Monday, December 29, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 691: Indigo Girls

This next album caused me to go back to downgrade my previous review. If this album couldn’t hit four stars, then “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” doesn’t belong their either. New Year’s resolution: mark harder!

Disc 691 is…. Nomads Indians Saints
Artist: Indigo Girls

Year of Release: 1990

What’s up with the Cover? An artistic rendering of Emily and Amy, with words written all over their faces, presumably to show they are songwriters. Also a bunch of words that look like they’ve been spray-painted over top of one another to make each one that much more unreadable. Not even street taggers do this, and here you can see why.

This cover looks ridiculous to me although not as ridiculous as the real life Emily and Amy depicted on the inside of the jacket – check this out!
This ‘look’ wasn’t good in 1990, and it hasn’t aged well over the last 25 years.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan of the Indigo Girls since being introduced to them through my friend Susan. This was just me buying their new album when it came out with my then meager income. So yes, I’ve owned this album a long time.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Indigo Girls albums. “Nomads Indians Saints” is pretty good, but not enough to make it on the podium. I rank it fourth.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

I’ve known this album so long (it is one of my first CDs) that is hard to separate its familiarity from how good it is objectively. Fortunately, “objectively” is a concept that has limited value when it comes to art criticism. We like what we like for the reasons we like it, one of which is familiarity. If you think you’re not approaching with these and many other inherent biases, you’re just fooling yourself.

“Nomads Indians Saints” is a minor departure for the Indigo Girls. It is still solidly in the guitar-strumming nineties folk scene, and it is still dominated by Amy Ray’s deep and resonant voice, Emily Salier’s higher, pure tones and some alchemical process that creates deep and beautiful harmonies when the two are combined.

The slight departure is a smoother production, and a bit more instrumentation. Their self-titled album and “Strange Fire” are both sparser sounding records. “Nomads” is still a quality record, but the production decisions take a bit of the edge off, and from time to time I miss that edge.

Regardless of whether you like your folk rough or relaxed, “Nomads, Indians, Saints” does itself a big favour by leading off with its best track, “Hammer and a Nail.” This song was a revelation to the twenty year old me that first heard it. The song’s message is “stop moping, stop overthinking – just get off your ass and get on with your life.” I really needed that advice in 1990, and on any particularly bad day since. “Hammer and a Nail” has a positive energy to it that can’t help but seep into your marrow, particularly if you play it a few times in a row (something I’ve done often).

Despite all this, I consistently mis-hear the lyrics of the first line. It is supposed to be “Clearing webs from the hovel” but I always hear “Clear and west from the Hubble.” In my defence the Hubble was launched the year this album came out, so it was on my mind. Also, equating space exploration with a song about getting back to basics is proof of another line in the song, “I’ve been digging too deep, I always do.” I’ve always heard that line correctly, for all the good it’s done me over the years.

The rest of the album doesn’t hold up to “Hammer and a Nail” but there is still plenty of good stuff to go around. There is an acoustic guitar solo on “Welcome Me” that is understated and perfect, and “Southland in the Springtime” features some of the prettiest vocals the Indigo Girls have done on this or any other record.

I expect my folk records to have some folksy wisdom, and “Nomads Indians Saints” delivers on this front. In addition to “Hammer and a Nail,” “Watershed” is a great “enjoy the journey” song:

“Up on the watershed, standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agony’s your heaviest load.
You’ll never fly as the crow flies, get used to a country mile
When you’re learning to face the path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while.”

This is just the sort of thing old existentialists like me need to hear to recharge our batteries. My other favourite line from this song is:

“Well there’s always retrospect to light a clearer path
Every five years or so I look back on my life
And I have a good laugh.”

I’m sure Sartre would remind me that my past self is only a construct in my mind, but he couldn’t deny that there’s wisdom – and hopefully a little humour – to be gained from a ‘then and now’ comparison with the old you.

There are a couple of places where “Nomads Indians Saints” meanders a little musically, but like a drive down a country road, there is plenty of good scenery along the way so you won’t mind. Also, the musical lessons the Girls were working out on this record would lay the groundwork for the classic folk record that would come next. But I digress – I’ll talk about that album when I roll it.


Best tracks: Hammer and a Nail, Welcome Me, Southland in the Springtime, Watershed, Hand Me Downs

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 690: Red Hot Chili Peppers

One more work day to Christmas eve, but still time to write a review before my walk to work time is temporarily (but pleasantly) interrupted.

Disc 690 is…. Blood Sugar Sex Magik
Artist: Red Hot Chili Peppers

Year of Release: 1991

What’s up with the Cover? The four ‘chilis’converted into an art design. You know what they say – every rose has its tongue.

