1.28.19 by Ryan Masteller
I wish I was Adrian Knight. I mean, not even a little bit – I WANT to be him, like BE HIM be him. That unflinching coolness is something to aspire to, and no reviewer worth their salt would ever omit the term “smooth operator” in a write up of one of his albums. I wanted to get that out of the way so you know I’m serious. I’m not joking in any way at all. I want to – no, I MUST attain a modicum of that lifestyle in order to truly feel like I’m a complete version of myself.
But to dismiss Knight’s laid-back cocktail funk as a put-on, as some kind of nu-yacht rock is a little disingenuous. This isn’t the Swedish expat’s first rodeo, as he’s got a couple other releases on Galtta, both of the solo variety and as part of Blue Jazz TV, and elsewhere, as part of Private Elevators and Synthetic Love Dream Ensemble. He’s an unstoppable force of dreamy, self-reflective and utterly streamlined songwriting, and he continues to hone his craft into amazing disco-pop-funk reveries. Kind of like if fellow countryman Jens Lekman ended up fronting a live vaporwave band, or something along those lines. That’s not even close to a perfect description. But it sure sounds fun!
“Vacation Man” will convince you that you need a permanent holiday from everyday business life, as if the boardrooms and the corner offices don’t hold the secrets to success that you once dreamed of. I feel this way too – I’m with you guys. But even though this is exactly the kind of situation the music of “Vacation Man” seems to shove into your imagination, it’s actually – and, shhh, it might be a secret – kind of a condemnation of it. See, the title track itself even goes “Stand down, Vacation Man, no one can save you now” on its chorus. Whaddayou mean by that?! Does that mean that every hope sprung forth by Adrian Knight here, every desire, is just a wisp of nothingness that’ll leave me hollow inside?
I don’t know what to think – I don’t even know who I am anymore.
No, wait – I’ll just press play on “Vacation Man,” then I’ll feel good about myself again. Well, until I realize what the lyrics are telling me, that is. Get your own copy (of 125) from Galtta!