little-wings

Is being Kyle Field the best or the absolute worst? It’s impossible to know from his tried-and-tested (and tried and tried again – this is his eleventh album) mumbled folk songs. On one hand, ‘Explains’ conjures a forest man, contently drifting through life unshaven, although not because that’s what’s cool now.

Little Wings sounds at peace with doing just enough to get by, because, hey, nature makes you feel small, man, so why make the music any less drowsy and ‘organic’. But Field also sounds downtrodden on a lot of the tracks here, which are made up of acoustic guitar and piano, and underpinned by brushed drum skins – U.S. folk for back porches, not too far from Woods’ less wigged out moments. Perhaps Little Wings is now lamenting the passing of time where once he embraced its untameable nature.

Is Field enviably relaxed or tragically depressed? That question – and the fact that his amateur vocals are better than he probably knows – will keep you returning to ‘Explains’; a record that is as poignant as any he’s recorded, complexed at heart, if not in technique.

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