Review Summary: Kinsella proves that spending his mornings watching cartoons with the family doesn't mean he can't wallow in beautiful sadness anymore.3 of 3 thought this review was well writtenL'Ami du Peuple
is a triumphant proclamation of twelve years well done, and yet, Owen expresses no intention of retiring. It's been twenty-four years since Mike first made his venture into professional music and twelve since he started Owen, but the man has been restless ever since, settling for nothing but who he is then and there and how this shapes his various projects and records. But he now lives a humble suburban life with his wife, two kids and dog Oscar, and it seems that Kinsella's life--and his music--have settled into a sweet spot.
Indeed, his sound may not be evolving, but with L'Ami du Peuple
, Kinsella proves that he will still not keep to constraints. L'Ami
is hence a record in which Kinsella is confident and content with the fundamental sound of Owen (heartbreaking vocals, light melodies and arpeggios to boot), enough so to apply a variety of stylistic embellishments while L'Ami
still remains an Owen album. Each song is uniquely defined by original characteristics, like the country accentuation of "Bad Blood", pounding drums of "I Got High", the string-infused builds of "Who Cares", the strange pitch collection of the ragtime piano on "Where Do I Begin?"...the list goes on endlessly.
Make no mistake, however, this is not some new, experimental venture: L'Ami du Peuple
is another run of Owen songs. Not that that is, or probably ever will be, a bad thing. With every song of the mere forty minutes of L'Ami
, Kinsella reaffirms the strength of his sound but doesn't let this swallow his compositions or take away his edge: it's a combination which renews his claim to the throne of acoustic music.