CD Odyssey Disc 490: The Decemberists

Wednesdays are usually hurried affairs, where I race from work to the gym to guitar lessons and back home.  Today guitar lessons were cancelled, so instead I practiced at home for a while and will now turn my attention to some folks that already know how to play guitar, and write good music while doing it.

Disc 490 is… The King is Dead

Artist: The Decemberists

Year of Release:  2011

What’s up with the Cover?  A lovely photo looking up at some conifers.  This cover appeals to me.  I’ve always found the woods a soothing place to go, and these trees remind me of places near where I grew up.

How I Came To Know It:  My friends Cat and Ross introduced me to the Decemberists through a song on their 2006 album, “The Crane Wife” (reviewed back at Disc 154) and I’ve been a fan ever since.  “The King is Dead” was just me buying their recent release when it came out.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Decemberists albums (I only had two when I last reviewed them, so the collection is growing).  “The King is Dead” is my clear favourite of all of them.  I’m only missing one of their full length studio albums now, but I have a hard time believing it will surpass “The King is Dead” when I do get it.

Rating:  5 stars

Tragically, for many bands their first album is their best album.  In the case of the Decemberists, it is the reverse.  Their most recent release, 2011’s “The King is Dead” is the pinnacle of what they’ve done so far and leaves me with high hopes on what will come next.

This record is the perfect mix of reimagined sixties Brit-pop and modern American folk music, which is the best combination modern indie music manages.  It errs heavily on the side of folk, which is the right side of this particular amalgam to err on.

Listening to this album I was happily reminded of a street corner conversation I recently had with my friend Lawrence, about how all the ‘kids these days’ thought they’d reinvented music, but all they’ve actually done is rediscovered folk music.  Welcome back, music world – me and a few other folks have been keeping the seat warm for you.

Colin Meloy writes a beautiful song, and the tastefully restrained ten tracks on “The King is Dead” is his best work, taking very simple and beautiful constructions and letting them stand on their own, without a lot of excess noise or production wizardry that would only detract from the melodies.

I also love Meloy’s voice on this record.  He has a vibrant and sprightly tone on all his records, but on “the King is Dead” it is perfectly suited to these songs, which are both triumphant and tragic.  These are songs to be sung out like anthems, celebrating the world and refusing to let its darker parts drag you down.

Of course anthems are a lot more than empty slogans; to work they have to have something to say.  The lyrics on this record consistently move me, despite my ongoing insistence to overplay the living hell out of every song.

The album begins with “Don’t Carry It All,” which is a song with a reminder that we are on this planet together, and need to hold one another up as a community.  I’ve always felt that for all our cynicism, mankind’s greatest hope is that our next evolutionary jump will be the one to true empathy.  When I listen to “Don’t Carry It All” I feel the chasm of that jump is that much smaller.  Also, it has some of my favourite lyrics in any folk song, and I’ve heard a few:

“A monument to build beneath the arbors

Upon a plinth that towers t’wards the trees

Let every vessel pitching hard to starboard

Lay its head on summer’s freckled knees.”

Every time I hear this, I see those ships in my mind’s eye leaning hard into the wind, a crew of sailors all leaning hard off the other side of the ship keeping her course true.  Those sailors are us, my friends! Moreover, like the way Meloy ends the song with a healthy dose of responsibility among the roses:

“So raise a glass to turnings of the season

And watch it arc towards the sun

And you must bear your neighbour’s burden within reason

And your labours will be borne when all is done.”

I like that within the teamwork, there is an understanding that we don’t have to carry it all, but we do have to carry our part, and know the rest will work itself out.

There are two hymns on the album, “January Hymn” and “June Hymn.” They’re not really hymns in that they’re not religious in any way unless you count the type of experience they give me when I listen to them.  

“January Hymn” is a song of parting; mournful and sere, just like January can be.  The chorus captures the single moment the song revolves around.

“What were the words I meant to say before you left?

When I could see your breath lead

Where you were going to.”

There is a beautiful disconnect expressed here, as Meloy cleverly writes the line to intimate that the person the narrator wishes to speak his heart to has already turned away – physically and otherwise.  A great song doesn’t beat you over the head with it; it establishes the emotion and lets the words carry you through it.

“June Hymn” is, as you’d expect, the opposite of its wintry cousin.  Scenes of spring abound, turning to the full bloom of summer and the possibilities of the future.  Images of ‘Garland all the lawn’, ‘A barony of ivy in the trees’ mingle with the human activity of ‘pegging clothing on the line’ but the best line is the sound of birds blending their songs in the background:

“Here’s a hymn to welcome in the day

Heralding a summer’s early sway

And all the bulbs coming in

To begin

The thrushes bleating with the wrens

Disrupts my reverie again.”

Damn that’s good stuff, and the music just makes it better.  It made me download some chords and tabs just in the hopes I can one day play it on guitar, and maybe add my own bleating to the lyrics.

Even the songs that appear to be a bit derivative, like “Rox in the Box” which lifts the traditional melody straight from the folk classic “Raggle Taggle Gypsy” does so as an homage, building on that tradition rather than stealing from it.  When I finally recognized why I knew the riff so well it wasn’t a betrayal, it was a revelation.

On a completely different note, I like that Meloy, with his heavy build, bad fashion and awkward haircut, is able to have a good career and get noticed for his craft.  Video temporarily killed the radio star, but with video banished to the fractured audience of Youtube, the radio star is making a comeback online.  Hooray for those who have the music, ugly or otherwise.

