Kevin Kirby used to play guitar in the Little Rock, Arkansas, band Ho-Hum. A few years back, they signed to a major label (Universal), put out a debut record, drove around the country, came home, got out of their contract, and released a second record on their own. Kirby is also a painter and the product of a small, Southern religious college.
Plenty of tension there, and much of it provides the central theme to Mulehead’s debut (Kirby is joined here by Ho-Hum’s ex-drummer, Dave Hoffpauir, and two friends). Kirby’s songs are full of the specifically Southern pull between Saturday night and Sunday morning, and are startlingly unguarded at times. Some times too much so; “Baby Brother” and “Kudzu” (the latter as a metaphor for love) in particular are a bit saccharine.
For the most part, though, these are warmly confessional pieces, set off simply to a casual, country beat and carried by Kirby’s loping guitar. He proves a gifted songwriter whose themes and approach are slightly reminiscent of Billy Joe Shaver.
In some ways, Never Again sounds like a retirement announcement, as if Kirby is unable to reconcile the pull of the road, the bottle, and the muted pleasures of playing strange bars with his deeply held religious beliefs. Nowhere is this more touchingly expressed than in the final song, “Pray For Me”. He sings in a worn, morning after voice: “If you wanted/I could take you two-stepping/Out on that hardwood floor/Spin till we can’t spin no more/But I ain’t no dancer/And you ain’t my gal/Pray for me.” Do; pray that he continue.