CD Odyssey Disc 765: Nick Cave

My last album was called “Eye in the Sky” and the title track was about an invasive nosey, mind-reading eye in the sky. So it is very fitting that this next album tells you just what you should do when the sky gets too up in your business.

Disc 765 is….Push the Sky Away

Artist: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Year of Release: 2012

What’s up with the Cover? Nick Cave imperiously gestures for a hot naked girl to get out…er…or in. It is hard to tell. This is either a very troubling moment, or a very sexy one.

How I Came To Know It: I’m a Nick Cave fan. He put out a new album, so I bought it.

How It Stacks Up: I recently bought two more Nick Cave albums that I checked out online and liked (“Let Love In” and “The Good Son”). That means I now have ten. I don’t know my two new ones very well, but I’ll assume for now that “Push the Sky Away” is better than one and not as good as the other. I’ll put the new album in at 8 out of 10, bumping “Nocturama” (reviewed back at Disc 370) and one of the aforementioned records behind it.

Ratings: 3 stars

Five years after releasing the up-tempo and frenetic “Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!!” Nick Cave returns with “Push the Sky Away,” an album with a quiet and moody quality that is Cave’s flip side.

“Push the Sky Away” is a slow burner of a record. The songs are languorous and laid back, taking their time slouching along on their way to be born. Cave’s vocal is subdued and devoid of the snarl he sometimes takes on when he’s got his groove on.

The whole record has a soothing flow that makes it feel like you are listening to it underwater, and it is fitting that so many of the songs have water imagery. Mermaids feature on both the song of the same name and more creepily on “Wide Lovely Eyes” where they are hung from the streetlights by their hair.

The setting for the sexually charged “Water’s Edge” is the beach. It serves as both the backdrop to the action and also an image of the edge of discovery as the girls from the capital and the local boys come together in the ancient mystic right of getting it on. Cave takes great delight in crossing the line of the spiritual and the sexual:

“With a bible of tricks they do with their legs

The girls reach for the speech and the speech to be heard

To be hard the local boys teem down the mound

And seize the girls from the Capital

Who shriek at the edge of the water

Shriek to speak, to reach for the speech and the speech to be heard.”

Legs or not, these are mermaids, but not the kind you’ll find in a Disney movie, or keening away at a young Tom Hanks. This is a tale of raw desire, the dark side of any good myth. Like any good myth it dwells at the borderland between reality and fantasy; living on the beach between our conscious and subconscious minds.

This album is full of sexy music for the literary-minded, most of it building slow and inexorable to its lascivious and scandalous climax. Consider the opening to “Mermaids” which feels like what J. Alfred Prufrock would sing about if he were an even dirtier old man than T.S. Eliot dared to make him:

“She was a catch

And we were a match

I was the match

That would fire up her snatch

But there was a catch

I was no match

And I was fired from her crotch

Now I sit and watch

The mermaids sun themselves on the rocks

They are beyond our touch I watch

Them wave at me

They wave and slip

Back into the sea.”

The record lacks some dynamics and the songs are so subtle that minus headphones a lot of what makes “Push the Sky Away” great would be missed. There isn’t anything truly bad on it, even though it isn’t Cave at his best either melodically or lyrically.

When given your careful attention, this record works its wicked magic. It echoes through your head long after it is over, leaving you calm and alert like after meditating and maybe a little excited. I think that is what Nick Cave is going for, and he achieves it admirably.

Best tracks: Wide Lovely Eyes, Water’s Edge, Mermaids, Push the Sky Away

CD Odyssey Disc 764: The Alan Parsons Project

After two straight nights in the gym I’m already feeling the stress of life fade into a manageable shadow in the background. Eat right, exercise and get some sleep and life suddenly becomes a whole lot more wonderful. Also, feed the writing bug. For the second straight night, I’m doing that as well.

Disc 764 is….Eye in the Sky

Artist: The Alan Parsons Project

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? A gold Egyptian eye on a seafoam green background. Sometimes simple works and this is one of those times. Or am I just too afraid of Horus to say anything bad about this cover?

