There is a particular kind of songwriter who understands that melancholy sometimes appears through exhaustion, small moments of grace, awkward human connection or the strange relief of simply surviving long enough to laugh at yourself again. And on ‘Songs for the Swung’, Kenton Hall & The Necessary Measures build an album around precisely those emotional contradictions.
Following the sprawling ambition of ‘Idiopath’, Hall’s latest record feels comparatively focused, though “focused” remains a relative term when dealing with an artist whose instincts constantly pull toward chamber pop excess, folk intimacy, literate storytelling and ragged indie-rock (often within the same song). Yet ‘Songs for the Swung’ succeeds because it channels those impulses into a record about damaged people attempting, however imperfectly, to reconnect with life.
The title alone says much about the album’s perspective. These songs belong to the emotionally bruised, the overlooked and the quietly unravelling. He approaches those characters with empathy but also a dry, self-aware humour that prevents the record from collapsing into self-pity.
‘The Sun Shone Down’ acts as the emotional centrepiece. Built around swelling harmonies and richly layered instrumentation, it captures a rare moment of uncomplicated human connection without overstating its importance. Hall wisely avoids turning the song into sentimental catharsis. Instead, it feels observational and grateful, recognising fleeting comfort for what it is.
Elsewhere, ‘Lick of Paint’ stands out as one of the album’s sharpest lyrical moments, pairing bright melodic momentum with a quietly biting examination of power and image management. ‘Heart Enough’ carries the weight of long-held emotional history, while ‘Holly Says’ explores neglect and emotional erosion with unsettling restraint.
The album’s closing track ‘Strangely, I’m Feeling Much Better Today’ may be the clearest expression of the record’s underlying philosophy. It is hopeful, but cautiously so, acting as the sound of someone learning to exist with their scars rather than pretending they disappeared altogether.
What ultimately makes ‘Songs for the Swung’ resonate is its refusal to simplify emotional experience into easy conclusions. The songs are filled with flawed people, unfinished recoveries and contradictory impulses. But there is generosity in how Hall writes about them, and perhaps about himself.
For all its humour, literary references and elaborate arrangements, the album’s real strength lies in its humanity. It understands that sometimes survival itself is worth singing about, especially when you can still find melody, beauty and the occasional clarinet solo inside the wreckage.