How I Came To Know It: This album was so big everyone knew it, but I knew it through my friend and former roommate Greg, who was a big Red Hot Chili Pepper fan long before “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” came out. I bought it a few years later, after I missed having Greg’s copy in my music collection.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Red Hot Chili Pepper albums. I really wanted “Freaky Styley” to be number one, I think I have to go with the obvious choice and pick “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” as the best. “Freaky Styley” is still my sentimental favourite, though.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

I’m going to admit up front that I don’t like what happened to the Red Hot Chili Peppers in the years that followed “Blood Sugar Sex Magik.” I think they strayed too far into commercial pop music and got away from the unique sound that made them so interesting to listen to.

While “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” is the beginning of this shift, like a lot of good transition albums it manages to capture just the right amount of the old and the new. There are strong pop sensibilities getting introduced on this record, but it is still buried within that funky pseudo-rap rock that the band maintains its core power.

The pop elements also make this album accessible, so if you are wondering what album you should get your friend who doesn’t have any RHCP, this is the one. Don’t overthink it and try to impress them with “Freaky Styley” or “The Uplift Mofo Party Plan.” Those are great albums, and every RHCP purist should own them, but “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” is the gateway drug to understanding this band.

Of course there is the very pop crooning of “Under the Bridge” and the too-obvious strumming of “Breaking the Girl” – both songs that practically scream ‘please play our shit on the radio!’ But like I said back when I reviewed Blue Oyster Cult’s “Mirrors” there is no inherent sin in wanting your records to sell well.

And while Blue Oyster Cult didn’t deliver with “Mirrors” the RHCP had a massive hit on their hands with a whole bunch of tracks on this record, including the two I just mentioned.

I don’t even really like “Breaking the Girl” – I think it meanders around and never quite develops into the song it wants to be. Not so, “Under the Bridge” which despite massive overplay in the nineties remains a song that inspires me and connects me to humanity writ large every time I hear it. A five star song that despite its perfection isn’t what the RHCP are about. I’m sure a whole bunch of teenage girls bought “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” and were bitterly disappointed to find this out. They shouldn’t have been.

Fortunately, I had been steeped long and deep in the RHCP by my old roommate, and knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew they were going to get funky all over my ass and that the bass riffs were going to move me in the spine from the top of my tailbone all the way up to the hippocampus (where funky music shall ever reside).

Sure “Funky Monks” has a bit of extra production to make it friendlier to the masses, but at its core this is still Flea getting down and groovy on the bass guitar. And when Anthony Kiedis delivers his staccato vocals on “Give It Away” he still spits out his half rap/half rock vocals in a lascivious way that practically screams “I AM ALWAYS SHIRTLESS!” On the title track that follows hard behind it, he lets you know he’s probably not wearing pants either. Every rock front-man should be so lucky to have this kind of wanton charisma.

There is a more powerful rock feel to this record than on their early stuff that I really liked. It digs into their funk and grounds it. “Suck My Kiss” has a guitar riff that is all about the crunch, but never fully leaves the orbit of the crazy rhythms and beats that make this band work in the first place.

When the band reverts to their original style entirely, such as on “Mellowship Slinky in B Major” it doesn’t quite work. I don’t think this is because that style was inferior – quite the contrary – I just think earlier albums did it better.

The biggest problem with this album is that it is too long. At seventeen tracks and over seventy minutes it just goes on too long, and takes away from some of the classic tracks by flooding them with less memorable fare. Ideally, they could lose the album’s last four songs and it would be perfect. I’d be sad to lose “Sir Psycho Sexy” simply because it is a beautiful mess, but at over eight minutes it is a mess that needs to be half the size.

Despite this, “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” is a very strong record. Later, the RHCP would not inspire me, and earlier their records needed just that sliver of musical direction they were lacking. Here they all come together, and if it overstays its welcome a little, there are worse musical crimes out there.


Best tracks: Power of Equality, If You Have to Ask, Funky Monks, Suck My Kiss, The Righteous and the Wicked, Give It Away, Blood Sugar Sex Magik, Under the Bridge, 

Friday, December 19, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 689: Eric B and Rakim

This week I’ve been exploring the music of Bonnie Prince Billy, a sort of indie folk hero that I only learned about recently. Bonnie Prince Billy is prolific, and I was surprised to find he has 18 albums and counting. So far I’ve listened to six of them, and really like three. If this keeps up, there might be nine new albums in my future.

But for now, let us turn our attention away from future purchases, and review an album I already have – albeit very recently.

