Review Summary: When we fall apart and don't have a home.
It's always quite hard to watch friendships and people fall apart. Being in college, people move away and things change. Relationships that have been nurtured carefully for years through some of the hardest situations crumble just because of a certain amount of mile markers between two people. As hard as it is to watch this, I do not know the pain myself. I quite honestly lack friends. Not so much because of an unbearable personality or anything of the like. I simply prefer to keep myself at a distance from nearly everyone on earth. I do not know the feeling of a dying friendship, I merely see it occur to those I hold dear. I suppose one could say the same emotions are brought about by the collapse of religious beliefs, however. When one is close to something, it can garner the same attachment as an emotional commitment to a fellow human. I grew up in the church. As I carried on in age, it became apparent to me that the established church was a broken and empty place. It's hard to keep one's head up when everything they grew up to believe as truth, or fact, is dashed to bits on the smallest rocks. I was bitter for awhile. Sometimes I still am. There are days when I feel resentment towards all of religion, and days when I feel pity for it. Sometimes I'm at peace. It's a rare moment of solace, though. I often wonder if there is anybody out there who feels the same inner-workings of strife that I do about my beliefs. I stumbled upon
Little Kid and I felt this strange connection, conviction, and peace.
Little Kid is a sort of quiet little act. None of the tracks on
Logic Songs really soar with any choruses, or meet the standard requirements of enthralling records. Most of the songs consist of a timid voice behind a guitar with occasional sampling reminiscent of Lee Noble's work. Yet, the album is so intimate. What it lacks in complexities and masterful, top-notch, production it more than makes up for with heartfelt lyrics and somber vocals. A young man, Kenny Boothby, sings about his woes regarding God, beliefs, and religion with his acoustic guitar and barely any equipment that meets modern standards. There are moments where the acoustic guitar clips, reducing
Little Kid's soft vocal work to a slightly buzz-drenched swell. This does not detract whatsoever, though. It adds to the genuine humanity on
Logic Songs. What is so beautiful about this record is the lyrical work and the obvious human behind it. There are no theatricals, or distractions. The man behind it knows who he is, and he knows his purpose. He does not hide from his reality.
Nearly all of us have struggled with religion or the concept of God at one point or another. That is where the lyrics on
Logic Songs drive home. The album contains such quiet folk music, but such poignant lyrics. They strike a chord deep down within me, as they are what I feel every day. I have never been able to put any form of words to my emotions toward religion, nor have I been able to flesh out my thoughts regarding the opinions I was told were facts.
Little Kid does it for me; a beautiful prospect for someone who has felt unsure of his path to belief.
In a world loaded with music that capitalizes on unrelenting noise,
Little Kid is a beautiful change of pace. It stirs broken bonds between man and any sort of doctrine or beliefs we may have once adhered to or are struggling with. A small voice, behind a quiet guitar, tackles one of the biggest concepts and most controversial topics that man has ever stumbled upon. With intimacy, authenticity, and humanity
Little Kid brings peace to a struggle that many have felt at one time or another. Through poetry in simplicity and heart with minimalism,
Logic Songs bridges an often painful gap.
A herd of pigs is lying dead in the water.
I swear: all I wanted were the demons cast from my daughter,
but now the congregation's angry at the useless slaughter,
as if I should have taken her out back like a dog and just shot her.- You Might Not Be Right.