“The King is Dead” is only forty minutes long soaken-wet, and when it ends it leaves you wanting more.  In fact, it left me that way so many times I kept listening to it instead of writing the review and moving on.  Sorry for the delay on the CD Odyssey as a result, but it couldn’t be helped.  This record inspires me, and moreover it reminds me that I can still be inspired by music being written today as much as music from forty years ago.  For all the young people being inspired for the first time this way, I can only hope that they go on to do great things, musically or otherwise.  I’ll raise a glass to the turning of that season.

Best tracks:  All tracks, but my favourites include Don’t Carry it All, Rise to Me, Rox in the Box, January Hymn, June Hymn and This is Why We Fight

CD Odyssey Disc 489: Indigo Girls

Last night was a fun time at an art opening hosted by our friends Justin and Vero.  I met a lot of very cool people, and got reacquainted with some others I hadn't seen in a while.  All in all a great time, and now after a good sleep in I’m sitting safely inside on a windy Saturday talking about one of my favourite things – music.

Disc 489 is… Shaming of the Sun

Artist: Indigo Girls

Year of Release:  1997

What’s up with the Cover?  Ah, folk artists – you continue to underwhelm me with your album covers.  Here we have a couple of old dolls in a broken piece of wall which I believe are supposed to vaguely resemble Amy Ray and Emily Saliers.  The brunette “Amy Ray” doll stares creepily into middle distance while blonde “Emily Saliers” doll looks like is has been hanged.  The crime, no doubt, was this album cover.

How I Came To Know It:  This was just me digging through their collection, after having been hooked on their sound early in university on albums like “Strange Fire” (reviewed way back at Disc 50) and their self-titled effort, (reviewed at Disc 412).  I wasn’t terribly impressed with “Swamp Ophelia” three years earlier and this was my last chance to get re-energized with their sound.  “Shaming of the Sun” was better, but not enough that I kept going.  Maybe one day I’ll return, but not today.

How It Stacks Up:  The Indigo Girls have thirteen studio albums, but I only have six of them.  Of the six, “Shaming of the Sun” is not my favourite.  I’ll put it 5^th.

Rating:  3 stars

This album is a reminder that long after an artist falls from the larger public consciousness they can still keep making quality music.  Of course the Indigo Girls were never really in the larger public consciousness; another example of why being popular is largely overrated.

“Shaming of the Sun” is tastefully restrained at twelve tracks and only fifty minutes of music.  A lot of artists in recent years have used the opportunity afforded by the larger storage available on CDs to make bloated records.

“Shaming of the Sun” is not bloated, but it is still uneven and not at the same level as the Girls’ first four records.  I found some of the tracks dragged, and had me glancing at the MP3 player to see if it was going to be over soon.  “Caramia,” “Don’t Give That Girl a Gun” and “Everything In Its Own Time” all had this effect on me, and none of them is a particularly long song.   It is almost like in their experimenting to find more unique melodies and production additions the album sometimes loses sight of making sure the music is listenable.

However, when you have the wherewithal to stick to twelve tracks, a few forgettable ones are much easier to bear – see how that works?  It also helps that the album has a lot of very strong songs.

“Get Out the Map” and “It’s Alright” are bright spots, and both are Indigo Girls standards.  These are songs that dole out lessons in a lighthearted non-judgmental way even as they remind you that everything isn’t going to be perfect in life.  We’re all going to lose friends, and we’re all going to encounter prejudice, or have it hurt someone close to us.  Just take a deep breath, relax, and take it as it comes.  These are songs that are about attitude, and how that attitude can sometimes give you all the direction you need.  As they sing in “Get Out the Map”:

“Get out the map, get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down

We’ll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town.

Don’t drink the water, there seems to be something ailing everyone

I’m gonna clear my head, I’m gonna drink that sun

I’m gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young.”

Sounds like a reasonable set of directions to me – and a helpful public service announcement about the water to boot!  Fortunately, I’m a man who isn’t afraid to ask for direction once in a while.  We do exist.

The album also has some interesting musical experiments.  “Shed Your Skin” begins with a turntable scratch that had me thinking of Public Enemy.  It shouldn’t have worked, but strangely it did.

The album wraps up on a high note, with “Hey Kind Friend,” a song about being physically separated from the people we care about, but how they still positively influence us and give us comfort just by memory.  It features some gorgeous guitar picking and a relaxed feel that at 5:46 in length, actually left me wanting more, not less.  Also, the song features my home town of Victoria!

“Hey kind friend don’t know when I’ll see you again

On a ferry boat bound for Victoria laying down to hide from the wind.”

Welcome to Victoria, Emily and Amy!  Sorry to hear you’re missing your friend, but our town is lovely and clean with lots to do given our humble size.  I recommend you check out the Bug Zoo, but skip Miniature World – even I build better dioramas than that.

Anyway, this is a good but not great record.  The musicianship is strong, and the girls still sing beautifully.  There are a number of good tracks and one or two that make you self-examine in a healthy way.  If they sound preachy in places or drone a bit, it doesn’t happen too often.  Besides, after all the great music they’ve given me, I think they’ve earned the right to try a few new musical tricks, and maybe even give me a piece of their mind.

Best tracks:  Get Out the Map, Shed Your skin, It’s All Right, Scooter Boys, Hey Kind Friend.