Disc 689 is…. Don’t Sweat the Technique
Artist: Eric B. & Rakim

Year of Release: 1992

What’s up with the Cover? In the early nineties the white background was king in hip hop. I’m not a fan of the white background, but trying to jazz it up with weird colour treatments and cutouts across the top border only makes it worse. Neither of their outfits have aged well either, particularly Eric B.’s efforts which can best be described as French Existentialist meets Cyborg in a Tracksuit.

How I Came To Know It: By the time I bought this album I was already an avowed Eric B. and Rakim fan so this was just me hungrily drilling through their collection.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Eric B. and Rakim albums. They only made four, but it has been hard to find “Let the Rhythm Hit ‘Em.” Of the three I have, “Don’t Sweat the Technique comes in third, but it is still better than almost every other rap album I own.

Rating: 4 stars but almost 5

The first two tracks on “Don’t Sweat the Technique” make you wonder if maybe Eric B. and Rakim have finally lost their mojo. Then the boys spend the rest of the record proving you wrong.

The opening track, “What’s On Your Mind?” is a smooth-delivered romantic rap that would sound great on an LL Cool J album but just doesn’t suit Rakim’s furious rap style. The whole stylish ‘sexy times’ rap is LL’s territory, and Rakim’s exceptional talent is wasted on this pick-up track.

On the second track, “Teach the Children” the duo has shifted toward a preachy style, again with a very laid back style that despite its strong message about the origins of inner city crime. This song again feels outside Eric B. and Rakim’s comfort zone, not because of the message but because the rap style just isn’t furious enough.

And then, all that ends, and the album gets serious about kicking your ass.

I’ve said it many times that Eric B. and Rakim are the greatest rap act of all time, and I’ll say it again. Even better, they both take the next ten tracks to prove me right.

Pass the Hand Grenade” is a powerful “I rap better than you rap” song where the hand grenade is a mike gripped tight and then thrown aside in disdain, with the knowledge that no sucka MC is going to dare pick it up when Rakim is done with it.

This is Rakim at his best, spitting lyrics hard on and off the beat with a confident ease, and Eric B. backing him with funky samples that make the song danceable and approachable. “Rest Assured” and “The Punisher” are equal masterpieces of the style, rhymes tripping effortlessly from Rakim as Eric B clips and reimagines musical tidbits from classic soul and jazz classics into a brand new art form as funky and original as the sum of their parts. On “Rest Assured” the repeated line is “007 is back, rest assured” which is the perfect expression for a band that features a licenced emcee murderer.

“Don’t Check the Technique” also has a greater social conscience than earlier records. “Casualties of War” is about the experience of a soldier fighting in the Iraq War, the emotional aftermath of the experience. “What’s Going On?” is a brilliant call-out of inner city communities tearing themselves apart with violence and drug abuse. Perfect bass-lines and saxophone samples add depth and complexity to a pretty simple wake up call to communities on the brink.

Like Gang Starr, Eric B. and Rakim aren’t afraid to call out their own and demand better. The big difference is that as much as I love Gang Starr (and I do) other rap acts can’t hold a candle to the skills of these two guys, either in terms of sampling or rapping.

For the most part, Rakim spits his rhymes at high speed, and never misses a beat or a step as he goes. Even when he slows down, like on the soulful laid-back “Relax With Pep” the energy never slips. Listening to “Relax With Pep” I felt like the whole world was moving to my beat as I moved through it with head phones on. I won’t deny there was a swagger in my step; you can’t not have a swagger and listen to this record.

Knowing “Don’t Sweat the Technique” is Eric B. and Rakim’s last album is bitter-sweet for me. They only delivered four records, which is a damned shame given their talent. The silver lining is knowing that their last record proves they went out on top.


Best tracks: Pass the Hand Grenade, Casualties of War, Rest Assured, The Punisher, Relax With Pep, What’s Going On?, Kick Along

Monday, December 15, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 688: Dick Dale

Today is my brother’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Virgil! He was born in 1963 – the same year this next album came out. Considering how few albums I own from 1963 (this is only the second one I’ve ever reviewed) that’s one hell of a cool coincidence.

Disc 688 is…. Checkered Flag
Artist: Dick Dale and his Del-Tones

Year of Release: 1963

What’s up with the Cover? Dick Dale plays the part of race car driver, complete with sexy grease smear on one cheek. It is always interesting to me how records from the fifties and sixties will print the songs on the front cover (seen here) or include claims about how great the music is (sadly not seen here). Albums as pure art would come later, but in 1963 album covers also doubled as advertisements.

