Field Medic, the moniker of singer-songwriter Kevin Patrick Sullivan, could be the patron saint of trendy, edgy art students. He’s got an evolved hipster look, complete with painted nails, a mullet, lots of denim, and heavy metal fonts. He plays shows accompanied by a boombox and writes zines of haikus. Following his trajectory of autobiographical work, his latest album Floral Prince spins a mythology of his time getting sober and growing up before and during quarantine.
Prince continues in the same aesthetic vein as previous Field Medic projects. It’s made up of intimate details and a vaguely tawdry but honest sense of humor. It’s a mix of light and dark that leads to a tonal balance that keeps a listener engaged. The despair that comes with getting older and sober doesn’t overwhelm the listener due to those deft comedic accents. Songs like “i want you so bad it hurts” and “talkin johnny and june” provide some of those lighter moments in contrast to “HEADCASE”, “older now (it hurts”, and “TRANQUILIZED”. “i will not mourn who i was that has gone away”, one of the strongest tracks, has a bittersweet message to it that condenses the overall feel of the album into one song.
The live recordings and lo-fi production harken back to 60’s folk singer-songwriters. This style frames the personal narratives of the lyrics as quintessential narratives of young Americans. There isn’t any overt political messaging, but the album poignantly describe the struggles this generation faces nowadays. Sullivan’s warbly voice and twangy guitar sound also allude to Americana and the tradition of personal, tragic ballads. Thus further highlights his place as a bard of millenials/gen-zers in the American folk canon.
He’s a spinner of folk-tales for 20-somethings trying to pull their lives together into some sort of order. He describes youthful yearnings in “i want you so bad it hurts”, outlining a relationship that’s more picturesque than substantive. It reads like a twee rom-com–reminiscent of a Zoey Deschanel flick or a Scott Pilgrim fantasy–which, though naive, is fun to imagine. A few songs explicitly talk about personal growth and along with it, the decision to get sober. “it’s so lonely being sober” observes the difficult balance of choosing to improve oneself while seemingly undercutting one’s enjoyment of life. In the moment, it’s fun to indulge and be a little self-destructive, but in abstaining you avoid consequences: “tomorrow [you] won’t be hungover”.
Although it paints an engaging portrayal of the indie musician lifestyle, previous Field Medic projects brought a little more charm to the table. Songs like “talkin johnny & johnny” ft. Pickleboy capture some of the organic quality that Songs from the Sunroom and fade into dawn had, but other recordings could benefit from a little bit of roughing up, particularly “bundle of hyacinths” and “better way”. His trademark boombox is missing from these renditions of the songs, and its absence is noted.
Despite a couple of production missteps, this album projected a nostalgic feeling even upon the first listen. With the ongoing global pandemic, shows and parties simply aren’t an option currently. For me, Floral Prince captures the winters and summers of attending little house shows, listening to small artists play their hearts out. I first encountered Field Medic at a local venue in my hometown, and he truly put on a great performance as an opener for Beach Bunny. I wouldn’t know of him otherwise. Prince is a reminder that, even if life as it was could be kind of uneventful or difficult, it was important to have those odd little experiences to become who we are.