CD Odyssey Disc 488: Spooky Tooth

Home from a long day of work and a good guitar lesson, and ready to review this next album no matter how spooky things might get.  Get it?  Get it?  Man, I crack myself up.

Disc 488 is… Best of Spooky Tooth

Artist: Spooky Tooth

Year of Release: 1975, but with music from 1968-1973

What’s up with the Cover?  A lot of Spooky Tooth album covers were pretty wild, but this best of compilation just has half a tiger’s head.  I’m not sure it makes the tiger’s teeth seem ‘spooky’ but I like it.  This cover also reminds me I need to find myself a copy of Tygers of Pan Tang’s “Wild Cat.”

How I Came To Know It:  My friend Spence made me a compilation album he titled “Rare Evil” with some old school rock and roll by lesser known seventies bands.  Spooky Tooth’s “Evil Woman” was on there, and I liked it, so I sought them out.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have this one Spooky Tooth album, but even if that weren’t true, ‘best of’ albums are compilation, and so don’t stack up.

Rating:  no ratings assigned to “best of” albums or compilations, monkey!

Imagine if you could cross Black Sabbath with hippies.  I’m not saying you should do that, I’m just saying imagine that you could.  The result would be a lot like Spooky Tooth.

Spooky Tooth is a late sixties/early seventies band that were pretty much contemporaries with the Carpenters (reviewed only two albums ago, at Disc 486).  However they weren’t terribly interested in making pop singles or if they were, they went about it in a funny way.  Instead, they infused flower power sensibilities into what would otherwise be hard rock.  I think I’ll call it Flower Pot Rock, for lack of a better expression.

The results are uneven, but worth a listen.  Sometimes they sound like Led Zeppelin, like on their remake of the early sixties folk song, “Tobacco Road” or on the song that introduced me to them, “Evil Woman.”  Both are inspired mixes of blues and rock, particularly “Evil Woman” (which should not be confused with the Black Sabbath song of the same name).  Lead singer Mike Harrison really shows off his vocal chops on this song, going from a rock growl to a ridiculously powerful falsetto.  The effect is to effectively capture the mix of the singer’s conflicting opinion of the song’s subject.  On the surface, he is angrily rejecting her charms, but there’s a clear magnetism for her underneath that rejection that is undeniably unhealthy.  “Evil Woman” is nine minutes long, but never seems to drag, and when it ends in a bit of confusing noodling it seems wholly appropriate.

The album also features the original version of “Better By You, Better Than Me” which is written by organ player Gary Wright (who would later go on to write the much more famous “Dream Weaver” as a solo artist).  I like this version, but “Better By You, Better Than Me” is also later covered by Judas Priest on their “Stained Class” album (reviewed back at  Disc 195).  Priest improved the song a fair bit, infusing it with an energy that Spooky Tooth can’t deliver.

It is worth noting that this is supposedly Spooky Tooth’s “best of” compilation, yet of the thirteen tracks, at least three are remakes.  Unlike Judas Priest, their remakes don’t make the song better either.  Their version of The Band’s “The Weight” sounds like a thin carbon copy and their attempt at the Beatles' “I Am the Walrus” takes an interesting and complicated song and makes it plodding and dull.

When they do their own thing, it is generally better, such as on the anthemic guitar-rock track “Waitin’ For the Wind” which with its organs and wall of sound, is ten years ahead of its time. Harrison’s vocals ground the track in the seventies, as do the southern-rock unison singing for the chorus, and along with “Evil Woman” this is Spooky Tooth at their best.

When they try to soften their sound it comes off a bit too flower power for my tastes.  Songs like “Self Seeking Man” are supposed to be deep, but just sound indulgent, even for a time when indulgence was generally applauded.  Spooky Tooth is better when they just rock out and trust to their tight playing and powerful vocalist to see them through.  That said, great vocals and tight playing can only take you so far when you don’t know where you’re going.

Best tracks:  Tobacco Road, Better By You, Better Than Me, Waitin’ For The Wind, Evil Woman.

CD Odyssey Disc 487: Dropkick Murphys

Sheila and I spent a quiet weekend together doing one of our favourite down-time things – playing board games.  A big part of the experience is picking music.  I’ve still got an old five disc player, and to get started we each put two CDs in and set it to random.  This gives an interesting mix of music, but within a limited number of records.  If we run out of music before we run out of game, we each pick another record (only one this time, because it is usually getting late) and start over.

Over the course of the last weekend, here’s what ended up in the player, and who picked it:

• Billy Bragg – “Don’t Try This At Home” (Logan)
• The Shins – “Chutes Too Narrow” (Sheila)
• Black Mountain – “Wilderness Heart” (Logan)
• R.E.M. – “Automatic for the People” (Sheila)
• Tom Petty – “Hard Promises” (Logan)
• Lucinda Williams – “Self Titled” (Sheila)
• The Pogues – “Peace and Love” (Logan)
• Amy Winehouse – “Frank” (Sheila)
• Corb Lund – “Losin’ Lately Gambler” (Logan)
• God Help the Girl – “God Help the Girl” (Sheila)

Yeah – we played a lot of games over the weekend – mostly Arkham Horror and Dominion (both are great – look them up).  And now on to the game I like to call the CD Odyssey.