How I Came To Know It: I knew about Dick Dale from his surf guitar music, but when I saw this in the store it reminded me of my youth, growing up with songs about drag racing (I had a few on a skateboarding record when I was a kid). I took a chance that Dick’s racing music would be as good as his surfer tunes.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Dick Dale albums and I really like all of them, so it is hard to choose. That said, I’m going to put “Checkered Flag” at the top, bumping “Summer Surf” down to #2. A win for the Ho-Dads I guess (more on that later).

Rating: 5 stars

The California beach scene in the early sixties was full of young people into two very different hobbies – both very risky in their own way. There were the surfers, hitting the waves and hanging ten and there were the greasers, who were into fast cars and street racing. “Checkered Flag” is a record that gives the greasers their due.

Hot-rod music was a real thing in 1963, and I can’t think of a better album that shows it off than this one. Every track is a lesson in how to pack the feeling of howling down the road in an overpowered death machine into a two minute pop song.

Although not as omnipresent as on surfer records like “Surfer’s Choice” or “Summer Surf,” Dick Dale’s signature guitar sound is still on display. This is particularly true on the instrumental tracks, including “Surf Buggy,” “Mag Wheels,” and my favourite “The Wedge.” “The Wedge” is a furiously picked guitar piece that ranges up and down with the speed and skill of a Spanish guitar instrumentalist, but with a rock edge that defines Dale’s guitar sound.

On “Ho-Dad Machine” Dale slows his guitar down into an almost funky groove, but never loses that signature reverb sound. This is a song for cruisin’ the strip along the beach, checking out bikini-clad girls and giving surfers scornful glances. The car-loving ho-dads and the wave-worshipping surfers were known to often be in conflict for rule of the beach, or at least that’s what I read on the interwebs.

In fact, given that Dale is so well known as a surfer musician, it is amazing that he is so good at capturing the experience of the street-racer so effectively. The racing songs on this album make you feel like you’re right in the car with them. The songs have an urgency that makes you want to press the pedal down (thankfully I listened while walking).

They also have a fine touch of humour as Dale gives variations on the racing theme, whether the singer is playing the part of someone of someone getting beaten (“Grudge Run”) or showing up an overconfident opponent (“It Will Grow On You”). The latter song is about a beetle that has been supped-up into a ‘sleeper’ This is a car that looks like nothing special, but is fast as stink. I knew this term before I could even ride a bike, let alone drive a car. I guess that says a lot about the neighbourhood I grew up in.

Dale has a teen idol voice that is underrated, if for no other reason than his hands get all the attention. His singing style really works telling these songs; Dale comes off like a beautiful bad boy that every girl wants to bring home to scare their mothers. His backing band, the Del-Tones, have great doo-wop vocals on the tracks that call for them. The album also features a lot of saxophone (three different players) and they add another layer to the music that makes everything more festive and frantic. This was E-street band sound layering before the E-street band existed.

While this album is decidedly a hot-rod record, Dale never turns his back on surfers. Two of the songs are about beetles (a surfer favourite), and “The Wedge” can refer to an engine or a wave, depending on how you see it. By the time you get to the final track (in a breathless 25 minutes, you’re not sure if “Night Rider” refers to racing in the streets or surfing after dark. Dale helpfully keeps it as an instrumental, so you can have your cake and surf it too.

If the album weren’t perfect enough, there are two bonus tracks on my edition which are great surf songs. “Secret Surfin’ Spot” is a classic track about not giving away where you go surfing, lest the ho-dads and gremmies start filling the place up and crushing your groove. Of course, if the ho-dads did show up, they’d probably be listening to “Checkered Flag” anyway.


For years I’ve wanted to learn to surf, and to own a 1971 Dodge Charger. This album makes me feel like I’m living both dreams. I’m not sure if that qualifies as “changed me somehow” but this record is just too damned good not to give it 5 stars. When something is this thoroughly enjoyable to listen to from beginning to end, you gotta give it a perfect score. 

Best tracks: all tracks

Thursday, December 11, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 687: Johnny Cash

The Odyssey doesn’t stop until I’ve listened to every album in my collection, so despite a busy week I’m making time for reviews. Always make time for music in your life, my friends.

Disc 687 is…. American III: Solitary Man
Artist: Johnny Cash

Year of Release: 2000

What’s up with the Cover?  Looks like Johnny waiting to go on stage. I’ve had lots of occasions over the years to perform on stage, or speak to a large group of people. There is an undeniable nervous energy right before you go out. If you like public speaking (which I do) it can feel very exhilarating, but it definitely has a solitary quality to it as well. All of which makes this a perfect picture for an album called “Solitary Man.”

How I Came To Know It: Like a lot of people I discovered these latter-career gems on American Recordings at “American IV: The Man Comes Around” when Cash did the now famous video for “Hurt.” “American III: Solitary Man” was just me drilling through all the earlier volumes.

