Both in terms of background and content of his lyrically witty and insightful, musically rollicking and infectiously eclectic songs, it’s quite impossible not to love Tom Ciurczak, who (seemingly strategically) waited till middle age to regale us with his narrative relatability and exciting array of vocal and, even more impactfully, stellar songwriting talents.
In my glowing review of his 2023 album I Ain’t Ever Growing Up, Vol. I, I immersed in his classic rock background, his years as a successful lighting business owner and his desire to be the latest purveyor of rock and roll’s “Peter Pan Syndrome.” It was also important to note that Ciurczak paved the way for these paeans to eternal youth with the solid success of his critically acclaimed 2020 album Call Me Ishamel, which earned airplay on over 250 stations throughout the U.S. and Europe.
At one point, I hopefully wrote about, “the upcoming Volume II, which you’ll no doubt be hankering for after hearing these tunes (on Vol. 1).” It didn’t take this prolific fount of eternally youthful wit, wisdom and guitar-driven rollick and frolic long to follow up. It was less than a year in fact (punctuated by a whimsical holiday album California Christmas Tales), which leads me to believe he had these in the can the whole time and could have dropped a whopping double album all at once. But it’s better than he spaced them out a bit, because even at only eight songs and 31 minutes each (how perfectly symmetrical is that?), he blissfully gives our minds, hearts and souls a lot of passion, energy and narrative magic to take to heart.
Once again, and testament to his esteem among some of the industry’s most acclaimed veteran musicians, Ciurczak taps only the best and brightest to help him realize his vision. Complementing his lead vocals and acoustic guitar, his ensemble includes Matt Hornbeck (electric guitar), Travis Carlton (bass), Aaron Durr (keyboards), Kenny Aronoff and Steven Haaker (drums), Matt Lomeo (harmonica) and Richie Gajate Garcia (percussion). It was produced and engineered by Stephen Haaker and Brett Grossman.
As we gleefully dig into I Ain’t Ever Growing Up, Vol. II, the first thing that hits us (again!) is the singer’s keen, highly detailed and uber-charming storytelling skills. In fact, we may wonder why the spirited, Springsteen/Mellencampesque, guitar and piano fired heartland rocker opener “Small Town Girls” runs a few minutes longer (5:39) than all the other tunes. That’s because the dude has a wild story to tell and frees himself from limitations as he extolls the virtue of small town girls who “grow up fast and grow up tough” with “summer flowers in their hair” while breezing past the innocence and rebellion of youth through an uncertain young adulthood and on to an post-Army adulthood where “Friday night is still the same/You and I are still linked in that unbroken chain.” There’s a lot to say and Ciurzczak ain’t afraid to keep saying it.
One of the most beautiful and compelling aspects of this collection is the way the singer offsets wild and crazy, whimsy-filled capers and cautionary tales with heartfelt (well, more like heartbreaking) romantic expressions. First, the mini screenplays/soap operas. Ciurczak’s movie-like narrative excitement doesn’t get much better than the alt-rock/country romp “Mexican Jail,” which, harkening back a bit to Elton John’s mid-70s border town drama “Grow Some Funk of Your Own,” chronicles a wild drunken night where he blacks out, is left for dead and is the only one of his friends to wind up in a cell.
The fiery and feisty “Day Drinker” portrays him as a defiant adult so dedicated to his addiction that he dismisses a friend’s attempt to get him into a program because he’s just, well “a day drinker” who thinks no harm will come. He predicts “an early grave” for himself but seems okay with it. And the buoyant, foot stomping, throbbing bass driven “Not My Problem” seems to glorify the way youthful hedonism translates to adult narcissism – until of course, the end, where he’s the one who needs help and no one cares.
These rockin’ character driven Americana gems remind us that part of not growing up is not developing adult sensibilities of personal responsibility and compassion for others. Yet Ciurczak makes it sound so much fun that it might not hit us that it’s kind of, well, morally wrong. As he sings in “Day Drinker,” I can do what I want to/Don’t judge me.” The idea that there’s a little bit of this defiance in all of us. As if to emphasize the point, Ciurczak infuses the long promised title track “I Ain’t Ever Growing Up” with his desire to just follow along the road wherever it leads, indifferent to its many unique stops or what he can learn from them. Hey, it may not set an example for the next generation (like hey Gen Z, figure it out for yourselves), but there’s something refreshing in his blunt, brutal honesty; “I ain’t ever growing up/Ain’t ever getting old/Going to be this way till I die.”
As for the lovelorn tunes, let’s start with the first, “Lie to Me.’ Though it jangles and gallops playfully along like a classic Yacht Rock gem, there’s a sadness to it. He’s aware the relationship is ending, he and his lover are drifting apart, but he urges her in the chorus to “Lie to me/Tell me that you’re still in love/So I believe it’s true/Cause I’m still in love with you.” Very straightforward, nothing overly poetic and clever, yet it’s an essential glimpse into the songwriter’s heart beyond the rebellious bravado. Despite its seemingly hopeful title, “Heaven” artfully combines the rage and pain of a failed, miserable relationship with the anger aroused by the prospect of the once significant other coming back for another try. He urges her, “Heaven’s just a shot away/Better do it right.”
The promo materials call the all-at-once cynical/depressing and hopeful/love conquers all dilemma of the closer “War of the Worlds” Ciurczak’s David Bowie styled tune and his vocal modulations are definitely smoother, darker and different than his trademark edgy raspiness. It feels like a veiled acknowledgement of the ultimate ravages of climate change, couched in a hilarious “Martians have taken L.A.” scenario. But he’s also grateful to have a lovely companion with him to witness the end of all things. The contrasting imagery of a hopeful leap to their death with the possibility that God will save them (and by extension, all of us) captures our sociopolitical zeitgeist perfectly. It’s almost like he wraps the set with a message that all this childish, self-centered behavior has consequences, but perhaps all is not lost if we make better choices moving forward.
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