Evryman for Himself suggests his intent is to be both at once and the results are utterly contagious in their own weird little way. Unlike his more intimate Disaster, an album that plays to Knox’s quieter side, Evryman for Himself is more forward and assertive. While Knox is capable of tapping out a lovely waltz and crooning along with a smoldering falsetto, as on the (creepy) standout opener “GhostSong”, many of these new tracks play to New Orleans street sounds or, perhaps, vaudeville, with fat horns, marching drums and an all-round playful feel. Knox’s bandmates make a capable foil to his dynamic presence, fleshing out his keyed melodies with sounds that vary by invoking all sorts of traditional disciplines; American busker sounds, lounge music and kazoo solos all show up around Knox’s piano.
These boisterous tracks are less immediate than Knox’s early ballads and intentionally quirky, a gamble that only reinforces how unusual of a performer Knox really is.
And for better or worse, Evryman for Himself is dominated by Knox’s unusual prose and his throaty tenor. His voice is the most unique and commanding instrument here, switching from brutish and sinister to operatic and damaged, sometimes all in the same song. He actually ends up warbling with a practiced vibrato on just about every track. Depending on the song’s instrumentation, the slower tracks actually recall early Murder by Death as his voice can be a deadringer for Adam Turla and company at their most gothic and least country. That classical and somewhat archaic delivery is not something you hear to often outside of Broadway these days.
