On Ben Rector’s New Album: Nostalgia, Manhood and Magic
Ben Rector is not the only songwriter in recent memory who’s been inspired to wax poetic upon the birth of his first child. Example: In 2016, Sturgill Simpson released “A Sailor’s Guide to Earth,” an album-as-letter-to-his-newborn-son that the New York Times described as “a combination of striking vulnerability and tough love.”
Two years later, Rector has dropped “Magic,” a bright, buoyant collection of pop-rock songs packed with catchy hooks and pop culture-peppered lyrics. Sonically, ”Magic” and “A Sailor’s Guide” have little in common; but both were written and recorded while the artists navigated life as a new dad.
2016 feels like a different time for a lot of reasons, including that American culture has since begun a period of reckoning with masculinity set off by the #MeToo movement. After decades of perpetuating norms like “real men don’t talk about their feelings,” we seem to be waking up slowly to the idea that this may be counterproductive to the development of mentally and emotionally healthy human males. And that maybe, as a culture, we’d all be better off if we stopped deriding men for being in touch with their emotions.
As a society, we’re not there yet. But Ben Rector is.
On “Magic,” Rector sings unabashedly about his feelings. His lyrics are openly autobiographical but also deeply, nostalgically relatable — especially if you happen to be around his age (Rector was born in 1986).
There’s “I Will Always Be Yours,” a synth-y, soaring love song that pays homage to the golden era of power ballads via a massive guitar solo from Steve Stevens, the guitarist on the iconic Top Gun Anthem. “Duo,” a quirky, Jason Mraz-esque ode to couplehood, namechecks Joey and Chandler, Beyonce and Jay-Z, and Jesse and “the other uncle.” It’s more playful than profound, but it’s worth noting that this isn’t a song about sweeping a pretty girl off her feet by pledging to make her a princess. The relationship Rector sings about is more buddy comedy than fairy tale.
Romance isn’t the only kind of love that Rector explores on “Magic.” “Old Friends” is a heartfelt tribute to the childhood friends he still holds dear, some of whom he calls by name in the lyrics. The accompanying music video stars members of his high school band, was filmed in his parents’ garage, and features cheeky pop-up captions that suggest an artfully composed extended Instagram story (or, alternatively, a throwback to VH1’s Pop-Up video).
In the category of thoughtful self-reflection, there’s “Peace,” a meditation on learning to accept one’s life and self in the present moment (also known as #mindfulness). “Boxes,” an ode to the hopeful first steps of a music career, illustrates how Rector’s perspective on his chosen path has evolved since his days as a wide-eyed newcomer to the scene. “Sometimes,” co-written with the masterful Dan Wilson (see also: Semisonic’s “Closing Time,” Adele’s “Someone Like You,” etc. etc.) captures the balance of longing and acceptance in wondering what might have been.
The album concludes with “Love Like This,” a piano-and-strings ballad expressing the overwhelming love and awe of first-time fatherhood: “It’s the way you’re smiling at me / it’s in the way you hold my hand / it’s the way I’ve watched you change me from a boy into a man […] I have never known a love like this.” The lessons, stories and emotions that make up the rest of the record all lead here.
Ben Rector is not a trailblazing musical renegade on par with Sturgill Simpson. He’s an affable Midwestern pop singer and a new dad who is so steeped in joy and wonder that the world seems full of magic. And on his new album, he shows us how he got here — as well as what it means to be a man in the kind of world where he’d like to see his little girl grow up.