Disc 487 is… The Warrior’s Code

Artist: The Dropkick Murphys

Year of Release: 2005

What’s up with the Cover?  The second boxing match of the CD Odyssey (the first was on Aimee Mann’s “The Forgotten Arm” way back at Disc 66 before the “What’s up with the Cover?” feature existed).  Interestingly, both albums were released in 2005.

I know very little about boxing, but as you can partly make out from the fight card in the background it is a scene from a May 18, 2002 bout between Mickey Ward and Arturo Gatti (which was later immortalized by Mark Wahlberg in the film, “The Fighter” in 2010).

Of course the Dropkick Murphys – who are lovers of all things Massachusetts – would have known about this fight, since Ward was a famous boxer from Lowell, Massachusetts.  Ward won the fight on decision in nine rounds, or so I am advised by the infallible Wikipedia – so take that for what it’s worth.

How I Came To Know It:  I’ve been a fan of the Dropkick Murphys since my friend Andrew introduced me to them back around 2001 when they released “Sing Loud, Sing Proud,” but I’ll talk about that album when I roll it.  By 2005 I was hooked on their sound, and so I bought “The Warrior’s Code” when it came out.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Dropkick Murphys albums (I haven’t bought their last two – yet).  Of the six, I’d put “the Warrior’s Code” at fourth, just behind “The Gang’s All Here”.

Rating:  3 stars

A few years back I took a trip to Boston with my friends Byng and Craig where I took in some sports tourism (Craig and I are both huge Bruins fans).  It was a great time, but the rest of Boston didn’t inspire me too much – as a Canadian I’m more used to being the ‘good son’ of England, and Boston’s sightseeing is all about being the rebellious son.

On the plus side this rebelliousness breeds some fine music in Beantown, chiefly the Dropkick Murphys who are only moderately known outside of their hometown, but are definitely favourite sons within it.  The Boston Bruin’s rink is filled with Murphys songs in the same way that you’ll hear Captain Tractor at Edmonton Oiler games (trust me, you will).

The album’s title track honours the aforementioned Massachusetts boxer Micky Ward, and the bonus track “Tessie” is about a famous Boston Red Sox incident, showing the Murphys love all Boston sports legends, not just hockey. As a Miami Dolphins fan, I was just glad I haven’t heard them laud the Patriots yet.  Yech.

Back to the music, which is a mix of Celtic folk music, punk rock and a healthy dose of blue collar worker politics.  Every album they make is infused with huge doses of enthusiasm that encourages you to raise your fist and sing along.

“The Warrior’s Code” is a bit more polished than their earlier albums in terms of production, which I know can offend some punk sensibilities, but as I’ve said in previous reviews, there is no reason why punk music should have to abandon good production values.

The Murphys don’t lose any of their visceral energy as a result.  They know how to blend traditional instruments like the bagpipes with electric guitar, bass and drums.  Along the way they work in violin, mandolin, cello and piano where those make sense, and leave them out where they don’t.  At no point – even at its loudest and most frenetic – is it ever played loosely; another thing that will make punk purists wince, but that I’m thankful for.

As you would expect from a punk/folk crossover band song topics range around a fair bit.  On the punk side, songs like “Citizen C.I.A.,” which is a satirical recruitment song for the U.S.’s intelligence agency.  I doubt it is a favourite at the agency.

On the other side they play traditional songs, including the classic World War One anti-war song “The Green Fields of France.”  This is a beautiful song, and for all their anti-establishment vibe the Murphys give it the respect it deserves, keeping it understated with just piano and a fine vocal performance from lead singer Al Barr.  Prior to getting this album I had only a technically sound, but very generic version by John McDermott so it was great to hear this song sung the way it should be – with a hurtful edge.  I’d have slowed the tempo down just a hair, but it’s a minor quibble.

By contrast, their remake of the Pogues’ “The Auld Triangle” is gorgeously punkified.  It starts out like “Green Fields…” with a mournful piano and penny whistle but it doesn’t take long for an electric guitar assault to jump in, as the song is sped up to two or three times the tempo.  Overall I prefer the Pogues’ version, but the Dropkick Murphys do a fine reimagining, and by speeding it up tyey turn it from a mournful tune to one of rage and defiance (they do rage and defiance well, these boys).

The final song (notwithstanding bonus tracks) is “Last Letter Home” and brings all of the Murphys’ influences together in one place.  Vibrant bagpipe riffs (‘riffs’ is the only way I can think to describe them), join furious guitar playing, heavy bass drum and Barr singing in full throat.  The song is about a soldier away from his family who meets a tragic end serving in Iraq.  The chorus is sung in unison, and goes simply:

“If I lead will you follow?

Will you follow if I lead?”

The song ends with the bagpipes, left on their own, slowing their fury to a mournful drop that takes all that energy and tumbles it off a cliff into silence. 

Clever readers will note that I’ve said very little bad about this album, given that I’m only awarding it three stars.  That’s true – you’re very clever.  That’s because there isn’t a lot on this record that bothers me.  I find “Citizen C.I.A.” a little heavy handed, and the requisite drinking/carousing song “Wicked Sensitive Crew” isn’t as strong as their offering on other albums, but they aren’t terrible songs.

By the same measure, there aren’t a lot of amazing standouts.  This is a solid album by a band who knows their sound and how to make it great, and always give 100%.  It may only add up to three stars for me, but it is a satisfying three stars withal.

Best tracks:  The Warrior’s Code, The Green Fields of France, Take It and Run, The Auld Triangle, Last Letter Home.

