Although it's technically his third 'official' album (following on from the well-received "Rocket DIY" and the perennial favourite "Kenny & Beth's Musakal Boat Rides"), there's a distinct feeling in the air that "KC Rules OK" is more Kenny Anderson's 'debut' in real terms: the big budget production number that - like "Do The Collapse" by Guided By Voices and Baby Bird's "Ugly Beautiful" - will bring in a potentially much bigger talent in from the cult wilderness.
And there may even be some truth in the theory, too, because while KC'S self-produced albums (mostly available via his excellent Fife-based Fence Collective outlet) harbour considerable wayward genius, their lo-fi tendencies and sometime Howe Gelb-style inability to succumb to judicious editing have ensured they remain curate's eggs in the wider scheme of things.
So, in a sense at least, it would be a shame if Kenny Anderson's talent was left to merely cast a long shadow over his Fife contemporaries and no more. Yet, on paper the idea of introducing such an upredictable talent to bigger budgets could be hazardous. Surely our hero wouldn't lose his head and bring in huge string sections in 72-track studios, would he?
Well, aren't we the the doubting Thomases?! How could we even begin to think "KC Rules OK" wouldn't be touched by the hand of off-kilter wonder that guides all Kenny's releases or come up with a suitable band of collaborators. Shame on us, eh?
Inevitably, "KC Rules OK" makes mincemeat of such looming concerns. Yes, it does sound like it cost considerably more than a couple of cans of irn bru to record and it also features a full band. But then, what's wrong with that? Besdies, said band are cool Americana-reinventionists The Earlies, who know a thing or two about understated beauty and prove themselves the perfect backdrop for Kenny's beautifully wry and lovelorn songs throughout "KC Rules OK." The more you hear them together, the more they sound like a marriage made in indie-folk heaven.
Gorgeous, plaintive recent single "Favourite Girl" was a neat introduction to their alchemy, but it's by no means the only sparkler in this particular aladdin's cave. "KC Rules OK" proves to be laden down with introverted little gems and opens with one in "Not One Bit Ashamed", which through all manner of off-the-cuff wisdom from Kenny ("I gave up half my heart, you gave me a half-hearted shrug") manages to be melancholy and curiously jaunty all at once. As in most cases, The Earlies play with restraitn and focus, embellishing but never smothering KC's performance.
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It's the first of a generous fist full of potential classics. The typically off-the-wall carnival of "Boot Prints" is another, with fruity seaside hammond organ, trombones and even vibes being utilised to create a lovely sonic riot that comes on like a cross between Blur and Tindersticks at (really) their most playful. "Jump At The Cats" is rollicking good fun, too: a piano'n'rolling drums-led romp that's both infectious and the kind of rustic folky Motown by-product Fence cohorts James Yorkston & The Athletes have previously moulded into their own image.
The album really comes into its' own once it hits the home strait, however. "I'll Fly By The Seat Of My Pants" might sound like an epithet for Kenny's art, but it's a keening ballad par excellence with shades of Americana, not least when KC sings "there's a darkness I'll keep to myself" and recalls Will Oldham. It's utterly lovely, though arguably eclipsed by the album's epic "678", which is initially frail and seemingly autobiographical ("No, I was never going to be first out of the stalls, no I was never gonna be six, seven, eight feet tall") before the band get hold of it and it becomes - dare we say it -'anthemic'. Besides, anyone who can resist that tearjerking "I was hoping I might just get by" singalong at the end must have a heart of purest granite.
That would seem the obvious place to insert a full stop, but KC still has "Marguerita Red" in reserve and somehow this slice of piano-led elegance - featuring maybe the album's most heartbreaking lyric of all in "I would be crying my eyes out, I still don't think you'd hold me" - is an even more perfect way to bid fond adieu. For the next few months at least.
"KC Rules OK", then, finds our none-more lo-fi hero making the transition to the larger stage with an ease verging on the nonchalent. We always knew he had it in him, of course, but maybe he needed The Earlies' discipline and inventiveness to push him to the limit too. Whatever, the chemistry's bang on here and you know what they say about not fixing what ain't broke to begin with.
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