How I Came To Know It: For the second straight review, the title track of the album was a hit and drew me to the album. I didn’t own this in 1982 but I bought the CD about ten years or so ago when I was dabbling in all things Alan Parsons Project.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Alan Parsons Project albums. I had expected this one to be the best of them all, but minus the title track it is pretty weak, so I’m going to bump it down to last. Since this is my last APP review, here is the full list:

1. Tales of Mystery and Imagination: 2 stars (reviewed back at Disc 409)
2. I, Robot: 2 stars (reviewed back at Disc 97)
3. Eye in the Sky: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings: 2 stars

How I wish I didn’t love this album’s title track so much; it would make it so much easier to get rid of this synth-driven, yacht rock, geek fest.

For year’s Alan Parsons Project had been fuelled by their dual loves of pop anthems and geeky literary interests, fusing them into concept albums that are weird and wonderful, even if you don’t put them on all that often.

“Tales of Mystery and Suspense” is a love letter to the works of Edgar Allan Poe, complete with a multi-song epic dedicated to “The Fall of the House of Usher.” “I, Robot” is a geek frenzy dedicated to Isaac Asimov and his laws of robotics. Even “The Turn of a Friendly Card” (which I sold) was an entire album dedicated to a card game. In short, these guys are so uncool they are cool.

Sadly, “Eye in the Sky” has none of the cohesiveness of these earlier albums. There are explorations of communication issues, and a general sense of space that is reinforced by the profligate use of early eighties synth all over the record but it doesn’t go any deeper than that.

Instead you get the layers stripped away and you see these two studio engineers having a fun time composing songs that would make a pretty nifty backdrop to some eighties sci fi film, but is pretty hard to listen to without an accompanying story. If I want a bunch of crazy synth music that is vaguely emotive, I’ll put on a John Carpenter soundtrack, and at least get a cool film at the same time.

The music works for stadium anthems, and our local hockey team uses “Sirius” when they take the ice. Even this has been spoiled for me since the local team is the Victoria Royals, which before they moved were the Chilliwack Bruins. As a Boston Bruins fan I was pretty chuffed at the idea of getting a team that would essentially have the same jersey and colours, and just a different letter on their crest. Instead, the whole team name got changed. When I go to Royals games I wear a Bruins jersey and I cheer “Go Bruins!” when we score. Yes, I am that asshole.

But I digress…

Back to this record, which has the most beautiful title track. “Eye in the Sky” is a classic yacht rock pop song, smooth and energized. This is a song that makes you want to sing along as you drive a convertible down some seaside road. Although the lyrics are creepy (who is this eye in the sky, looking at me and reading my mind?) it always feels so relaxed it doesn’t bother me. The worse thing about this song is that I like it so much I might just keep this damned record as a result.

And let’s be clear, if it weren’t for this song this album would be gone. Not because it is horrible – it isn’t. In fact, the songs are beautifully constructed by some guys who clearly understand how to write and produce a song. If anything they are too good at it – the music is so smooth and inoffensive that it fails to hold my attention. It is probably the greatest elevator music ever made. If you heard it as part of an early eighties movie (if not a space opera, I could see it backing a film about bicycle couriers) then it would be great.

As a straight up album though, it just bores the crap out of me.

Best tracks: Eye in the Sky 

CD Odyssey Disc 763: LL Cool J

I had a crazy weekend with Sheila out of town, getting up to all the silliness I used to get up to as a single guy.

OK, not all the silliness but I did waste a whole evening playing video games and another whole evening out clubbing with friends which is pretty much the alpha and omega of single life. For all the fun I had, the best part was Sunday afternoon when Sheila got home.

Disc 763 is….Phenomenon

Artist: LL Cool J

Year of Release: 1997

What’s up with the Cover? LL Cool J is not on this cover. He has been abducted by aliens, as you can see from the flare of their retreating spacecraft in the night sky. The aliens have abducted one of earth’s pioneer rappers but they have left behind a futuristic font for the betterment of mankind. At least until the nineties end and we realize it wasn’t that great of a font after all.

How I Came To Know It: I only bought this album a few months ago. I’ve been digging through LL Cool J’s back catalogue and this was my latest foray. I picked it because I remember really liking the title track back in the day.

How It Stacks Up: I have three of LL Cool J’s studio albums. Sadly, I must put “Phenomenon” at the bottom of that list. Such is life.

Ratings: 2 stars

LL Cool J is the rap master of the sexy groove, but to have true staying power, an album has to have more than a sexy groove.

