REVIEW: Field Medic’s ‘surrender instead’
REVIEW
REVIEW
☆ BY KORA ELMS FLEMING ☆
Photo by Derek Ted
FIELD MEDIC, AKA PATRICK SULLIVAN, NEVER TURNS HIS FACE FROM VULNERABILITY — While others dance around the feeling, Sullivan dances with it, spinning around and around until dizzy. His new album, surrender instead brings back what Field Medic fans love: intricate guitar picking, raw lyrics, and that coy charm. The album squishes the listener in the middle seat of the touring van, bringing you all back to Sullivan’s place to sit and have a chat too. Each track feels like a marker in time, a memory on the edge of fading, or one that you can’t stop picking at.
It's been ten years since Sullivan released his debut album, Light is Gone. With that ten years Sullivan’s been busy, maybe even too busy. His new album, surrender instead, is described in the press release as a “rebirth” after Sullivan’s “brief ‘mental retirement’ from the music business in 2024.” He returns with a maturity that could only be explained by a decade on the road.
The opening track of surrender instead, “tricks & illusions” is the longest track on the album. It’s slow and melodic with instrumentals that seem to take their time, pulling at your ear and telling you to sit down. The chorus, “I stared out the window for years in a van/And I let the crowd know who I really am/By the time that I got home/Broken, hungover again/I’d lost everything I’d known” immediately called me back to “used 2 be a romantic” from his 2019 album, fade into dawn.
Pulling maybe a little sleight of hand, Sullivan mirrors the past and watches himself in the reflection. “used 2 be a romantic” (also the opener of the 2019 album) is grittier with a chip on the shoulder. “I’m hungover in a hotel bed/I'm gonna hop in a big red van/Go to some city, do it all again.” “tricks & illusions” seems like a lesson learned, tipping his hat at the person he used to be.
In the year between his last release, Sullivan turned toward “a lifestyle centered on searching and healing,” per the press release. He explained, “I spent the last few years sober and in weekly therapy, which led to a lot of introspection about how everything affects what is now.” In surrender instead, you can hear the reflection on these moments. The tracks “castle peaks,” “no hometown,” and “falling out” are introspective and full of emotion. While “castle peaks” takes you through his travels, “falling out” details the worst kind of breakup of all…a friend. Sullivan captures those jagged, consuming feelings with an unfussy ease that is never void of heart.
Amongst all this reflection, Sullivan wouldn’t let you go without a sweet love song. “simply obsessed,” the third track on the record, is an upbeat, jangly tune that makes you feel like you’re quite literally falling head over heels, tripping on your laces in the process.
“opposite fantasies” and “INFERNO” hit you back to back with a twisted magic trick, Sullivan’s ability to get a listener caught up in the upbeat, groovy instrumentals and catchy hooks. His cadence and delivery of the lyrics give this illusion that everything is sunny and breezy, but when you take a second, or even third listen, "opposite fantasies” gives you a chorus of “I’ve got these opposite fantasies/One where I live a long time/Another one where I die soon.” This camouflage of Sullivan’s feelings is quickly revealed and put in front of you, giving you the chance to peel back the layers yourself.
Photo by Derek Ted
“INFERNO” is one of my favorites on the record. Like a modern play on the tale of Icarus, Sullivan flies directly into the sun. “Thought I could dance to mask a vacant stare/Thought I could salve my wounds with pills and beer/Though I’m young and acting cavalier/No matter where I’m at/It’s like I’m never here.” In this track, he lays out the construction of his very own faulty wings with distractions, a faulty path, and the overconfidence you need to fly directly into the sun, only to be met with a ball of fire.
The closer of the album, “the journey to the center of nothing,” brings everything back to the start. The lyrics seem to spill out of Sullivan, like a stream of his inner thoughts, frustrations, and acceptance with it all. It plays on this internal and external battle, grappling with the persona of Field Medic and himself.
surrender instead plays like a hero’s journey to Sullivan’s discography. It’s a look to the past with a haze of acceptance. To me, the album feels like a wrestling match with Peter Pan and his shadow. Sullivan leaves a piece of Field Medic’s shadow stuck in the window, giving some space for himself to dance into a new chapter.
