If you consider yourself a participant in any community that involves trade-off between an artist and audience, I highly recommend enlightening yourself with what is objectively “The World’s Greatest Album”. Devon Kay & The Solutions tackles the story of an artist chasing fame through an 11-song, 37 minute long concept album that utilizes elements from their vast repertoire of genres and influences, depicting existential and highly relevant themes of identity and fulfillment, and even treads on ideas of collective morality and the contradictory nature of individualism under a public lens. While it is marketed as a concept album from a character’s point of view, there is no doubt that these are also incredibly vulnerable lyrics spelling out raw desires and emotion, whether it is a need for validation or the fleeting feeling of accomplishment that we as human beings are prone to pursue.
The album begins with chatter, easing into a lament questioning whether this lifestyle of being a touring artist is sustainable. There is a deep feeling of hopelessness in “Adding Odds” as the narrator awaits some sort of validation to continue this passion, and immediately after feeling the absence of that validation, questions what it means to lose the joy and sense of accomplishment that comes with such a pursuit. The song has incredible build-up, with the rest of the band kicking in with every question of doubt and validity of this lifestyle, even going as far to question the blame of this dissatisfaction and a feeble voice of reason that rings as insignificant as the value of a streamed song in modern media consumption.
Continuing off such a grand opening song, there is dialogue criticizing the value of good music and an inability to reach an audience before “Wannabe”, a more candid track stating the intentions and purpose of the artist. In a more pop-punk vein, Devon Kay brings out a raw vulnerability of seeking approval through self-deprecation, hitting the audience with an incredibly succinct chorus that captures the driving force of the album in 2 lines “I’m not exactly sure where I’ll be, what I am, or I’ll lay on this earth. It’s an insatiable thirst to believe that we are what we say we’re worth.” The desire to be seen, understood, and accepted by the world around us is one that many of us can share, and artists handle these through their productions and performance, putting the contents of their lives into the public eye and depending on their public image and approval of their audience. It feels somewhat hopeful, with the song ending with a van sputtering and struggling to start, eventually starting and an exclamation of excitement.
The theme of public acceptance is revisited in a more cynical tone in “I Made A Post”, intertwined with incredibly catchy horn lines and a very danceable beat while Devon Kay sings about the activity and rationale of social media presence and its importance to artists in the current entertainment industry. The song title itself is incredibly sardonic to the role of marketing as artists depend on their publicity for success, and the subsequent publication of ideologies that runs parallel with the desired publication for their art, with lyrics dialoguing the thought patterns behind public statements regarding worldly issues and political conflict, but includes the sentiment of the need to be in the audience’s mind constantly before the chorus. The chorus paints a perspective of the correlation between identity and loneliness, while pointing out that while people may differ in their values and experience, everybody seems to find common ground in their willingness to criticize.
Lead single “Heart to Break” feels reminiscent of brass laden pop-punk, accompanied with infectious horn lines, vocal melodies, and danceable beats. The lyrics manage to depict heartbreak in a relatable yet unique way, with a chorus sharing that there was a mutual understanding that a relationship wouldn’t last, but not expecting the ending to hurt as much as it did. I thoroughly loved the instrumental solo, with different instruments taking the lead with each measure. The song ends with vocalization alongside the horn riff, with the vocals somewhat similar to techniques in pop-punk marketing. Continuing the album, “Thirty-Three” begins with a hypnotic guitar riff joined by an arrangement of soulful horns before painting a picture of the strong feelings of dissatisfaction and stagnation as the narrator drives home after a tour.
One of the more dynamic tracks is “Screen Glow”, which can only be described as a majestic masterpiece. The song starts very softly, with an acoustic guitar under lyrics that remind the listener that despite the perils of a publicized lifestyle, that this is how the artist has chosen to live for financial stability and fulfillment. The artist has chosen to live with the restrictions that come with that desire to be understood by the world and the way that such a desire has trapped the artist to a world that doesn’t expand beyond the physical space of a screen’s light. The song builds, with instruments entering halfway through the verse along the added fear of becoming an epitome of defeat, that such a public eye and lifestyle could create a narrative of a tragedy, making an example of the artist. The chorus is filled with caution, magnifying the impact of any mistakes, and begging for a paradise outside of this sort of life restricted in the screen glow. The last minute of the song continues with what I can only describe as a soaring sensation that feels like a deliberate contrast with the constricting nature of the life depicted in the chorus. Through an almost orchestral arrangement of horns, layered vocals in the chorus, and the changes in pace and intensity in the last 30 seconds of the song, it is evident that “World’s Greatest Band” is not just a marketing tactic, but a truth.
