,” though uplifting and mid-tempo like much of the EP, is the most experimental track on the EP. “As Closed” blends genres, slipping from pretty guitar and piano duets to a barrage of frantic scales and tambourines reminiscent of cabaret. The refrain recalls Jimmy Eat World’s “A Praise Chorus.”
This is not an EP for college radio stations foraging new musical frontiers. Their libraries are already well stocked with the classics. The likes of Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and Woody Guthrie have already scoured the territory that King now treads with this 2010 release. Of course, every musician has heroes, influences, and musical soul mates from past eras. Every genre, every great artist, is simply a compound of the past. King is no exception, providing a solid homage to the legends of rock, bluegrass, and country. There is nothing new or out of place on this comfortable little five song EP. It’s easy to slip into, easy to listen to. It won’t keep you up at night reevaluating your life, or your favorite musical genre. Take Me Home is easy, which may also mean that it is easy to forget.
The poignancy and impact of the EP may be limited by its very familiarity. Still, this reviewer has reason to believe that as King’s prowess increases, so will his depth and breadth.
Review by Kendra Atleework
