Kid Cornered Kid Cornered by: Steve Scully Mon:10-Sep-07 Label: Half A Cow Year: 2007 WB rating 77 out of 100

When you’re listening to an album and all you can think of is Wilco and Tom Waits, then you’re definitely onto a good thing. Kid Cornered’s self titled long-player is a quiet piece of work: with few catchy hooks or mind-bending riffs, instead underscored by poetic, off-beat lyricism and inventive instrumentation, enough to set it apart from your average country acoustic record.

With vocals oozing that Jeff Tweedy, husky twang, Kid Cornered weaves simple melodies around sparse arrangements, with the occasional touch of musical inspiration to add class to the affair. Light-on for rhythm section, and heavy on electric licks and softly-strummed acoustic guitar, the album is driven by a steadfast and traditional feel, and only awaken from this doziness by the odd flourish of horns or inventive vocal harmony. Opener ‘Film Career’, a song that could have ended perfectly suitably with a guitar solo or acoustic-based fade, is brought to an arresting, gorgeous end by subtle, layered brass harmonies. In similar fashion the piano towards the mid-point of ‘Ambulance’ may only be slight, but it is an added twist that assures the track doesn’t merely stumble along unnoticed.

Lyrically, Kid Cornered’s debut album is full of attractive turns-of-phrase, and while most songs can’t really be understood as cohesively didactic or message-based, they are evocative enough of a state of mind perfectly adapted to the album’s musical feel. ‘50 Words’ sings some poetic, however shallow phrases: “You’re all champagne wrists and fixing make up rust/All the Chinese burns have turned the jokes to dust.” Exposing his inner bohemian in ‘Wooden Cane’, singing of a the said cane, “$16.50 from a Salvation Army Store”, and revealing an apparent dislike of commercial rock stars in ‘AC/DC’, Kid Cornered’s lyrics exhibit a distinctly cynical frame of mind. Indeed in the latter, he is at his most furiously outspoken and blunt: “you’re writing notes/Using B-grade quotes,” taking a swing at the shallowness of rock where “it’s a crime if ya don’t be loud.” While this may sit with the likes of Pink’s ‘Stupid Girl’ in the ideology stakes, the track is a sideswipe at an industry that hasn’t quite taken this artist into the fold, and is therefore far more effective in it’s frustration.

The album’s highlights come when Kid Cornered departs from his country bent and takes on a new approach. ‘Dry Bones’ is an effective musical experiment, far from the guitar-based majority of the record, centered on layered horns and ambulatory piano. This track creates a vastly different, and wholly glorious, sonic departure for the record. Even more attractive a stand-out is ‘The Track’, the album’s final and most off-beat moment. Whiskey-induced, smoke-hazed and seemingly in debt, Cornered takes the place of the lamenting lounge-singer, mumbling away about his day’s losses whilst plunking on the keys in front of him. Like Small Change-era Tom Waits, he sings of a failed day of debauchery (while Waits wouldn’t hesitate to invoke strip-clubs, alcohol-induced boredom and boredom-induced alcohol), a very Melbourne spin of a day at the racetrack. “You should’ve seen all those women in their hats/And roped-off members with their wads of cash,” sings the lowly caricature of a basement-dwelling gambler. This may be somewhat of a gimmicky approach to songwriting, and could seem forced to some, but the rawness of the vocals and the simple beauty of the jazzy piano is inescapable.

Kid Cornered’s debut record is a simple affair, hitting its high notes with lazy ease rather than fist-pumping grandeur. He may not receive the glory that those he despises take in their stride, and radio-friendly he is not, but he has undoubtedly cornered a market: Perfect for a double-scotch and cigar-toting summer evening, Kid Cornered’s record is sweet enough to take straight, but has that cynical kick that makes it all-the-more pleasing an experience.