For the most part, “Phenomenon” has a great feel as an album, with a lot of backbone-slidin’ beats that are delightfully just on the wrong side of raunchy. Sean “Puffy” Coombs (or whatever he’s called now) helped produce the record and gives it a smooth sound with just a hint of jazz that is generally a good match for LL Cool J’s chill rap style.

The title track has a hook that is irresistible. Listening to it you are certain that you are also “something like a phenomenon”, rather than just another schmuck with a set of headphones bobbing his head while waiting for a light to change.

Unfortunately, most of the album doesn’t live up to this song. There are a lot of guest rappers, but unlike on, say, a Gang Starr album, I found the multitude of voices distracting. Some I found downright boring to listen to, and the songs only picked up when Cool J cut in to rescue them.

Even then the album suffers the fate of a lot of late nineties rap, of having a dearth of samples (thanks for nothing, people who wrecked rap with sampling laws). The samples that are there just feel like empty radio pop in places, and while no one can out sex-rap LL Cool J, the album needs a bit more range.

A lot of the other songs are forgettable, like “Candy” which has saccharine rhymes like “you will always be my Candy/someday we will start a family” sung by the “high voice crooner guy” who is common on all rap albums of this era.

When Cool J goes full raunch it works better, like on “Nobody Can Freak You.” This is a song not just about sex, but rather a single sex act, described by LL Cool J as “No doubt the opposite of 96.” That is as subtle as the song gets. Still, it is delightfully wicked, and unlike a lot of modern rap songs, eminently…mutual.

Ahem

On to the rest of the album, which I found easy to listen to as background music while vacuuming my house a few weeks back, but not terribly inspiring when given a more critical listen.

“Father” is the album’s best effort to get serious; a song about an abusive father, and the son and mother that pay a terrible price to escape from under his clutches. It is a good idea and has strong writing but suffers from a bit too much production. It is a raw topic and I’d love to hear Cool J handle this song ten years earlier, with just a backbeat and a microphone.

The last song on the record is “Don’t Be Late, Don’t Come Too Soon” which is a six and a half minute monstrosity with a string section that feels like something you’d find in your grandparents records (“101 Strings plays classic booty music!”) and an annoying smooth jazz sound that drones on forever. It’s the musical equivalent of tantric sex, with no happy ending.

This isn’t a bad album, and if you just want something to dance to at a party, or something to put on after a party (ahem) then this is definitely baby-making music (note: be ready with the remote to skip “Father” as it is decidedly a mood killer). For my money there is a lot of better rap options out there, including plenty of better LL Cool J albums.

Best tracks: Phenomenon, Nobody Can Freak You

CD Odyssey Disc 762: Guy Clark

Sheila is away this weekend and I have the house to myself for the first time in what must be over a decade. Maybe I’ll eat some food that’s very bad for me, like a bag of Dorito’s, or watch horror movies or even just listen to music that annoys her (Nightwish? Capercaillie? Jethro Tull?).

It should be exhilarating (hey, I’m easily amused) but it is also a weird and empty feeling. I’m determined to enjoy some alone time but damn it, I already miss her.

Disc 762 is….Cold Dog Soup

Artist: Guy Clark

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? Half of my Guy Clark albums have some version of this album, which is basically Guy Clark and his guitar. This cover also features a dog that seems very happy to see Guy. Obviously the dog is not aware of the alarming implications of the album’s title.

How I Came To Know It: As I noted when I reviewed “Somedays the Song Writes You” back at Disc 655 (click to see Guy and his guitar, pose #2), I listened to all of Guy Clark’s albums through his homepage, and liked six of them. “Cold Dog Soup” was one of the four I ordered online. I feel bad about that, but I do give my local record stores plenty of my love, as well as every opportunity to stock something before I look elsewhere.

How It Stacks Up: I have six Guy Clark albums. “Cold Dog Soup” is OK, but it is still in the bottom half. I’ll put it fourth.

Ratings: 3 stars

The title track of “Cold Dog Soup” is about the penurious and sometimes unrewarding life of the writer. Not that Guy is penurious; he’s got so many songs made famous by other country singers that I’m sure his royalty cheques keep food on the table. In terms of direct fame and fortune, Clark is as my coworker recently coined him; a songwriter’s songwriter. If you love the art of the song, you probably know him, and if you just like to hear a pretty voice, you probably don’t.