How It Stacks Up:  I have one best of Johnny Cash album, plus five studio albums, four of which are the American recordings offerings. While the classic “San Quentin” is the easily best, “Solitary Man” is the best of the American recordings works, putting it second best overall.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

Rick Rubin rejuvenated Cash’s career with these sparsely produced and deeply emotional albums right at the end of his life. They all have a lot of covers, which work or fail to varying degrees. I’m going to try something new and review them in sections based on how well Johnny pulls it off.

Category 1: You tell ‘em, Johnny ! You tell the world!

At his best, when Cash does a cover song it is reborn; a fresh classic that is own forever his as much as it belongs to the original artist. “Solitary Man” has a couple of these gems, “One,” and “I See A Darkness.”

One” is the U2 classic, and as much as I love that version, I love Cash’s rendition more. Stripped down to an anxious guitar strum and Cash’s deep, quavering voice, the song’s theme of reaching out to one another through confusion and doubt really comes through.

I See A Darkness” feels like a song written by Cash, and for Cash. It is the story of one man’s darkness, and his willingness to tell others about it, but only in the dead of night with one too many dead soldiers on the table, and an ashtray of cigarette butts between you. It felt so much like a Johnny Cash song that when I checked out the Bonnie Prince Billy original, I was shocked at its up-tempo bounce. I am definitely going to get myself some Bonnie Prince Billy, but while his original version is great it can’t match the dark truths that Johnny sings into it.

I also love the way Rick Rubin puts emphasis in the production on all the guitar’s root notes, creating a growing sense of dark purpose on every chord change. This is true for both these songs, and many others besides.

Category 2: Johnny gits ‘er done

Even if he doesn’t blow you away, Johnny usually gits ‘er done, and while a lot of his other tracks aren’t the same level as the two I’ve just noted, there is plenty of other good tracks on “Solitary Man.”

In fact the title track is the Neil Diamond classic, and while the vocals on this one aren’t a masterpiece, paired with the thick strumming and punctuated high notes on the guitar, this song really works. I prefer the Chris Isaak cover of this song, but Johnny does it well.

Other beauties are the pastoral David Allan Coe track “Would You Lay With Me (In a Field of Stone)” and a strong version of Nick Cave’s homicidal “The Mercy Seat” (although I prefer the Nick Cave original. Johnny just can’t match Nick’s maniacal combination of glee and fury).

Category 3: Why, Johnnie? Why?

Every one of these American Recordings albums has a song that Johnny should have just left alone, but somehow couldn’t. Johnny has a great ear for a good song, and I think sometimes he hears one and just can’t help himself, despite how poorly suited he is for it. Other records have a lot more of these than “Solitary Man,” but the entry for this record would be Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.”

Despite some very cool guitar work and arrangements, Johnny just sounds a little frail here, like an old guy who’s escaped the retirement home and having been found by the orderlies, is refusing to go back. I don’t love hearing him sing this song, but I still hope to be that same old guy one day.

Category 4: Cash does Cash

There are three Cash originals on this album, showing everyone that Cash still has the creative fire. I found “Country Trash” and “I’m Leaving Now” both a bit hokey, but the retrospective and relaxed “Before My Time” is Cash at his best. His deep voice sounds his love across the ages and reminded me of the Robert Browning poem “Love Among the Ruins.” If you can remind me of that poem, you’re doing something right.

All in all, this is a strong effort and while it is uneven overall, it is worth owning if only to hear him sing “One” and “I See A Darkness” and revel in the magic that Rick Rubin invokes restoring Cash to his former greatness.


Best tracks: One, I See A Darkness, Would You Lay With Me (In a Field of Stone), Before My Time, Mary of the Wild Moor

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 686: Lucinda Williams

My life is incredibly busy these days, but I’m hoping in the next two weeks things will settle out and I can enjoy some well-earned time off.

Or maybe I’m just jonesing knowing I can’t buy any music until after Christmas. Fortunately, I’ve already got a lot. Here’s some more of exactly that!

Disc 686 is…. Little Honey
Artist: Lucinda Williams

Year of Release: 2008

What’s up with the Cover?  One quarter of Lucinda’s face, plus some line drawing of flowers. I really like this cover, and think Lucinda looks great. Then again, it is kind of insulting to say “I think that quarter of your face is beautiful!” Would Lucinda infer that I meant that three quarters of her face didn’t look good, or that I only like this quarter because someone’s drawn a bunch of flowers coming out of her ear? That’s just not true, Lucinda. You know I love ya, darlin’.

