Kevin Devine has always existed somewhere between intimate singer-songwriter confessionals and politically charged indie rock. Instigator attempts to bring those sides together while also marrying the energy of Bubblegum with the skeletal power-pop of Bulldozer. It is an admirable goal, but the album never quite finds the consistency necessary to make that combination feel fully realized. There are strong songs here, yet too many of them struggle to leave a lasting impression.
John Agnello’s production gives the album considerably more energy than Devine’s quieter material. Guitars have enough bite to push the songs forward, while the arrangements remain relatively uncluttered. The approach makes sense for an album designed to move away from ballads, but it also exposes one of Instigator‘s biggest problems: many of the songs occupy similar sonic territory. The record is energetic without always being dynamic, and after a while its momentum begins to feel more like repetition.
When Devine hits the target, however, his songwriting remains as sharp as ever. “Both Ways” is arguably the album’s best example. Its new wave influence and accessible melody make it immediately approachable, while its lyrics tackle right-leaning politics, religion and American foreign intervention. Devine creates a compelling contradiction between the song’s upbeat musical surface and its uncomfortable subject matter. It is catchy enough to invite a singalong while simultaneously asking the listener to examine the ideas underneath it.
“I Was Alive Back Then” provides the necessary counterbalance. Built around Devine’s acoustic singer-songwriter instincts, it catalogs memories from different stages of his life, including Christmas with his brother, following the Mets and his wedding. These details give the song an emotional specificity that some of the album’s more abstract political material lacks. It is one of the few moments where the stripped-down approach feels like an essential part of the song rather than simply another texture in the track list.
“Daydrunk” is similarly effective because Devine refuses to glamorize its subject matter. The song examines substance abuse and escapism through the perspective of someone who recognizes the destructive nature of deliberately making life more chaotic. When daily responsibilities become overwhelming, blowing everything up can seem easier than confronting reality. Devine’s self-awareness keeps the song from becoming an excuse or a confession for its own sake, and his ability to place a hook in an unexpected location gives it additional staying power.
That instinct for unconventional hooks is one of Devine’s most interesting songwriting characteristics. “Magic Magnet,” for example, saves its most memorable hook for later in the song rather than building everything around an obvious chorus. “Daydrunk” similarly establishes its identity through its opening rather than relying solely on a traditional refrain. Devine understands that a hook does not necessarily need to arrive where the listener expects it. Unfortunately, not every song possesses a distinctive enough musical idea to take advantage of that strength.
“Freddy Gray Blues” is perhaps the clearest example of the album’s unevenness. Addressing institutional racism and police brutality is completely consistent with Devine’s worldview and songwriting ethos, and the subject matter gives the album considerable weight. But as the fourth track, it brings the record’s early momentum to an abrupt stop. Its placement makes the sequencing feel awkward and contributes to the sense that Instigator is not always sure how to balance its competing personalities.
The larger problem is that the album can become difficult to distinguish from itself. Several songs blur together once the initial impression of the production wears off, and the decision to emphasize energy over balladry does not always result in greater variety. Devine’s lyrics provide enough substance to keep the listener engaged, but the music does not consistently give those words memorable settings. The album is rarely bad, but “rarely bad” is a lower bar than Devine’s songwriting suggests he should be aiming for.
That makes Instigator an interesting but frustrating record. Its best moments demonstrate exactly why Devine has remained such a respected songwriter. He can make political material melodic, turn personal memories into compelling narratives and find hooks in places where other writers would simply insert another chorus. But the weaker songs dilute those strengths, and the album’s sequencing and sonic similarities prevent its strongest ideas from carrying the entire experience.
Ultimately, Instigator feels more like a worthwhile step in Kevin Devine’s evolution than a fully successful destination. The attempt to combine the urgency of Bubblegum with the stripped-down power-pop sensibility of Bulldozer produces flashes of something genuinely compelling, but the execution is too inconsistent to make the album feel essential. There is plenty here for longtime fans to appreciate, particularly in Devine’s lyrics, but the record needed stronger musical differentiation and tighter sequencing to turn its good ideas into a great album.
For Fans Of:
- The Hold Steady — Boys and Girls in America
- Ted Leo and the Pharmacists — Living with the Living
- The Mountain Goats — All Eternals Deck