Album Review: Not To Worry by Scott Owens – A Folksy, Jazzy Ride Worth Taking
Let’s cut to the chase: Scott Owens’ 2017 album Not To Worry is like that cozy coffee shop you stumble into on a rainy day—warm, inviting, and just quirky enough to make you smile. With genres spanning Folk, World, Country, and Jazz (yeah, it's a genre buffet), this US-born gem feels less like an album and more like a conversation with an old friend who’s seen some stuff but still believes in happy endings.
First off, kudos to Craig Owens (Scott’s probably very talented brother? Cousin? Who knows!) for engineering, mixing, and co-producing this thing. And shoutout to Jimmy Jackson for mastering—it’s smooth as butter, which is exactly what you want when listening to music that straddles so many styles without tripping over its own shoelaces.
Now let’s talk tracks because ain’t nobody got time to review all five. I’ll focus on two standouts: “Keep The Child Laughing” and “Eastern Sun.” Spoiler alert: they’re both earworms, but not in the annoying way. More like the kind of songs you hum while folding laundry or pretending to be deep during sunset walks.
Track 1: “Keep The Child Laughing”
This one hits different. It starts off simple—just Scott’s voice and guitar—but there’s something about the melody that sticks to your brain like syrup on pancakes. The lyrics are playful yet thoughtful, kinda like someone whispering, “Hey, life’s tough, but don’t forget how to laugh.” By the second chorus, I found myself singing along even though I had no idea what half the words were. That’s the magic of Scott’s songwriting—he doesn’t need fireworks; he just needs authenticity. Oh, and his vocals? They’re warm and raspy, like whiskey poured straight from the soul.
Track 3: “Eastern Sun”
If “Keep The Child Laughing” feels like a hug, “Eastern Sun” is like stepping into a dream where everything smells like incense and hope. This track leans heavier into the jazz side of things, with intricate guitar work that dances around your ears like a caffeinated squirrel. There’s a moment midway through where the tempo shifts slightly, and suddenly you’re transported somewhere else entirely—maybe a beach at dawn or a rooftop under starlight. Whatever it is, it works. Big time. You can tell Scott wrote this one after staring at the horizon for too long, lost in thought. Or maybe he was just really hungry. Either way, it’s beautiful.
---
So yeah, Not To Worry isn’t perfect, but perfection is boring anyway. Sure, the production could’ve been flashier, and yeah, the album cover looks like it was designed in Microsoft Paint circa 2003, but none of that matters once you press play. What does matter is the raw emotion here—the sense that Scott poured his heart into every note and didn’t care if anyone noticed.
As I wrapped up my third listen, I realized something weird: this album made me miss people I haven’t even met yet. Like, imagine sitting around a campfire with strangers-turned-friends, passing around stories and snacks, and Scott’s music playing softly in the background. Weird, right? But also kinda wonderful.
Final verdict? If you dig folk with a dash of jazz swagger, give Not To Worry a spin. Just don’t blame me if you start craving pancakes and existential musings afterward.