How I Came To Know It: I’m a big Lucinda Williams fan so this album was me just buying her new release when it came out. This is what I do when I love someone’s music.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 11 of Lucinda Williams’ studio albums, which I think is all of them. “Little Honey” is not my favourite but it has some great moments – I’ll put it in eighth.

Rating: 3 stars

Lucinda Williams has always had the blues in her soul, but “Little Honey” has more than usual. Following on the the alt-folk style of 2007’s “West” and right before 2011’s quieter and more somber “Blessed,” “Little Honey” feels musically lighter than both of them.

That isn’t to say it is a laugh-fest. Williams is rightly known for her wounded and emotionally raw records. She lyrically goes to very dark places and paints them darker with the beautiful broken twang that makes her voice so instantly recognizable.

Williams finds the hurt early on, with the second track “Circles and X’s”. I don’t love the song’s melody which feels a bit disjointed but there was no denying the gut-punch of the final verse, where she captures a relationship’s end in a single moment:

“You turn around to wave goodbye
You look at me and linger
The morning hears you sigh
And sunlight reflects off the silver on your finger.”

If Wishes Were Horses” has a better tune, as it picks up a broken relationship that she is trying to piece back together. This being Lucinda, there’s more hurt than hope here. Then again, there’s more hope than you might expect from someone who has songs on previous albums about throwing up in the shower and the shame and rejection of not being called back after a weekend fling. Feeling like your wishes aren’t being entirely answered is pretty light fare by comparison.

There is also a lot of uplifting songs on “Little Honey” including the up tempo opener, “Real Love” and the slower, but somehow more uplifting “Tears of Joy” and “Knowing” – all songs having a nice easy quality of someone falling in love.

Musically there is some great blues guitar on this album, particularly on “Tears of Joy,” and “If Wishes Were Horses” so kudos to guitarist Chet Lyster for his awesome work here. I was less enamoured with “Jailhouse Tears” where not even Lyster’s amazing work could save this song from the duet killer that is Elvis Costello. I know Costello is a great musical mind, but on “Jailhouse Tears” he just seems way to smug to pull off the grimy “Fairytale of New York” feel that “Jailhouse Tears” intends.

The real gut-punch on this record goes to “Little Rock Star” a song about wasted talent and the tragedy of losing a great talent to addiction and self-loathing. Given its release time, it can’t help but make me think of Amy Winehouse, as I noted back when I reviewed “Back to Black.” “Little Rock Star” is the tragic bookend to Winehouse’s “Rehab.” With its sparse arrangement, and Lucinda’s pleading vocals, “Little Rock Star” breaks my heart every time I hear it, with lines like:

“Hey Little Rock Star, what don’t you see
This is not all that it’s cracked up to be
And I can’t say I blame you
For throwing the towel in or buying more fame
By cashing your chips in
But with all of your talent, and so much to gain
To toss it away like that would be such a shame.”

The song ends with:

“Will you ever know happiness, Little Rock Star
Or is your death wish stronger than you are
Will you go up in flames like the torches
That are carried for you.”

Sadly, we know how this story ends, but luckily it isn’t how Lucinda’s story ended up, as she’s weathered plenty of storms and come back stronger. “Little Honey” ends with two songs that bring the album’s tragedy and hope together perfectly.

Plan to Marry” is a song that begins listing all kinds of the world’s problems, but ends with a shout out to those who risk love and marriage and look for happiness anyway.

On the rock star front, the album ends with a brilliant rendition of the ACDC classic “It’s a Long Way to the Top.” It is a perfect mix of folk and hard rock, edging to the rock side of the equation, and a good reminder that you don’t have to cash your chips in. You just have to recognize that if you want to rock and roll, it’s a long, hard road. Lucinda has walked it for years, and I’ll be happily buying her records as long as she does.

Best tracks: Real Love, Tears of Joy, Little Rock Star, If Wishes Were Horses, Knowing, Plan to Marry, It’s A Long Way To The Top

Saturday, December 6, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 685: Blue Oyster Cult

I was out a bit later than I intended last night, and while I had a fun time hanging out with my buddy Andrew talking music, I got home late and promptly fell asleep, missing out on an evening with my wife, which sucked.

However, Saturday is here, and while it is a bit rainy, I’m off work, and I just got home from walking around town with my girl, so all is right with the world. We were doing Christmas shopping so I am filled with all kinds of holiday cheer. Yeehaw! I can’t wait to finish her shopping, by which point I’ll be so cheerful I’ll be insufferable (I do insufferably cheerful really well).

Disc 685 is…. Mirrors
Artist: Blue Oyster Cult

Year of Release: 1979

What’s up with the Cover?  This is fairly self-explanatory – a mirror. Inside the mirror we get to see the album title reflected backwards. In 1979 this was what was known as “special effects”. Also, the ubiquitous BOC symbol appears at bottom centre.