CD Odyssey Disc 486: The Carpenters

Happy Valentine’s Day!  I think this might be one of the only Valentine’s Days in fifteen years that Sheila and I didn’t go out for dinner.  We just didn’t want to cram ourselves into a restaurant that only allows you two hours before they kick you out for the next couple’s magic moment.

Besides, every day with Sheila is a magic moment - and I’m just lucky to be in her company.  So instead we’re going to enjoy each other’s company at home; having dinner and sharing a bottle of wine, because we’re feelin’ relaxed, free and easy – kind of like this next album.

But I did bring home flowers and chocolate.  I’m not a complete idiot.

Disc 486 is… The Singles 1969-1973

Artist: The Carpenters

Year of Release: 1973, with songs from 1969-1973

What’s up with the Cover?  Not much.  The classic Carpenters logo has aged nicely, though, and I don’t think a modern graphic designer could do much to improve on it.

If it looks a bit weathered, it is because this photo is of Sheila’s vinyl copy, which she’s owned since she was a kid.  Although only a single LP, it was one of those collectable ones with a special booklet about the Carpenters and a double-wide case that opens up to give us this this awesome photo of the Carpenters:

Wow.  And to think that is all that the double-wide record case provides – this giant photo of Karen and Richard Carpenter.  Richard could probably walk down the streets today in those clothes, but time has not been so kind to Karen’s fashion decisions.

How I Came To Know It:  Like most people my age, I remember the Carpenters from being a kid and listening to AM radio in the car.  However, the reason that they are in my house as an adult is entirely Sheila’s doing – the record was a big deal for her in her childhood, to the point she subsequently bought it on CD as well.  I say if you’ve got a sentimental favourite, why not celebrate it.

How It Stacks Up:  This is a “best of” so even if it weren’t our only Carpenters album (which it is) it couldn’t stack up anyway.

Rating:  Best of albums don’t get rated.  Such is the established way of the Odyssey.

Those who read this blog to any degree likely recognize that while I have pretty wide musical tastes, bubble-gum AM radio pop isn’t typically one of them.  But despite my sincerest wishes to say bad things about the Carpenters, the truth is that this is some damn catchy AM radio pop music.  Anyone who says otherwise just hasn’t listened to it.

That isn’t to say I loved the experience, but it did have its appeal.  That appeal begins with Karen Carpenter’s voice.  I’m told that she’s a contralto, which in music-speak means she sings very low.  She also sings flawlessly, with a sweet, full tone that is about as pure as you’ll hear in music, yesterday or today.  It is a damned shame that anorexia stole her away so soon; it would have been interesting to listen to that voice age and change.  I expect it would have never lost its grace.

The melodies are pure Soulless Record Executive action, with a toe-tapping quality that would make them #1 hits if they were released today.  I don’t really care for #1 hits when I can avoid it, but damn – some of these are catchy, and the simple early seventies production is a perfect fit.

A classic example is “Top of the World” which I was sad to discover was not a version of the Patty Griffin song.  Griffin’s song is a mournful tune of regret with an ironic title.  No irony, here.  Singing along to a country style twang (turned into pop by an accompanying organ), Karen gustily belts out:

“Such a feelin’s comin’ over me

There is a wonder in most everything I see

Not a cloud in the sky

Got the sun in my eyes

And I won’t be surprised if it’s a dream.”

And no, it isn’t sung in some mournful minor key, and no the sun in Karen’s eyes doesn’t drive her to murder a la Camus’ “The Stranger.”  When Karen Carpenter sings about being on top of the world, that’s all there is to it.  Strangely, this damned simple notion works its magic on you, and by the time she’s singing the chorus it takes all you can do not to sing along that you are also so far on top of the world that you’re “lookin’ down on creation.” (It is worth noting here that the vibe is so relaxed, droppin’ the ‘g’ is a given in all the lyrics).  So yeah, it made me feel good – sue me.

The best song on the album is “Superstar,” a song about that features obsession with a rock star and even (gasp) a minor key or two.  Don’t worry though; the lighthearted dread it is only a temporary condition, quickly cured by a jumpy horn section.

When the Carpenters fail it is usually because they try to stay sad for too long.  “Rainy Days and Mondays” survives this fate simply by virtue of its perfect melodies, and its added wistful quality, but it is the exception that proves the rule.  Other efforts like “Goodbye To Love” or “Hurting Each Other” are just sickly sweet, with overwrought, ridiculous lyrics (“Closer dear are we/Than the simple letters ‘A’ and B’” – Yeesh).  If you want your upbeat seventies pop with a more serious dash of disappointment, I’d recommend Fleetwood Mac instead.

Notably present is a cover of the Beatles song “Ticket to Ride” that I preferred to the original, but not enough to actually enjoy it.  Notably absent was my favourite Carpenters’ song as a youth, “Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft” (I was obsessed with UFOs as a kid, having recently read “Project Blue Book” cover to cover).  “Calling Occupants…” wasn’t released until four years after this greatest hits package.  Bummer.

I think it is both interesting and sad that I just reviewed a Tool album filled with angry lyrics, sung by a very disturbed man, Rev. Maynard James Keenan, who is now happily making critically-acclaimed wine in Arizona, but the open-hearted joy of Karen Carpenter masked a serious illness and early death.  For all the joy she brought the world, she deserved better.

