by David Wilikofsky
From an artistic perspective, happiness is harder to make interesting than conflict. As an example, take The Office; perhaps this is a controversial take, but Pam and Jim were incredibly boring after the “will they, won’t they” tension of their relationship evaporated and they just enjoyed hanging out together. With his latest album, The Unlikely Optimist and His Domestic Adventures, Jerry David DeCicca proves that happiness can be as dynamic a subject matter as tension or conflict. DeCicca is a veteran musician who played for over a decade in a band called The Black Swans. The Unlikely Optimist, the fourth album is his growing solo oeuvre, is an album that sparkles with joy from beginning to end.
Much like another favorite album from this year, DeCicca’s writing focuses on the minutiae of everyday life and the simples pleasures to be found therein. He sings about the thirteen steps down to his basement, sitting on his front porch and catching toads. Rituals such as how you take your coffee become personal reflections on aging and growth. Toppings for toast are turned into a Michael Hurley-esque romp about positivity. It’s consistently inventive songwriting that brings the subject matter to life; by the end, you feel like you’re there on the porch or walking down to that basement.
As much as the album is an ode to happiness, it’s also one to Texas. The state’s landscape figures heavily into DeCicca’s writing, whether it looms in the foreground of “I See Horizons” and is home to the titular Texas toad. But there’s also a clear spiritual connection between the album and the state. Perhaps no song reflects this better than “West Texas Trilogy”; dubbed a road song, it winds and drifts through the physical and psychic Texas landscape. DeCicca sings about seeing Townes Van Zandt play when he was nineteen, the “ghosts of dancehall heroes”, and the songwriter Leon Payne (who wrote “Lost Highway”, later make famous by Hank Williams). DeCicca’s backing band also figures into this Texas musical history, playing with the likes of The Sir Douglas Quintet and The Bad Livers. While the presence and legacy of these and other quintessentially Texas artists linger on the periphery, the album is DeCicca’s own unique entry into the Texas music canon.
Throughout 2020, I’ve been drawn to the kind of music DeCicca makes. For one, I’ve ridden out the pandemic in one of the biggest cities in the world; any glimpse into a landscape of wide open spaces is welcome. But it’s the type of music that offers emotional refuge as well, generously opening up a gentle world of small wonders up to anyone willing to listen. It’s escapism, but the type of escapism that also make you come back to your own world with a renewed appreciation for the simple pleasures of your daily life. Given the year we’ve had, you can’t ask for much more from an album.
I’ll leave you with this infomercial DeCicca made about the album, which is about as delightful as the album itself.