Observant viewers will also see some chopped text in the bottom left. That’s because my version of this CD is a “collector’s choice” reissue, which means it has a thick tan border around the original album art with two hideously ugly “Collector’s Choice” logos in the top two corners. I opted for the more traditional look.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve known (and loved) this album since it first came out, when my brother bought it. I was nine.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 11 studio albums of Blue Oyster Cult, which is every album from their 1972 debut through to 1989’s “Imaginos.” “Mirrors” is really good, and in many ways in a statistical tie with “Agents of Fortune” and “Cultosaurus Erectus.” However, since I’ve already given those albums spots 5 and 6, so I’ll put “Mirrors” in at 7th best overall.

Rating: 4 stars

There are some Blue Oyster Cult fans that dismiss “Mirrors” as a mistake; an aberration that somehow dropped itself between classics like “Spectres” and “Cultosaurus Erectus.” Even the Blue Oyster Cult homepage refers to “Mirrors” as a ‘debacle’. I’m here to tell you that all those people are wrong.

The album starts out like you would expect from a Blue Oyster Cult album, with a crunchy guitar groove on “Dr. Music” a song about rocking out, and little else. It would be at home on their earlier efforts if it weren’t for the odd decision to put a chorus girls singing in the background. One of those decisions that likely offended BOC purists, but I’m a BOC purist and I liked it. “Dr. Music” is the only song on the record the band plays in concert anymore, which is disappointing.

The next track gets the band going back to the prog roots, with “The Great Sun Jester,” a sci fi song about a Michael Moorcock novel called “The Fire Clown.” Like the novel, the song is a lot of tragic, with a healthy sprinkling of bat-shit crazy. As I kid I absolutely loved this song and thirty-five years later I love it every bit as much as the first time I heard it.

The Great Sun Jester” is one-half mournful ballad, with Buck Dharma gently plucking a tune that is almost folk-like in its construction, and one half rock anthem about a space traveler grounded at last, and left ‘cold and sane’ after a period of wondrous insanity in the vast dark between worlds.

The album has other very progressive tracks as well, notably “Moon Crazy” (with a rare lead vocal from bassist Joe Bouchard) and “The Vigil” which has some of Dharma’s sweetest, most underappreciated rock guitar, shifting between blues-rock, proto-metal crunch and alien space opera, as the song shifts artfully around without ever getting lost. “The Vigil” also features the important prog element of lyrics that make you wonder what the hell the band is going on about, to wit:

“Well I’m no poet
But I can’t be fooled
The lies don’t count
The whispers do
I hear the whispers on the wind
They say the earth has fallen due”

This is what BOC traditionalists would have been looking for, but “Mirrors” also has a lot of songs that are more light and jangly. These songs are strongly rooted in early rock and roll and doo wop. It isn’t all that surprising, when you consider the band’s age. These guys were all born in the mid to late 1940s, and would have grown up with that music.

“Mirrors” shares vocal duties out a lot more evenly than other albums, with main lead singer Eric Bloom only singing on three tracks, guitarist Buck Dharma getting four, Joe Bouchard getting the one I noted earlier and his brother, drummer Albert even getting in on the act with the very fifties love ballad “You’re Not The One (I Was Looking For)”.

Buck Dharma is particularly drawn to these styles, and sings the absolutely beautiful ‘I’m missing you’ song, “In Thee.” When you hear “In Thee” you get the sense the band was looking for a mainstream crossover hit. To me that’s no crime. The real crime is that “In Thee” peaked at a tepid #74. It is a beautiful little song, with thoughtful lyrics, a great mix of sharp strumming and guitar flourishes, and Dharma’s high and airy voice carrying the day as he muses about bad timing and missed lovers:

“Maybe I’ll see you again, baby
And maybe I won’t
Maybe you bought your ticket gone back to Detroit
Aeroplanes make strangers of us all
Give us distance
Much too easily”

The album’s title track is another should-have-been classic that has stood the test of time, despite an unfortunate bell (not cowbell) in the middle of the production.

The mix of doo wop and prog rock (Prog Wop?) shouldn’t work, but if you open your mind to it, it really holds up. The album is very tight, with only nine songs clocking in at 36 minutes and when it is over it leaves you wanting more (hence me giving it so many repeat listens.

“Mirrors” is missing some of the crunch of other BOC albums, but it has a beauty all its own. I’d love to hear it re-mastered, but sadly the band stopped releasomg re-masters with “Spectres” and has never got to their later records. If they feel a bit embarrassed by the pop flavour on “Mirrors” they shouldn’t be. This is a deeply underrated album.