I didn’t love this record, but I also didn’t hate it like I thought I would.  Thematically it isn’t as significant as World Contact Day when millions (thousands?) of people all tried to send our thoughts into space (remember “Calling Occupants…” isn’t on here).  Then again, maybe bringing some happiness into the lives of commuters on their way to work is reason enough sometimes.  It certainly worked for the bell-bottom set in the seventies and dare I say – it even gave me a few unexpected smiles on my walk to work this week.

Best tracks:  Top of the World, Superstar, Rainy Days and Mondays.

CD Odyssey Disc 485: Tool

On Thursday my new random album for review was Tool, but I didn’t finish listening to it before the weekend.

Over the long weekend I mostly steeped myself in alt-country and folk music.  I just discovered an artist in the genre – Neko Case – and I love her stuff and plan to get more.  I also listened to a couple of loners from my buddy Casey (no uploads, though – pay the artist!).  On Monday I even took a tour through reviews in “Penguin Eggs” magazine looking for new artists and discovered quite a few I want to check out in more detail.

Which is to say that I was not terribly ready at an emotional level to return to plumb the depths of prog metal that is Tool.  However that is what the dice gods decreed before the weekend began – and the dice gods will have their due.

Disc 485 is… Aenima

Artist: Tool

Year of Release: 1996

What’s up with the Cover?  Tool loves their screwed up covers.  Previous albums revealed an alien rib cage and a six armed priest, but this time we go even further into the land of H.P. Lovecraft.  This cover is a rudimentary square pulsing with some kind of strange fire and emanating disembodied eyes.  The photo I’ve taken doesn’t do it justice though, because Tool put the picture in a special jewel case with textured horizontal lines, so that when you move the CD back and forth, the strange fire pulses and eyes fly about with the illusion of depth.  I call this cover “The Lack of Colour Out of Space.”

There are alternate images inside, in case you prefer skinless leg grafts, naked contortionist floor shows, or flying babies with back-spikes.  How I wish I were making any of that up.

How I Came To Know It:  I have been a fan of Tool since my old room-mate Greg first introduced me to them in the early nineties.  I bought “Aenima” much later as I was drilling through their collection, and probably have only had it for about ten or twelve years or so.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Tool albums.  I also briefly had a “Perfect Circle” album but it didn’t grab me, and I sold it before I ever rolled it for review.  Of the five Tool albums, I must risk the rage of Tool fanatics everywhere and put “Aenima” fifth.

Rating:  3 stars

My two favourite Tool albums are 1993’s “Undertow” and 2001’s “Lateralus,” so it is strange to find the album in between not appealing to me nearly as strongly.

Which is not to say “Aenima” is a bad album – it is actually a very good album – and it marks Tools natural movement from the more grunge-rock style of “Undertow” toward the more progressive and complex sound of “Lateralus.”

Once again the drums of Danny Carey are in full glory, and on Aenima there are even other elements of percussion worked in that aren’t drums per se, but still nail down the rhythm of the songs.  This was particularly noticeable at the beginning of “Eulogy,” which just sounds like two hollow sticks being banged together at first, but slowly builds into a complex, ultra-heavy rock song that is worth the wait.

Tool isn’t about guitar solos, so much as they are about riffs and creative drum beats mixed together.  These form songs that generate simple visceral energy but provide a deep level of complexity if you take the time to let your ear wander through them.  If you’re not in the mood to be challenged that’s OK too, it also works to just bob your head and rock out.

I will sometimes complain about longer songs on the Odyssey, but Tool is a band that knows how to properly use a longer song to fully develop a musical idea, and then transport you there until you lose yourself in the labyrinths of their construction.  “Aenima” shows the beginning of the sound the band would perfect on “Lateralus, and helps you appreciate it by seeing it in its nascent form.

The album’s lyrics are as angry as ever.  The anger runs the gamut, whether it is the quiet piano of “Message to Harry Manback” wishing cancer on its listeners, or the loud and rebellious “Hooker with a Penis” which is a rebuke to early fans that insist that Tool sold out to get famous.  Rev. Maynard sings “Hooker with a Penis” with a clear and present rage at the hypocrisy of judgmental fans:

“All you know about me is what I've sold you

…

I sold out long before you ever heard my name.

“I sold my soul to make a record

…

And you bought one.”

The ellipses are replacing some colourful insults to underscore Maynard’s point; namely that if the band is a sell-out at least they are aware of their own decisions, while the listener knows nothing more than what they’re told – a mythology created by the very artist they seek to judge.  It is a lesson that ‘early album only’ snobs and music critics alike should take to heart.

“Aenima” then takes the band’s anger to a whole new level, as they practically call for a massive natural disaster to sink Los Angeles into the ocean.  For all the many songs through history that praised the city of their roots, “Aenima”provides a disturbing counterbalance, as the song snarls away for six and half minutes.

Songs like “Aenima” provide the band time to explore their rhythmic progressions and really work up a good smelly, angry sweat.  The one notable exception to this on this album being the almost fourteen minute “Third Eye” which is just too all over the place to hit the mark.  Here it isn’t the length so much as the excess content.

If anything, it is the shorter songs that let me down, seeming to be just mood pieces of between half a minute and two and a half minutes to separate the larger set pieces.  I personally think the album would hold together better without this filler.

Also, even if individual tracks stretch their length out comfortably, at fifteen tracks and over seventy-seven minutes of music, “Aenima” loses the comfort overall.