“Cold Dog Soup” sums up the lonely frustration of a writer by pointing out that deep down they are a loose fellowship. William Butler Yeats, Tom Waits, Townes Van Zandt, Ginsberg, Kerouac and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott all get mentioned. As the chorus bemoans:

“There ain’t no money in poetry

And that’s what sets the poet free

I’ve had all the freedom I can stand.

Cold dog soup and rainbow pie

Is all it takes to get me by

Fool my belly ‘till the day I die

Cold dog soup and rainbow pie.”

Despite such mild complaints, it is clear Clark loves what he does, and also clear that there’s nowhere he’d rather be than picking a guitar and composing a song. He also has a clear appreciation for music history. In the title track he traces his lyrical style all the way back to Yeats.

On “Sis Draper” he shows his love for the Arkansas fiddle, as seen through the eyes of a wise and wild old fiddler from that state. The fiddle on this song seemed eerily familiar and then I realized it was almost exactly the same tune as Michelle Shocked features on the song “Arkansas Traveler.” Together, Clark and Shocked helped me triangulate yet another great fiddle tradition.

Not a great vocalist, Clark sings with conviction and the guitar work on this album are pretty. When he covers Steve Earle’s elegy to Townes Van Zandt, “Fort Worth Blues” he puts heartfelt feeling into the song that more than makes up for his lack of vocal chops.

Sadly, “Cold Dog Soup” is uneven as an album. None of the songs are bad, but there is stretch through the middle of the album of about five or six songs that mosey around rather than go anywhere. Clark is like your affable uncle; for every good story he’s got in him has another one that doesn’t really go anywhere.

“Men Will Be Boys” is a hijinks song about how men are often immature kids at heart, but it isn’t engaging unless the observation is used to explore something deeper, and Clark clearly isn’t interested in doing so.

“Indian Head Penny” is a cleverly written story about its title subject, but it feels like Uncle Guy has pulled a penny out of his pocket and is busy enthralling the kids’ table with a yarn after having one too many Miller Lite’s at the family barbecue. I got off the damn kids table at the earliest age I could manage, and much preferred the tales drunken uncle Guy told at the adult’s table. Then and now, hearing about a shiny old penny doesn’t hold my attention.

Fortunately, the album finishes with a strong trio of songs, the best of which is “Red River.”  This isn’t about the Red River in Manitoba that Canadians will immediately think of, but rather the north of Clark’s home state of Texas. I’ve never seen the river, but Clark’s song about it, and the people who love it, is damned pretty. Ever the true Texan it is no surprise that the song’s chorus is:

“Red River, I know you of old

You have filled up my pockets with quicksand and gold

Susanna oh Susanna when it comes my time

Bury me south of that Red River line.”

One day that’ll sadly happen, but for now I don’t want to lose my adoptive musical uncle. He sometimes makes me sigh and roll my eyes at his corniness, but there’s no denying his power to tell a tale, and set it to a song with a tune you with a prettiness you can’t resist.

Best tracks: Cold Dog Soup, Sis Draper, Red River, Be Gone Forever

CD Odyssey Disc 761: Bruce Springsteen

I’m on the early shift at work and I’ve just risen from a satisfying nap (even more satisfying after I kicked my begging cat out of the bedroom).

Disc 761 is….Tunnel of Love

Artist: Bruce Springsteen

Year of Release: 1987

What’s up with the Cover? Lest you think that only production values sucked in 1987, here’s a cover to remind you that fashion, haircuts and – yes – even fonts were all total crap as well.

How I Came To Know It: When I met Sheila she was raving about how great this album was. She was right.

How It Stacks Up: We have 10 Springsteen albums and would rank “Tunnel of Love” 3^rd on that list although in many ways it is in a three-way tie for second with two other albums. Since I’ve reviewed neither of the other ones, I’ll let their names remain a mystery.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Tunnel of Love” is one of very few albums so good that not even 1987 production values could wreck it.

It isn’t from lack of trying, though. The drums on “Tougher than the Rest” are electronic and dull and the most touching moment on “Walk Like a Man” is inexplicably punctuated with schmaltzy organ solos. The only song that escapes the sabotage unscathed is the title track, and that’s because the carnival feel of the song is well-suited to the empty majesty of a theme park ride. Wait…on a closer listen even “Tunnel of Love” has a weird eighties dance intro that sounds like in a Debbie Gibson song from the same year. Fortunately it only lasts twenty seconds and then Bruce gets down to business.

