Alright, let’s dive into Kevin Simpson’s self-titled album, Kevin Simpson. This one’s a gem from Canada, falling under the Folk, World, & Country umbrella. It’s released under Not On Label, which kinda makes it feel like an underground treasure you stumble upon at a flea market—raw, real, and unfiltered.
First off, can we talk about “Growing Old With You”? Man, this track hits different. It’s not trying too hard to be poetic or fancy; it just lays it all out there with simple sincerity. The lyrics feel like something you’d scribble on a napkin during a quiet moment at a diner. There’s no overproduced sheen here—just Kevin’s voice and some gentle guitar work that lets the emotion breathe. It’s the kind of song that makes you think about life in a way that feels personal, like he wrote it for you and only you.
Then there’s “It Turns A Good Man Bad.” Whoa, this one sneaks up on ya. At first, it seems like another folk tune, but halfway through, it takes a sharp turn into storytelling territory. The melody sticks to your ribs, and the lyrics? They’re sharp enough to cut glass. You know those moments when life gets overwhelming, and even good people crack under pressure? That’s what this song captures so perfectly. By the end, I was replaying it immediately because it felt unfinished somehow—like I needed more time to unpack everything it was saying.
The rest of the album keeps the vibe going strong. Tracks like “You’re Holding All The Pieces” and “Always Have, Always Will” have these little hooks that stay lodged in your brain long after the music stops. And don’t get me started on “Porsche 930s”—it’s quirky as heck but oddly relatable if you’ve ever had a soft spot for things that remind you of freedom or escape.
What I love most about this album is how unpretentious it feels. It doesn’t scream, “Look at me! I’m profound!” Instead, it sits beside you, cracks open a beer (or maybe a maple latte since it’s Canadian), and says, “Hey, wanna chat?” It’s imperfect in the best ways—just like real conversations.
Here’s the kicker: listening to this album made me realize how rare it is to find music that feels this honest without being overly polished. Like, it reminded me of sitting around a campfire where everyone shares their stories—not because they’re perfect, but because they’re true. And honestly? I didn’t expect a song about Porsches to make me tear up, but hey, life’s full of surprises.
So yeah, give Kevin Simpson a spin if you’re into folk tunes that feel like heart-to-hearts with strangers. Just don’t blame me if you start craving maple syrup while jamming to it.
