Five years ago, Tyler Ballgame was living at home in Rhode Island, singing cover songs and fronting a fledgling local indie rock band. After the pandemic lockdowns, he moved to Los Angeles on a whim, toiled on the open mic circuit, and eventually landed a record deal. His singing voice is an astonishing instrument, recalling David Bowie’s theatrics and Roy Orbison’s bombastic vocal style. But Ballgame’s debut, For the First Time, Again, fails to put enough of his own spin on things. It sounds all too like the growing pains of a cover-band singer trying to refashion himself as an original.
The triumphant power of Ballgame’s voice is both his gift and Achilles heel. He flexes his range as if he’s auditioning for Berklee (where he was a student for a short time), giving many songs an unfortunate theater-kid quality. He quickly establishes his power and range, but then seems intent on continuously proving them, which overshadows his writing. On “Sing How I Feel,” his whimsical delivery makes the verses’ attempt at hero’s-journey poetics ring hollow. Then, he sings the regrettable final refrain: “I can only sing how I feel,” he repeats, oscillating his voice from falsetto to baritone like a bleeding songbird, whimpering and exalting the phrase in a way that sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of the statement.
Along with the clear Bowie and Orbison inspiration, the album’s influences reflect the tastes of someone recently enchanted by the romance of California. There’s the airiness of the Eagles, the self-seriousness of Jim Morrison, and even the quirkiness of Strawberry Alarm Clock. Some parallels are quite overt: The album’s first 30 seconds practically mirrors Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You,” and Ballgame’s delivery on “Matter of Taste” is lockstep with Dexys Midnight Runners’ 1982 hit “Come On Eileen” (though with no killer hook to match). The production, helmed by Jonathan Rado of Foxygen and Ryan Pollie of Los Angeles Police Department, offers a bright, analog sound that is predominantly a vehicle for Ballgame’s vocals. Rado’s penchant for horns is a highlight, and the songs’ vintage guitar riffs and worn-in pianos provide a strong foundation. If the intention was to give Ballgame a bog standard ’70s rock sound, mission accomplished.
Ballgame’s most effective tracks take a more measured approach. “Ooh” begins as a calming lull, as Ballgame sings in a distant, seductive voice. Then, just before the three-minute mark, the keys intensify and the guitar crunches as he begins to sing with his chest, breaking the trance by revealing the strength of his voice—but this time, through temperance. “Got a New Car,” the strongest writing on the album, is surreal and self-deprecating, with lyrics depicting the destruction of the old self and reclamation of the new. Ballgame sings them with the tone of a sugar-hyped child, as if he’s celebrating a second chance he never thought he’d get. For the most part though, For the First Time, Again is weighed down by oversinging and emotional affectation. Tyler Ballgame has a special voice; he just hasn’t yet made it distinct.
