Album Review: Kamahl’s Ain’t It Time You Tried Love / We Love Each Other, Don’t We
Alright, let’s dive into this gem from the vaults of Taurus-Kiwi records. Kamahl’s Ain’t It Time You Tried Love / We Love Each Other, Don’t We is a slice of 70s pop heaven with just enough vocal swagger to keep things interesting. Produced by Buddy Killen (yep, that guy) and executive-produced by Kamahl himself, this little package feels like someone took love songs seriously but didn’t take themselves too seriously in the process.
The album kicks off with “Ain’t It Time You Tried Love,” and oh boy, does it slap harder than your grandma’s Sunday roast. The arrangement—courtesy of Bergen White—is smooth as butter on warm toast, all lush strings and gentle piano chords. What makes this track stick? Well, Kamahl has this velvety voice that wraps around you like an old blanket, except instead of smelling faintly of mothballs, it smells like… hope? Yeah, I said it. Hope. It’s one of those tunes where you’re nodding along thinking, "Dang, maybe he's right—maybe it is time I tried love." Or at least called my mom back.
Then there’s “We Love Each Other, Don’t We,” which hits different because it’s less about convincing yourself and more about checking in. Like, hey, we cool here? Are we vibing? This song doesn’t scream for attention; it whispers sweet nothings while strumming some light guitar riffs. There’s something kinda wholesome about how Kamahl delivers the title line—not smug, not desperate, just… sure. You can almost picture him leaning against a lamppost, tipping his hat after dropping these truth bombs.
Now, here’s the kicker: listening to this record feels like stepping into a world where everyone still sends handwritten letters and arguments end with milkshakes at the diner. And yeah, sure, maybe that’s cheesy as heck, but isn’t that what good music should do? Make you feel stuff? Even if that stuff is nostalgia for a time you weren’t even alive for?
Final thought: If Kamahl ever decided to re-release this album, I’d buy it on vinyl faster than you can say “Bergen White.” But until then, I’ll be over here pretending I’m living in a rom-com montage whenever these tracks come on shuffle. Love each other, don’t we?