Devon Kay & The Solutions reminds us of their versatility in both “Nightly Checks” and “Bottom of the Middle”. “Nightly Checks” is a soft acoustic song, with both Devon Kay and Kaitlyn West (of Tiny Stills) exchanging verses that speak to each other about perspective and expectations while living with reckless behavior, loving worry, and loneliness. It is a sweet and somber song, possibly a taste of the connection and understanding that the artist has been seeking through the footsteps walking ahead, and the listener has barely enough time to sit with these emotions before there is a whisper to “wake up” into a reality depicted in “Bottom of the Middle”. The song launches with an ominous bass riff, building drum beat, and an almost satanic laughter. The lyrics correlate worldly validation with power and the continuous chase of the feelings associated with each milestone of success, with a chorus declaring the time, energy, and social conflicts that came with their current standing of being at the “bottom of the middle” of the hierarchy that we collectively agree exists. In case any of the thinly veiled metaphors didn’t stick, the bridge includes dialogue of a very particular community, that such a genre is futile in today’s era and that people attend musical performance events to listen to the bands they paid for. Similar to the lament of the futility of marketing through radio and streaming services, this mentality diminishes the efforts of an artist chasing that validation through the exposure of opening for a bigger headliner, and adds an additional barrier for the artist to be accepted by the community they participate in.
“This Could Be You” masks a vulnerability with rage, pointing out hypocrisy between lifestyle and ideologies while being wildly exposed to a skewed perspective of reality through the selective and duplicitous nature of social media. The narrator repeats the desire to be seen and a willingness to give up something (morals, values, etc.) for that level of worldly acceptance that they’ve been constantly chasing, and revisits the raw desire of wanting to be so omnipresent in the minds of their audience. The chorus is incredibly simple, “you’re all fucking doing it” in regards to the ways people are willing to compromise their values for survival or fulfillment, but it is such a heavy and effective way to get the audience to participate in the energy that it shares (through a studio recording or live performance). The bridge brings in vocals from Joram, echoing the consciousness of dissatisfaction with consequence and desire for something better, before the repeated reminder of the trade-off that everyone is doing.
The album ends with “Who You Are” and “What I Am To You”, with the former revisiting the endless quest to find out who you really are. “There’s a hard line between the person who you are and who you want to be” feels like an eerie change in perspective to that insatiable thirst to believe that we are what we say we’re worth. The song feels somewhat defeatist, with anecdotes that reflect the themes of social media presence and loss of identity as a means to survival, and repeated wondering of not going anywhere at all. The latter is an acoustic song that acts like a summary and conclusion to the story of the artist chasing validation. Through no metaphors, the lyrics point out how they continue to see themselves in the viewing public as someone that is purposely contradictory but desperately seeking approval. The verses continue to highlight the struggle of living through stories of financial stability and sacrifices for the artist’s passion. The choruses are incredibly bleak, questioning the tragedies between someone who gives up a dream and someone who will continue to see failure because they were never destined for their dream, before ending with the most vulnerable lines of the album, teasing the listener with the sincerity and sentiments of the song (and album), and that such a lifestyle is so precarious that the artist may be prone to going any direction from here. The album then ends with a scene of the dying van not being able to start, ending with a feeling of defeat.
Whether it is bouncy and catchy songs like “Wannabe” or “I Made A Post” or reflective and somber songs like “Nightly Checks” and “Thirty-Three” or angry and frustrated songs like “Bottom of the Middle” and “This Could Be You”, they all have that special Devon Kay charm full of vulnerability and cynicism, along with cheeky dialogue dispersed throughout the songs as intermissions or as song banter, truly tying the album together. When you think about the life and ambition of the artist, anyone seeking acceptance and purpose in their existence can relate to questioning life directions and the frustrations of jumping through hoops for the next feeling of accomplishment. Devon Kay & The Solutions have truly delivered the “World’s Greatest Album”, and I hope that upon sharing these songs to the world, that they are able to continue to bring their infectious presence to venues and headphones around the world.
Take a listen to World’s Greatest Album below.
Written by Christian Ang
