The largely unacknowledged open secret lying at the heart of
Rick Springfield's career is how, at his core, he's a serious artist. His gift for power pop and his spell as a television actor obscured this essential fact, but on the many albums he's made since his popular peak during the early '80s, he regularly returns to sober subjects, which means most of his fans may not be surprised that he spends the bulk of his 2018 album
The Snake King exploring depression, faith, political confusion, and other weighty ideas. Even so, he hits these subjects hard throughout
The Snake King, his lyrical explicitness finding a match in a shift his music: He's moved from arena rock toward heavy blues and folk-rock anthems straight from
Bob Dylan in 1965. Given that he's a fine guitarist and craftsman, this isn't quite as startling in sound as it is on paper.
Springfield always danced at the edge of guitar heroics -- even
Working Class Dog, his power pop classic, is filled with muscled six-strings -- but he's never taken as much time to shred as he does here. He holds his own as a soloist, but what commands attention on
The Snake King is his rococo lyrics, how he chases after
Dylan on the opening and closing numbers "Land of the Blind" and "Orpheus in the Underworld" (especially the latter, which is his own spin on "Desolation Row"), while spending time cocking a snook at convention on "Santa Is an Anagram" and "Jesus Was an Atheist." These song titles alone suggest
Springfield is trying a little bit too hard on
The Snake King, and he is -- he's overcompensating by overloading the album with verses and volume -- but that's also its charm. He's intent on delivering something bracing, loud and new, and on that front, he not only succeeds but winds up with something idiosyncratic and compelling. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine