Kevin Devine – Nothing's Real So Nothing's Wrong | Album Review
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“Being better doesn’t always mean we’re being good.”
Sometimes it feels like nothing at all is right. Whether I am wasting time on my social media, comparing debts with my partner, or discussing global politics with my mom, everyone appears like they’re straight up not having a good time. Then, six years after the tight and familiar Instigator, Kevin Devine returns with the maximalist bedroom indie rock of Nothing’s Real So Nothing’s Wrong, which feels oh so right.
Opening with a clip of his daughter’s voice, “Laurel Leaf (Anhedonia)” reintroduces Devine as the masterful songwriter he is. Rife with wobbly guitar and vocal melodies, the song boasts winding, clever lyricism like “All the signs I show myself, and I saw nothing." Before the first track fades out, listeners are reminded of the Nirvana-loving Devine with a surprising, thrashing refrain of the main melody buried deep in the mix. Although this incarnation of Devine is understandably more world-weary, he is still (underneath the acoustic guitars and synths) the headbanger his fans have come to know and love.
“Override” is planted squarely in the new, lush sonic landscape of Nothing’s Real but also recalls prior Devine tracks as a driving, mid-tempo introspective rocker. “How Can I Help You?” shimmers in a way that wouldn’t be out of place in Wild Pink’s discography while “Swan Dive” maintains a similar head-nodding groove to carry through to “Albatross,” the album’s haunting lead single that closes side A.
Recalling Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s eerie The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, in which the legendary titular bird represents both the beauty of nature and burdens in one’s life, Devine’s “Albatross” reinforces both Coleridge’s message and his own album’s thesis directly in the middle of the track:
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
Nothing matters anyway
If you’re frightened, stay awake
Pick a god and start to pray
Good Ganesha
Shiva's arms
Jesus Christ in camouflage
If you're sinking, sing along
Nothing's real so nothing's wrong.
A nihilistic echo of Coleridge’s poem, Devine’s bridge unsettles and disturbs as a spoken-word interlude that explodes into a hypnotic refrain. Like the rest of the record, “Albatross” sounds beautiful in its composition and mixing. In that beauty, however, Devine’s lyrics are the undercurrent of terror that comes with the burden of being alive right now.
After the darkly buoyant intermission of “If I’m Gonna Die Here,” Nothing’s Real continues with the Tom Petty-esque ballad “Someone Else’s Dream.” Devine explores creative and artistic dissociation and toxic fandom in the moody, distant “Hell Is An Impression of Myself,” where he sings, “Someone’s after me / for doing an impression of myself / for living an impression of myself.” With this being his 10th solo album, one could argue Devine would be remiss not to be reflecting on his growth and the trajectory of his career.
By no means a bad track, but certainly more reminiscent of previous work, “It’s A Trap!” feels more like a stop-gap before “Tried To Fall In Love (My Head Got In The Way).” The latter simmers to what feels like should be a fever pitch, but Devine, ever the subverter, pulls back and rips into an ethereal ambience full of record scratches and popping: the end is near.
In “Stitching Up The Suture,” Devine knits together the oxymorons and ironies presented in “Albatross.” He whispers lyrics over arpeggiated chords on a dark acoustic, surrounded by sparse percussion. This song is not the explosive, climaxing closer; this is Devine subverting listener expectations to convey his point one last time before he lets you try to understand again. This world is full of horror and heartbreak. However, among those crises can reside beauty and love, like hearing the voice of your child. Though that beauty and love do not fix the problems and pain of the present, they remind us to endure for the future, no matter what it might hold.
With crisp as-ever songwriting, stellar production, and fantastic sequencing, Kevin Devine’s Nothing’s Real So Nothing’s Wrong is not only another classic in his discography but a work of art that shines in a dimming world.
Joe Wasserman, clearly a high school English teacher, lives with his partner and their two dogs in Brooklyn. When he’s not listening to music, he writes short stories, plays bass in bar bands, and enjoys trying new beers. You can find him on Twitter at @a_cuppajoe.
