Yusuf / Cat Stevens’ childlike and zestful King of a Land ranks among his lightest and most optimistic pieces

The contorted path to this stage started almost 60 years ago. In 1965, when the British singer-songwriter signed with Ardmore & Beechwood and recorded a few demos, he put out his first studio album Matthew and Son two years later, to commendable critical success. But it was his fourth record Tea for the Tillerman, released in 1970, that swiftly escorted him to the greatest height of his career and established him as a master of folk-rock anthems. Renowned for its accessible yet evocative lyricism and spellbinding production, Tea for the Tillerman was an indisputably stupendous landmark, so much so that he remade all of its songs in 2020, hoping to bring new lights to the work – although to no avail.

Yusuf had a prolific career as Cat Stevens, releasing new music year after year until a life-threatening incident launched him into a frantic search for a spiritual anchor. After discovering his faith in the Quran – hence his conversion to Islam and subsequent name change – he abandoned music for over 25 years, only returning to it hesitantly (due to fear of unforeseen blasphemy) in 2006 as Yusuf Islam. Nearly two decades later, now using a combined alias of Yusuf / Cat Stevens, King of a Land is his sixth solo release since the return. It ranks among his lightest and most optimistic pieces: a wishful boy occupies the spotlight as the protagonist of 12 story-driven, semi-autobiographical songs about God, faith, and the current state of the world.

Deemed by himself as “a very clearly defined description of where [he’s] been and who [he is]”, King of a Land spends its 43 minutes pacing back and forth between treacly folk themes, sultry country jams, and feathery pop light-ups. As the album cover suggests, most of the music is childlike and zestful, made exclusively for the much younger generations. The sing-along “Another Night in the Rain” begins with frisky synth steps redolent of raindrops, followed by a punchy drum pattern that tows a catchline: “I’m walking alone to the sound of my steps / Talking to no one.” These songs sound more accessible than ever before – ones that could instantly make children smile and hum along – though unfortunately, it doesn’t always fit with the lyrical content of the record.

God, the Quran, and the story of bought-and-sold Joseph (whose Arabic rendition is Yusuf) are pronounced themes on King of a Land, which, in a way, proves him a devout artist. These direct references nourish the light that guides the narrator, as well as the listeners, towards a more promising resolution. Yusuf sings about such a phenomenon on “Son of Mary”, consoling the crushed and lost souls that “God will bless and show you the way”. “Don’t be alone,” he comforts them. “He [God’s witness] will reach out when God says so.” His deep devotion to Islam is so apparent that King of a Land could be viewed as a comprehensive set of Hamds (praises for God), thus appearing inadvertently proselytising and didactic, which some consider undesirable in children’s music.

The greatest tracks on this album, however, aren’t Hamds nor lessons on modern life – but depictions of gruesome reality that, rather than explicitly telling like the others, connote grief and trauma sprouted from endless war. “The Boy Who Knew How to Climb Walls” is a devastating ode to loss, rendering in horrific detail the story of a child who lost his brother-like friend at war. In the final minute, Yusuf sings the refrain “I can see him floating in the air” over the ascending hums of gentle strings and guitar as if sending him to heaven. “How Good It Feels” follows it as the record’s penultimate track, once again recounting the tragic events during the war in a father-to-child manner. Heartfelt stories such as these show – not tell; King of a Land does so in the last leg, but there’s always a nagging wonder of what the record would’ve been had it done so throughout its entirety.