And that last paragraph is the only bad thing I have to say about this album. The songwriting on this record is as solid as anything Springsteen has recorded, he sings with conviction and power and thematically the album holds together in all its tragic and romantic glory. These songs are too good to fail.

I don’t usually get into behind-the-scenes bumpf when reviewing an album, but it is worth noting that Springsteen recorded “Tunnel of Love” while going through a divorce from his first wife and falling in love with his back-up singer Patti Scialfa. However personally difficult the transition must have been, it gives the whole album an added emotional punch. We listeners can be thankful Bruce had all that pain and conflict to share with us. Don’t feel too bad, either; he and Scialfa are still together 25 years later, so it all worked out for him too.

Back to the album, which has all number of classics my favourite of which is “Tougher than the Rest” – a song I continue to try and fail to play competently on the guitar. In the process of learning it though, I’ve realized a whole new level of how great it is. How, Springsteen drops ominously down to E minor when he sings about how the road is dark, or holds to the home chord of G an extra measure when he tells his girl he’s tougher than the rest. At every step the music and lyrics are in perfect synch as they draw your soul down the long and twisting road of love’s trials.

“Spare Parts” is a boisterous song about a woman learning to survive after being abandoned by her man. At one point she contemplates drowning her love child. Instead, she snaps out of it, goes home and sells the bastard father’s engagement ring and the wedding dress she never wore. It was a relief to hear a song like this not end in someone drowning in a river – folk music is rarely so kind to the lovelorn.

“Cautious Man” is a subdued song about the man facing his own crisis of faith – getting up in the middle of the night and seriously considering driving away from his marriage and never coming back. Instead, he returns to the house and lets love conquer fear. Earlier we learn that he’s tattooed “love” and “fear” on his knuckles, which flies in the face of his characterization as a cautious man. I guess that’s the point.

Both these songs manage to escape the 1987 production values for the most part, with “Spare Parts” rockabilly style feeling like it belongs on “The River” and “Cautious Man’s” quiet acoustic guitar sounding like something off of “Nebraska.”

“Brilliant Disguise” is one of the great break up songs, and “When You’re Alone” captures that desolate space and how the death of love is a one way journey. As Johnny tells his girl when she tries to retrace her steps to his door:

“I knew some day your runnin’ wild would be through

And you’d think back on me and you

And your love would be strong

You’d forget all about the bad and think only of

All the love that we had

And you’d wanna come home

Now it ain’t hard feelings or nothin’ sugar

That ain’t what’s got me singing this song

It’s just nobody knows honey where love goes

But when it goes it’s gone gone.”

Ever tell someone you’ll always be there for them if they want to come back to you? I have. That verse is exactly how it feels when you wake up one day and know it’s not true anymore.

With all this heart-wrenching exploration of love and honour Bruce finally lets us off the hook with the final song on the album, “Valentine’s Day.” This is a sweet and thoughtful love song with nothing more terrible in it than a bad dream, and nothing more complicated than a desire to see your girl. After pulling us through the wringer he ends the record with a reminder that sometimes it all works out, and all those dark roads thrumming ominously to the tune of E minor just make it that much sweeter when it does.

Best tracks: Tougher than the Rest, Spare Parts, Cautious Man, Walk Like a Man, Brilliant Disguise, When You’re Alone

CD Odyssey Disc 760: Ruth Moody

I’m feeling a bit out of shape lately. Not enough time at the gym, plus I’m not getting any younger. Mostly the first one though. The mind will always find excuses to avoid exercise – my latest are the very common “working too many hours” and the more obscure “healing up from tattoos.”

I need to power through the resulting inertia before I sink so deep into my couch I can’t pull myself back out. I am totally going to do that…tomorrow.

Disc 760 is….These Wilder Things

Artist: Ruth Moody

Year of Release: 2013

What’s up with the Cover? This scene looks like it is from some alternate Grimm’s Fairy Tales universe where everything is fantastical, adventurous and slightly creepy. I love it.

How I Came To Know It: I know Ruth Moody originally as one third of the Wailin’ Jennys. This is her second solo album, and since I liked the first one I took a flier on “These Wilder Things.”

How It Stacks Up: Moody has only two solo albums, this one and 2010’s “The Garden.” I’d put “These Wilder Things” second of the two of them.

