In the decade that followed the 2015 release of Field Medic’s debut full-length, Light Is Gone, Kevin Sullivan took the project wherever his whims directed him. Singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and central force behind the Field Medic stage name, Sullivans songs could take the form of shaggy bedroom pop, dreamworld ether folk, country-tinged balladry, and more, all of it growing increasingly refined as time passed. Sullivan pulled no emotional punches as his sound grew from the romantic haze of 2019’s Fade Into the Dawn to the sharp, trap-informed sheen of 2023’s Chris Walla-produced Light Is Gone 2. He consistently used his lyrics to express raw perspectives of struggling as a touring musician, growing older in a scene centered around youth, and his relationship with sobriety. Arriving more than ten years and somewhere in the neighborhood of about 100 songs since this creative effort began, Surrender Instead finds Sullivan in full control of his myriad powers. Each song evokes part of Field Medic’s past but is presented in a heightened form, with new definition and a deeper self-awareness than before. The swaying pace and dreamlike instrumentation of opening track “Tricks & Illusions” are familiar traits shared with some of Sullivan’s best compositions, but here he weaves in understated layers of synths and delicate touches of otherworldly guitar leads twinkling in the background like distant stars. The lyrics are more immediate than earlier work as well, with diaristic accounts of Sullivan’s long and often difficult road as an independent artist. The song moves from scenes in his childhood bedroom to years spent grinding on the road in a tour van, but the delivery is calm and metered, avoiding hyperbole or overstatement and simply telling the story. Tracks like “Simply Obsessed” and “Inferno” call back the peppy drum machine rhythms and joyful bedroom pop hooks that Sullivan has used over the years, but scrub away the lo-fi grime of his earliest recordings in favor of crisp production. This increased legibility is also there in folk-leaning tracks like the banjo-driven “Falling Out” or the gentle acoustic beauty of “Castle Peaks,” and when he tries styles that are new to the Field Medic universe, like the winking ‘50s doo wop of “Melancholy.” It’s not just a production upgrade that makes Surrender Instead shine, however. Sullivan was consistently upping the recording quality of his songs for years before this, returning to his four-track-cassette roots only sometimes for the sake of nostalgic sweetness. In addition to a vivid sonic picture, Sullivan sounds more comfortable with himself than ever before. There’s a confidence and slow-moving self-assuredness that graces each melody, one that replaces the jittery charm of his earlier efforts. This feels like more than standard artistic maturation, perhaps because it’s connected to some of the most well-crafted and enjoyable Field Medic songs to date. Surrender Instead represents an artistic renewal. With so many years, songs, and shows logged, Sullivan sounds like he’s finally ready to begin. ~ Fred Thomas
Rovi