Mike Kinsella’s long career is a series of stylistic left turns, with Joan Of Arc, Cap’n Jazz, Owls, American Football and his longstanding solo identity as Owen. In the latter’s ever-shifting guise, Kinsella has set his exquisite lyrical gift (and a seemingly endless fascination for the power of the word “fuck” in every conceivable situation) to a folk/pop/jazz/indie-rock soundtrack that references the best of his peer group without worship or larceny.
For The King Of Whys, Kinsella teams with Bon Iver’s S. Carey and his cohorts on a set that could, in a certain light, pass for an Americanized Smiths and Radiohead, at least when the sonics swell to symphonic proportions. Elsewhere, Kinsella’s mastery of pop melodicism in the service of heartbreakingly beautiful and unvarnished sentiment is again on full and perfect display. There’s value in occasional maudlin treacle, but Kinsella is much more interested in making his devoted listeners feel good when they’re feeling bad.
—Brian Baker