Ratings: 3 stars

“These Wilder Things” is an album full of quiet beauty. Sometimes it is a bit too quiet, but even at those times Ruth Moody’s artistry shines through.

Ruth Moody has long been my favourite third of the Wailin’ Jennys (apologies to Nicky and Heather). Her voice is high and pure, her banjo playing is sweet and soulful and her songs are often my favourites on Jennys albums. Although entirely irrelevant to her music, I’d be lying if I didn’t also mention that I find her exceedingly easy on the eyes. So Ruth, if you ever want to chill and play some records, let me know. I can’t sing or play for shit, but that’s why I have this great music collection. But I digress…

Like her first solo album, the songs on “These Wilder Things” are straight up folk songs, each with a free and easy roll to them.  The production by David Travers-Smith focuses on Moody’s voice and the purity of the various musicians. He is willing to keep things simple, starting with one or two sounds and adding one or two more as the song progresses, but never overdoing it. More producers need to learn what folk music has known for years – it is about the music and the skill of the players. Relax, sit back, and let those things shine through.

Moody has a talent for writing quietly romantic songs and on this album, and even though some of the romances fail, she makes them sound like they were a whimsical journey all the same. Some, like “One and Only” should fail on the grounds of being overly precious, but Moody always avoids coming off too saccharine.

She then moves into a cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark” which doesn’t have nearly the angst of the original but also doesn’t have all that weird synthesizer. I enjoyed hearing it re-imagined as a folk song.

I was surprised to find places where Moody’s vocals let me down. Nothing terrible, b ut sometimes her breathy voice gets a bit too breathy, or loses some of its emotional resonance. Other times she clips the end of her lines, at the expense of the lyric.

Fortunately, these moments are few and far between and when she nails it, as she does on the title track, she really nails it. “These Wilder Things” feels like a confession, and gives you a glimpse of what it would be like to have a heart so big and bold that you have to sing just to take the pressure off so you don’t explode. From the release:

“And letting go is the hardest party

When holding on has been everything

Well I have this pain deep in my heart

That’s why I sing, that’s why I sing”

To an understanding that the very unruly spirit that makes her feel sadness so deeply, also empowers her to come to terms with it, and create something beautiful:

“And I will waste my heart on fear no more

I will find a secret bell and make it ring

And let the rest be washed up on the shore

They can’t be tamed, these wilder things

No they can’t be tamed, these wilder things.”

Later “Pockets” kindles the same untamed love, although here it is less the lyrical and vocal power of Moody and more her secret weapon; Mark Knopfler playing guitar. Moody helped him out on his 2012 album “Privateering” (reviewed back at Disc 748) so not a bad favour to cash in. Well played, Ruth, well played.

My favourite track is “Life is Long.” It features an understated fiddle and a mournful low whistle (played beautifully by Mike McGoldrick). If you’ve heard Knopfler’s recent solo work the structure of this song will feel very familiar. Moody and Knopfler are influencing one another’s writing and that’s good news for fans of both of them.

While a bit too quiet in places for me, for the most part “These Wilder Things” is graceful, thoughtful and a worthy addition to my folk music collection.

Best tracks: Dancing in the Dark, These Wilder Things, Pockets, One Light Shining, Life Is Long

CD Odyssey Disc 759: Aimee Mann

I meant to write this next review a couple days ago but I’ve just been too busy to find the time.

Disc 759 is….Bachelor No. 2 (or the last remains of the dodo)

Artist: Aimee Mann

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? The dodo, as it would have been depicted by some 17^th century naturalist witnessing its imminent demise. Bachelor No. 2 will always go extinct, of course. Next time answer Jim Lange’s flirty questions with more panache.

How I Came To Know It: I discovered this album in reverse, but first hearing the “Magnolia” soundtrack, which features four songs off of it. This led me to the Aimee Mann original, and so here we are.

How It Stacks Up: I have 7 Aimee Mann albums. “Bachelor No. 2” is pretty awesome. I’ll put it third.

Ratings: 4 stars

There aren’t many albums with the power to inspire someone to make an entire movie based on them, but “Bachelor No. 2” is one of them. Paul Thomas Anderson heard this record by Aimee Mann and approached her about using some of the songs on it (plus some new ones) to be the emotional core of “Magnolia,” his movie about disconnectedness, loneliness and longing.

