A West Texan singer-songwriter named after Kris Kristofferson has a lot to live up to. But thereâ€™s a soulfulness in Phillipsâ€™ voice, the sort you hear on deep Van Morrison tracks, and a redemptive faith in his songs that suggests Bruce Springsteen. His album ponders the end of a relationship, and though written in the first person, the stories are biographical rather than autobiographical. The split viewpoint lends a philosophical angle that musters a friendâ€™s pain and outrage from an observational angle. The songs battle the lethargy of aftermath, ponder second chances to end things cruelly, and find their way to forgive and move on to what could be renewal. â€œHad Enoughâ€ opens the album with a moment of realization that signals the oncoming emotional thaw. A growing understanding of just how unraveled heâ€™d become leads to confession and confrontation as he begs for reaction, castigates himself and looks for an exit.
Phillips finds out that letting go sometimes turns out to be harder than remaining unhappy, as neither the conventions of â€œRom Comâ€ nor the rebound of â€œ18 Year Old Girlsâ€ prove to be a sustainable escape from real world endings. The latter features a terrific neo-psychedelic guitar coda that suggests Television playing Americana, and elsewhere the album explores country, gospel, and in the closing â€œHock the Horses,â€ a Latin rhythm. Gordy Quistâ€™s production balances guitar sustain with deep bass notes and gently shuffling drums, pushing Phillips ever-so-slightly forward in the mix to emphasize his emotional isolation and personalize his plight. The crucible of a failed relationship leaves scars on the tested, but even one step removed, the sparks of recrimination and salve of forgiveness make for intensely revealing stories. [Â©2017 Hyperbolium]