This came out in 2001 – or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
Why do actors always think they can be rock stars?
I suspect they think being a singer is a lot like being in a play — you’re telling stories, you’re playing characters, you’re onstage. The truth is, they’re complete opposites. Acting is essentially about concealing your own personality, while songwriting and singing are all about baring it for the world to see. That’s why this third album by prolific actor Kevin Bacon and his composer brother Michael is, ultimately, just another vanity project. It’s not a lack of talent; Kevin can carry a tune reasonably well, he strums that gee-tar just fine and his brother pens some sweet string arrangements to complement their bouncy roots-rock and country-folk melodies. But anybody who writes a love song to a tour bus or begins a song about Paris with the lines: “It’s so wonderful, so magical, so romantic / Note to self to change that line, it’s too pedantic,” should not be allowed to quit their day job.