After a couple lackluster solo efforts (“Whatever” and “I’m With Stupid”) Mann kicked it up about ten notches with “Bachelor No. 2.” The record has beautiful melodies, clever songwriting and has a lot to say about the human condition.

Most pop music is little more than a good hook on the melody and one or two clever turns of phrase. “Bachelor No. 2” shows that pop songs can be so much more. Mann has clever lines and hooks, but you don't notice them as much because they are buried in songs that are brilliant from beginning to end.

Mann’s voice loses the cutesy quality of her earlier albums, replaced with a pure and sweet tone that draws you in with its touches of world-weariness and regret. Her topics are choked with collapsing relationships, and the emotionally broken people who drive that collapse. Mann delivers these tales with an incisive observation of human nature with a clarity that makes you wince.

These are songs where the characters know that hanging on just for the sake of it is a fool’s errand. The metaphor shifts as Mann explores her material. “Red Vines” uses carnival imagery, “Satellite” uses a satellite and “Driving Sideways” goes for a car crash, but the effect is always the same; knowing things are falling apart and not having the energy to even parse out the why of it.

“Ghost World” takes a break from the broken-hearted and gets into the bleakness of existential angst, as seen through the eyes of the recently graduated. The song is likely inspired by the graphic novel of the same name and it is a crime that the 2001 movie adaptation didn’t use it. Maybe like Blue Oyster Cult’s “Vengeance (The Pact)” it does too good a job of telling the whole story in the song. "Ghost World"  reflects disaffection and depression in a way that would make Holden Caulfield proud:

“Finals blew, I barely knew

My graduation speech

And with college out of reach

If I can’t find a job it’s down to Dad

And Myrtle Beach.

“So I’m bailing this town – or

Tearing it down – or

Probably more

Like hanging around,

Hanging around.”

The album shifts effortlessly between an earthy guitar strum feel and a more produced sound with horns and piano, depending on what the song calls for. Mann has a great ear for just what way to take a song, although these songs are so elegantly composed they would likely sound good with either treatment.

 The album often feels like a prequel to her 2005 album, “The Forgotten Arm.” “The Forgotten Arm” is the long and tragic collapse of a relationship that has hung on long past when it should have ended. By contrast, “Bachelor No. 2” is an album willing to put an end to things early, and so create tragedy of a different form.

 “Bachelor No. 2” should be depressing, but these songs are just too pretty to make you sad. I got in a lot of listens over the last few days and it just got better each time.

Best tracks: How Am I Different?, Red Vines, Satellite, Deathly, Ghost World, Driving Sideways, Susan, You Do.

CD Odyssey Disc 758: Sarah McLachlan

I’m feeling worn out, ground down and tired. I’m also feeling stubborn though and stubborn goes a long way with me. In this case, stubborn is giving me enough energy to power through fatigue and melancholy, write my next review and keep this odyssey going.

Sleep is for the dead, my friends.

Disc 758 is….Surfacing

Artist: Sarah McLachlan

Year of Release: 1997

What’s up with the Cover? Sarah sits in a chair, so deep in thought that she’s seemingly unaware that she’s totally using that chair backwards.

How I Came To Know It: This is McLachlan’s fourth studio album, so by the time it came out I was already a fan and just buying her albums as they came out.

How It Stacks Up: I know I just gave “FumblingTowards Ecstasy” the silver medal not 58 albums ago, but I recant! “Surfacing” is the second best Sarah McLachlan album in my collection, just short of “Solace.”

Ratings: 4 stars

Sometimes we begrudge our favourite artists getting famous, because it feels like we’re losing them to the masses. With “Surfacing” we should just feel proud that Canada’s hometown girl, Sarah McLachlan, was being introduced to the world on such good terms.

The album performed brilliantly all around the world, and along with the Lilith Fair tour, helped establish McLachlan as an international celebrity. As for me, I never made it to a single Lilith Fair (or even a Lollapalooza), despite plenty of good intentions on both counts. What I did was play the living crap out of “Surfacing” for years.

The album doesn’t have the raw edge of her previous two records, but that just makes all its deep emotion more surprising. The production is classic late nineties. The drum machines of the eighties had long been rejected, but we hadn’t reached back to the organic seventies just yet. The songs all have an artificial air. The guitar has to be distorted, the notes have to be drawn out and everything has to run into everything else.

