Kent Owens, a name that sounds like it should be on a library card next to “Hemingway,” but instead it’s on the digital shelf next to my slightly messy playlist. This Cambridge-based creator of soundscapes – I’m resisting calling them songs, but…well – just released “Fade Away,” a single that feels like an open window after a long winter. It’s a soft rock hum with a pop-rock sheen. We’re talking about a lyrical tug-of-war here, aren’t we? On one side is a life of curated beige, on the other, the neon-drenched memory of vibrant mistakes.
The melody is like a familiar route you take on autopilot. But the words… those are a jarring detour. Owens isn’t gently suggesting a change of pace, no. It’s more like he’s grabbed the wheel mid-turn and shouted, “Look where we are!” It’s about that quiet hum of potential, that artistic volcano sleeping under the mundane, a thing like when they found Tutankhamun’s tomb… except this isn’t about relics, it’s about rebirth. Do you think Tut was an avid listener of synth pop during the construction of the pyramids? Something tells me the ancient world knew how to find the rhythm.
The overall effect? It’s oddly comforting. In a way, Owens’ regret is our hope. His lyrics paint vivid portraits of stagnation – the self-imposed walls of “what is” vs. “what could be.” He seems genuinely terrified but fueled by some kind of… determined bewilderment. The drums are solid, the guitars like gentle nudges forward. The layers aren’t overwhelming; they’re there to support a clear voice searching through the static of habit. Perhaps a song, after all. Perhaps just this one.
“Fade Away” doesn’t just ask for a fresh start, it demands one. It’s a polite panic attack set to a catchy tune and it is… something. And isn’t it that “something” that we’re really all looking for?
Follow Kent Owens on YouTube and Soundcloud.