Of course, Tool is not about comfort – if anything the songs are designed to knock you out of your comfort zone.  “Aenima” does a fine job of doing this, and as always the musicianship is exceptional.  Still, despite the strong high points, I always find myself preferring the visceral rock experience of “Undertow” and the song construction and groove of “Lateralus,” leaving “Aenima” caught in the middle.

This experience – admittedly a very personal one given the overall quality of the music – keeps it just a hair shy of true excellence, even as it proves that there is no bad Tool album to be had.

Best tracks:  Eulogy, Forty Six & 2, Hooker with a Penis, Pushit, Aenima.

CD Odyssey Disc 484: Townes Van Zandt

It was cool to find out today that I inspired another guitar virtuoso early in his career with a song called “The Vigil”, by Blue Oyster Cult.  Of course all I did was hand over a recording of the song; guitarist Buck Dharma did the rest of the inspirational part, and the student at the time (Vaughn) put in the time and talent to master the instrument.  Still, it felt cool to play even a small role in the formative process of a now accomplished guitar player, especially since I’m at the formative end of the process myself.

In fact, I’m just back from my first ever guitar lesson.  Despite still seriously sucking at the guitar, it was a damned good time.  A big shout-out to my teacher, Josh, who is both patient and talented and I fear is going to get me deeply addicted to bluegrass.  Also, he is one hell of a gifted singer.  I’m looking forward to absorbing as much knowledge from him as I can - likely more so the guitar than the singing, I expect.

Josh ended the lesson by giving me a few songs to try to learn, and hearing about my abiding love for Townes Van Zandt, he happily tossed out the usual Beatles song approach for “If You Needed Me.”  Which, given this next review, brings us full circle again.  Life can be a crazy wheel, man.

Disc 484 is… Live at McCabe’s

Artist: Townes Van Zandt

Year of Release: 1995

What’s up with the Cover?  I’m not sure if this is a photo of Townes Van Zandt or some random hobo.  I’m going to go with Townes because although disheveled, the clothes look like they are quality.  Whoever it is, they have a nice warm hat for a cold winter day.

How I Came To Know It:  I have most of Townes’ studio albums and another live one as well.  “Live at McCabe’s” was just me picking through his section in the music store for something new and seeing this, cheap and available.

How It Stacks Up:  As of today I have eight studio albums by Van Zandt, but I’ve only got two live ones (neither being the classic “Live at the Old Quarter”).  I have this one, and “Live at the Bluebird Café, which he recorded the same year alongside Steve Earle and Guy Clark.  I prefer the Bluebird Café album, which I reviewed back at Disc 231.

Rating:  2 stars

Listening to “Live at McCabe’s” inspired me to go in search of some of the studio tracks I heard on it that I didn’t own yet, but this was only partly because Townes’ brilliant songwriting inspired me.  It was also because I wanted to hear the song played better than it was here.

“Live at McCabe’s” is the best and worst of Townes Van Zandt.  Recorded in a small music store in Santa Monica, California that is famous for its intimate concerts, Van Zandt’s magnetic personality is present in spades.  The banter on the recording (a staple of any good live record) is warm and real, and you can feel that whether Van Zandt is introducing a song, telling a joke or just struggling with trying to locate dobro player Kelly Joe Phelps so he can get him up on stage, he has the audience in the palm of his hand.

That said, banter is a very delicate balance on a live album.  You definitely want a little, but a little goes a long way.  “Live at McCabe’s” has too much of this stuff, and Van Zandt’s self-deprecation may be heartfelt, but it also comes in places where he interrupts his own song to mention it.  This is particularly true at the beginning of the record, whereas on the back half he settles down and plays a bit more, and talks a bit less, which is a big improvement.

Also the dialogue tracks are not separated from the songs, which I don’t like.  Funny as it is, I want to be able to skip the “drunk and his lost car” joke after I’ve heard it a half-dozen times.

On to the music which is played fairly sloppy, despite the very resonant and vibrant acoustics present in McCabe’s.  Townes may be intentionally dirtying it up a bit, but I think it needs a bit more polish so the songs can shine through.  I must have half a dozen versions of “Pancho and Lefty” – at least three of them by Townes – and this is the worst of the bunch.  That said, “Pancho and Lefty” is still an amazing song, such that even the weakest version in my collection is still a joy to listen to.

I had no other versions of Townes singing “Snowin’ On Raton” or “Banks of the Ohio” however, and both were beautiful.  They come at the end of the album, where Townes has settled down into his own musical spell and gets caught up in the emotion.  At this stage of his career, Townes is less than two years from his own untimely death and the weight of the world is heavy in his voice.  On “Snowin’ On Raton,” you can almost hear him hunched over the mike when he sings:

“Bid the years good-bye you cannot still them

You cannot turn the circles of the sun

You cannot count the miles until you feel them

And you cannot hold a lover that is gone.”

Townes has felt a lot of miles at this stage, and if his guitar and voice both sound a little worn out, you can’t blame him.  All you can do is sit with a mixture of pity, envy and awe as he awkwardly works up the courage through the course of the concert to honestly tell you about it through music.

The two tracks featuring Kelly Joe Phelps are both nearer the end of the record.  His dobro gives a nice light tone on top of the heavy strumming of Van Zandt’s guitar.  On “Banks of the Ohio” it provides a strong balance to the tragedy of the song, and then it holds together “Walbash Cannonball” (a song Van Zandt insist every folk singer learn to play) even as Van Zandt loses focus near the end of the song, and lets the rambling monologue sneak back into his performance.

