What would Jack Kerouac be writing about these days? Probably about a trip to Starbucks for a skinny latté and a chocolate muffin for these are days when adventure is best consumed as a reflection. Similarly, what would Woody Guthrie be singing about these days? Protest has, after all, been reduced to your choice of the label that is put on your Styrofoam morning coffee cup.
So – and I am getting to the point, by the way – what has this to do with Poppa Kitchen’s album? It has the mark of corporate coffee stamped upon it in that it suggests more than it actually delivers. Poppa’s Kitchen (Steve Feldman, Robert Romanus et al) give the appearance of serious musicianship and indeed successfully create an atmosphere of near theatrical melancholy with their intense songs. Sounds good so far but there is a caveat and it is that coffee shop sensibility that pervaded the proceedings. Those rich voices and reverbed guitars sound meaningful yet simultaneously derivative with the mark of familiarity too easily found on the likes of “Back In My Arms” and “Love At First Sight”. It’s almost as if these good gentlemen have made a conscious decision to be an amalgam rather than an entity.
“Play, Play, Play…” is certainly easy on the ear but it passes by just a bit too easily to make it into your affections. Fans of the inoffensive will find it quirky and endearing while fans of the quirky and endearing will find it inoffensive. All things considered, the album has therefore achieved near perfect balance. I think there is an appropriate old Chinese saying: “You can’t catch what hasn’t been dropped”.
Available from CD Baby.