Best tracks: The Great Sun Jester, In Thee, Mirrors, The Vigil, I Am the Storm, You’re Not the One (I Was Looking For)

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

CD Odyssey Disc 684: Billy Bragg and Wilco

I’m not feeling 100 per cent. I won’t say I’m sick, but I’m light on energy reserves. My plan at this point is to ignore it until it goes away. You’d be surprised how often this works.

Disc 684 is…. Mermaid Avenue
Artist: Billy Bragg and Wilco

Year of Release: 1998

What’s up with the Cover?  I am going to guess this is a picture of Woody Guthrie’s Coney Island home on Mermaid Avenue, since that’s what the album is named after, and would therefore make for a fitting cover. Unless it is one of those ironic hipster moments, where the picture doesn’t mean anything. I just can’t see Billy Bragg and Wilco doing that to Woody, though.

How I Came To Know It: I once again don’t remember. I think someone sent me the song “Way Over Yonder In a Minor Key” and that caused me to fall down the Youtube hole and into the embrace of “Mermaid Avenue.”

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Wilco albums and six Billy Bragg albums, but only two albums featuring both of them; this one and “Mermaid Avenue Vol. II” (reviewed back at Disc 537). Of the two, Volume 1 (this one) is best.

Rating: 4 stars

One day Woody Guthrie’s daughter Nora took a bunch of her father’s unrecorded lyrics to Billy Bragg and Wilco and asked them “can you do something with these?” “Hell, yes!” they presumably replied, and made this record.

Guthrie didn’t write his music down, just the words, so Wilco and Bragg were able to bring their own prodigious talents to the equation. As a result, “Mermaid Avenue” is thrice blessed.

I can’t think of a better fit for this project than Billy Bragg, whose own brand of socially conscious protest rock makes him a natural inheritor of Guthrie’s work. Guthrie’s down-home folksy charm rings through on the songs Bragg takes lead on.

Unsurprisingly, “Mermaid Avenue” has some socialist gems that Bragg gives voice to, including “Christ for President” and the union anthem “I Guess I Planted.” These are good tracks, but Bragg’s got nothing to prove on this front, and I preferred him taking on Guthrie’s whimsical side. Drunken adventures abound on “Walt Whitman’s Niece” and “Ingrid Bergman” has Guthrie reminding latter-day audiences just what a sexual icon she was in the day. The song has Guthrie hoping for a few minutes alone with Ingrid on Mount Stromboli, convinced her beauty would cause the mountain to erupt.

The best of all is the song that got me into this album, “Way Over Yonder In a Minor Key.” This is a song that gives you a glimpse into misadventure in the forties (Guthrie wrote the lyrics in 1946). It also reminds us that even the ugly boy gets the pretty girl if he can sing and write songs – as long as he’s willing to brave her mom’s willow switch later. Bragg’s treatment is the perfect mix of playful and pastoral.

Jeff Tweedy and Wilco bring a whole other dimension to the music. This is early in Wilco’s career, and they are still firmly in their folksy/blue-eyed soul phase. While very unlike Bragg’s approach, it is the perfect counterbalance. Where Bragg’s songs are deep and boisterous, Wilco’s are bright and jangly. Standouts include the laid back “California Stars” and the mournful “At My Window Sad and Lonely.”

Although mostly just doing backup vocals, it was also nice to hear Natalie Merchant get in on the action, taking lead vocals on the strongly traditional “Birds and Ships.”

This record is a fitting legacy for Woody Guthrie and the great folk artists he’s inspired for decades since he wrote these songs. There is no better example on “Mermaid Avenue” than the rolling folk song “The Unwelcome Guest” which is about an outlaw that steals from the rich and gives to the poor. The song is typical fare for Bragg and Guthrie, which puts message above character in the end by converting the song’s title character into a movement:

“Yes, they’ll catch me napping one day and they’ll kill me
And then I’ll be gone but that won’t be my end
For my guns and my saddle will always be filled
By unwelcome travelers and other brave men.”

The song is the last on the record, which lets it linger in your ears and echo through the ages. It shows that both Bragg and Wilco understand that they are standing on the shoulders of a folk music giant, even as they pull him back into the consciousness of a whole new generation.

I saw Bragg in concert very recently, and he was still singing songs off of “Mermaid Avenue” and still talking about the experience of recording it. It was clear that he was deeply touched by the opportunity. “Mermaid Avenue” shows that both he and Wilco made the best of it.


Best tracks: California Stars, Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key, Birds and Ships, At My Window Sad and Lonely, Ingrid Bergman, The Unwelcome Guest