This album is really only for people who already appreciate Townes’ stronger work, whether studio or live, and can appreciate him for his faults as much as his genius.  However, if you’ve got everything else, and think you can handle hearing him stripped down one more layer, then give this a listen.  It is not a good record on its own, but Townes makes it so with his talent, his songwriting and his good-natured willingness to play host to his own impending tragedy.

Best tracks:  Snowin’ On Raton, Katie Bell, Banks of the Ohio, Marie.

CD Odyssey Disc 483: Budgie

Good morning and welcome to the greatest day in the sports world calendar – Super Bowl Sunday!  Once again my beloved Dolphins will not be playing in the Super Bowl, but it is still a great experience to gather ‘round the big screen with fellow football enthusiasts and watch the big game.

But first, I need to get this review up – the fourth of five albums I have by these guys to be reviewed.

Disc 483 is… Bandolier

Artist: Budgie

Year of Release: 1975

What’s up with the Cover?  Those who’ve read my earlier Budgie reviews will already know Budgie likes to take kick-ass art and make it better by replacing heads (or even head-like objects in the case of “Squawk”) with the heads of budgies.  Of the many kick-ass covers, “Bandolier” is the best, with bandito budgie horsemen hoofing it about on some alien planet.  Yeehaw – viva la songbird revolucion!

How I Came To Know It:  My buddy Spence introduced me to Budgie, and “Bandolier” was just me drilling through their collection.  It is the latest I have in their collection, since I took pity on a fellow collector and let him snatch “If I Were Brittania I’d Waive the Rules” out from under me at the local record shop.  I hope he’s enjoying it.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Budgie albums and I like them all.  I’ll put “Bandolier” fifth, but that doesn’t make it bad.

Rating:  3 stars

Long, riff-packed rock and roll is the Budgie way, and it is a good way to be. “Bandolier” is a bit lighter than Budgie’s previous four studio albums, but what it lacks in overall punch it makes up for with some interesting variety.

The opening track, “Breaking All The House Rules” is not an example of this variety, as it follows all of Budgie’s house rules:  heavy riffs that switch up mid-song, ridiculously long song titles and extended playing time (in this case 7:28) are all here.  This is a good example of why it is OK to stick with what you know, and sets a great tone for the record.

This is followed up with “Slipaway” another Budgie staple; sappy power-folk (if such a thing exists).  Budgie was an early convert to doing heavy music mixed with ballads.  These can be good, but “Slipaway” slipped away one too many steps into drippy reverie, and lost me along the way.

Fortunately, the record recovers itself with the band stretching its artistic limits with “Who Do You Want For Your Love?” a song that mixes that sappy folksy rock, with a guitar riff that would be right at home in a James Brown song it is so funky.  Later when the song begins to rock out, that same guitar riff gets thick and fuzzy, but it is still recognizably and gloriously funky.  In fact, “Who Do You Want For Your Love?” is so refreshing it almost bumped “Bandolier” into four star territory all on its own.

Unfortunately, not every track has the same level of excellence.  In addition to the aforementioned “Slipaway” there is also “Napoleon Bona-Part One and Part Two” which is really just a single song.  In addition to being one of the stupidest song titles in my music collection, the song is a bit all over the place in a bad way.  Usually Budgie will mix in two or three riffs and change-ups that connect well with each other, but in “Napoleon, etc.” they just try to cram too much into a single song.  The band is so tight and talented that it is still a passable track, but I think this one should have been developed into two or three separate songs.

This is another of the Budgie re-masters and commits the same sin as the other ones in including bonus tracks of alternate version of songs that are already on the basic album.  “Bandolier” is not quite as bad as the other records for this.  There are three annoying repeats, all of which are live performances that don’t measure up to the studio original, but this time the band also includes a fourth track that is new.  This is “Honey,” a B-side from the 45 singles release of “I Ain’t No Mountain.”  “Honey” is not a very interesting song, but it is nice to get new content for a change.

Lyrics were never Budgie’s strong suit, and “Bandolier” is also unremarkable on this front.  Most of the songs are just about rockin’ out or some form of romantic expression (either a love ballad or R&B inspired cheatin’ songs).   That suits me well, though.  Artists should be taken in their own context.  You don’t expect ACDC to write poetry like Dylan or Cohen and you shouldn’t expect it from Budgie either; these are bands that are about the music first.

Overall I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed “Bandolier” this time around.  Tony Bourge’s guitar is as good as it has ever been, and he expertly plays rock riffs, bluesy chord progressions and whimsical folk plucking with equal excellence.  Burke Shelley’s Geddy Lee-like vocal stylings are an acquired taste, but as a Rush fan I acquired it a long time ago.

If anything, at six songs the album is a bit too short, even for a seventies offering limited by vinyl.  When two of the songs aren’t strong, you’ve only got four others to hang your hat on.  I listened to this album for an extra day on my walks because I was enjoying it so much, but maybe I was also hoping for a bit more content.

If you are new to Budgie this isn’t where to start, but if you like what you hear on other albums, by all means get “Bandolier” as well before you end your journey.

Best tracks:  Breaking All the House Rules, Who Do You Want For Your Love?, I Ain’t No Mountain