like father, like son: a narrative in poetry and guitar

I first listened to this album in New England spring.

Then I listened to it again, on an unseasonably hot day. Which seems appropriate, given the poetry about fishing.

I printed part of a chapbook listening to this, over the sound of an old motor. The motor makes strange creaking noises, because the belt is catching on something, and the guitar reaches over the top of the clank as the cylinder reaches the end of the press. Words are indistinct — it is more of a tonal arc around the sound of printing.

I listened to it in a car, stuck in rush hour traffic in the industrial back end of Boston.

Someone recently said something like “but who sits down and listens to music anymore?” in conversation. I don’t, I admit it. I stand up. I walk. You know. I don’t sit to set type, why would I sit for music?

Anyway, Ken Hada is one of my favorite people, so I’m obviously biased, but here’s the thing: Ken, and the people he is surrounded with, have forced me to admit that sometimes (only sometimes) I like poetry — by being so good at it. Ken’s voice is perfectly suited to reading his own work, which is an exception. (Most people, I have concluded, should not be allowed to read their own work. They think too hard about it.)

Kenny, like his father, is an inspiration. I know a small, precious handful of people who are so good at what they do, and such delightful humans, that they inspire an urge to work better. Or at least to try harder. I’ve only met Kenny a few times — at Scissortail, where he provides a soundtrack — but he’s a sincerely charming young man of a sort I don’t encounter much in my everyday life.

So: listen to Ken & Kenny Hada play off of one another’s strengths, and see what it inspires in you.

reviewed by Regina Schroeder, Boston

Ken & Kenny Hada. Like Father, Like Son: A Narrative in Poetry and Guitar, produced by Chris Shofner, Ada OK, 2012.