It’s fleeting, flooding, flickering fun. Sam Lewis’ album “Everything’s Fine” mirrors a watercolor painting — 11 different shades trickling down the page — or tiny sprinkles decorating hand-scooped vanilla bean ice cream. There’s extra creamy Reddi Wip and a maraschino cherry on top. You can’t help but dig in, down to the bottom of a sundae cup where the melted bits lie.
The songster’s shadow keeps him where he is as he wishes upon a passing car in his release. It’s a thoughtful, poetic, introspective account of music which Lewis offers with grace and poise. It’s every bit as peaceful and reassuring as it is lively, aromatic, and sun-kissed. Imagine a spring afternoon pulled from the pages of “Homes and Gardens”: a chaise lounge by the pool, blooming flowers nearby and ice-cold lemonade on a wicker table.
With a pair of headphones on, you close your eyes, nearly falling asleep as a warm breeze carries you away with each chord progression. The songs are simple, not forced. Effortless, not astounding. Think John Prine’s storytelling, effective rhyme scheme (“Have you ever stood at the kitchen sink, stopped to wash a dish and think…”) and lightly bubbling bluegrass fingerstyle.
There’s magic in pockets of quiet space when you least expect it. It’s the album you never knew you needed. And it’s here to stay, lingering long after the first note sets sail and the last one fades.
Tune in at https://www.samlewistunes.com/