Do you remember that suicide poem, “Resumé” by Dorothy Parker? The narrator lists the various ways one might kill oneself and concludes they are all too messy, unpleasant, or just plain dull. “You might as well live”, the speaker wearily concludes. Tony Kamel’s new album features a host of songs about death and dying, but unlike Parker, he deduces, “We’re All Gonna Live”, so we should enjoy it.
Kamel attributes his optimism to his grandmother, who advised him, “Eventually, life starts to knock you around. You have to be ready to fight with a smile.” The country/bluegrass singer/multi-instrumentalist takes this instruction to heart. He knows life can suck, but one can also suck the sweetness out of it in a positive manner. His songs instruct us to find ways to “Make It Work”. Sure, we are all going to die. In the meantime, don’t forget, “We’re All Gonna Live”. Determination is a requisite for more than just enduring life’s adversities. We may not always be able to prevail against obstacles that get in the way of our happiness, but we can adjust our ways of thinking and be joyful.
This sentiment may border on cliché or fortune cookie wisdom. However, Kamel infuses his philosophy with real-life examples that suggest deeper meanings. Some of the best songs are the most metaphysical ones, such as the a cappella “A Father and a Daughter”. The emotional resonance of the lyrics complements its plain-spoken delivery. It’s one thing to suggest that life is just an illusion and another to say even death cannot extinguish love.
Kamel has a serviceable voice that suggests his persona as a regular guy is authentic. He rarely reaches for notes on the high or low spectrum. He’ll stretch syllables on tunes such as “Lying Through My Teeth” to demonstrate the depth of his feelings. For example, he turns the word “old” as in “old friend” into a three-syllable phrase to reveal how much the pal means to him and engages in other verbal tricks with terms like “high”, “turn”, and “girl” to reveal their latent meanings. Yet it’s Kamel’s banjo and guitar picking that displays the artist’s most outstanding qualities.
The former frontman with the Grammy Award-nominated bluegrass band Wood & Wire lets the strings propel the material. His performance regulates the tempo, whether he’s playing soft and slow or loud and fast. His version of the instrumental jam, Bill Monroe‘s “Ol’ Dangerfield” (one of two cover songs on the record, the other the Danny Barnes’ heartfelt “Little Bitty Town”) showcases Kamel’s and his colleagues’ technical prowess. The album was recorded live at the Bunker, Bruce Robison‘s all-analog studio in Lockhart, Texas, with all the players performing together in the same room without digital gimmickry. Kamel and Robinson co-produced the record.
Dorothy Parker’s poem was ironic. Kamel’s attitude is sincere. The title tune tells the story of a bum who gives up alcohol and finds contentment after returning home and taking a straight job. It’s a lovely story of redemption, but I don’t know if I buy it. The backstory is missing. Why did the man become a street urchin to begin with? What if he has never strayed from the straight and narrow and lived a boring life by conforming to society’s norms? The ten songs on We’re All Gonna Live suggest life is worthwhile. Kamel’s singing, playing, and songwriting offer hope. I don’t want to be that guy, but have you seen the news lately? Parker’s posture seems more realistic.
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