All that ambient sound and fuzz could easily pull you out of the experience, but instead it draws you in, like a warm bath or a good book – or both, if you are one of those people who’s willing to risk getting your book wet.

It does occasionally overstep, such as the odd beeps at the beginning of “Sweet Surrender,” but that’s not one of the better songs anyway and besides, these errors are rare. For the most part the production matches beautifully with the songs.

The album opens with “Building a Mystery” which is a character study, or maybe a series of character studies. For me, it is about how we build our characters in the first place, revealing our natures in our own constructs. I love how Hallowe’en makes people behave more like their true selves by giving them the shelter of a costume. “Building a Mystery” reminds me that we do this every day, just with more subtle brush strokes.

When she does strip down the arrangement, McLachlan still sticks with lots of echo, as she does on the quiet and devoted “I Love You” and the more upbeat but regret-filled “Adia.” “Adia” is a beautiful song that shows off McLachlan’s songwriting, singing chops and also a light touch on the piano. My only complaint with “Adia” are the god-awful mule shoes McLachlan wore for the video. Late nineties fashion was not kind to the eye, and the shoes of the era were by far the worst offender.

But I digress…

McLachlan’s voice is so high and ethereal on the whole album that it can feel a bit otherworldly, but not in that creepy Thom Yorke kind of way. Instead, this is the ethereality of angels. McLachlan herself covers a lot of angel-themed ground, including on “Witness” and the appropriately titled “Angel” although in both cases these are songs about yearning for heaven and not reaching it. It’s the human frailty that leaves us burning inside, seeking the cold comfort in unhealthy places in the absence of something more perfect. The distance between that perfection and our idealized grace is where both art and tragedy dwells, and McLachlan nails it.

When I first got this record I played it so much that I overdid it, and as a result I haven’t put it on regularly in years. Hearing it again for the Odyssey reminded me that I will eventually come back to it in force, and moreover that I’ll find some comfort there when I do.

Best tracks: Building a Mystery, Adia, Do What You Have To Do, Witness, Angel

CD Odyssey Discs 756 and 757: Dick Dale

Every time I think I know a lot of music something comes along to remind me I’m just wading in the shallow end of a very deep sea. Earlier this week I met a couple of nice folks from New Zealand who traded me musical recommendations from their home town. So far I’ve checked out Fat Freddie’s Drop, Dave Dobbyn and Fly My Pretties – all pretty good stuff, so thanks to Helen and Morgan!

I gave them some Canadian recommendations as well but it was a few beers in so I’m a bit fuzzy as to exactly what – Blue Rodeo, Tragically Hip and Lindi Ortega for sure, and probably a few more. My friend Andrew added “D.O.A.” the list as well.

It is fitting this next review feature surfer music, since surfing is a truly international activity whether you are in Raglan, NZ or Tofino, CAN.

Disc 756 and 757 are….Surfer’s Choice and Surf Beat

Artist: Dick Dale

Year of Release: Surfer’s Choice: 1962, Surf Beat: singles from 1958-1962

What’s up with the Cover? Bonus two-cover action for this double album set. “Surfer’s Choice” has a classic sixties approach, with the song titles listed on the front of the album, along with exhortative advertising about how great the record is (“With Dick’s Great Hits”). Also, Dick rides a wave and looks sexy doing it.

The other album is “Surf Beat” which still features a sexy Dick Dale, lovingly laying his hands on his board. He looks skyward, no doubt praying “May no gremmies ever ding you, beloved board!” to the surf gods in the sky.

How I Came To Know It: I must have picked this album up a hundred times in the record store before I finally bought it when I couldn’t find any other Dick Dale albums I didn’t already have. Ironically, it is Dale’s first full-length LP but because of that on-cover advertising (“With Dick’s Great Hits”) I thought it was a compilation album. When I finally bought it I got both Dick’s greatest hits and his first studio album, so I was right either way.

How It Stacks Up: All Dick Dale is equally awesome, but I’ll put “Surfer’s Choice” 3^rd out of my 4 studio albums. “Surf Beat” is a compilation, so it doesn’t stack up. I know – back in the late fifties lots of songs were just singles, but just because they did that kind stuff in 1958 doesn’t mean I should condone it. Make albums!

Ratings: Surfer’s Choice gets 4 stars but Surf Beat is a compilation of singles, so no rating for that one.

Disc 756: Surfer’s Choice

Despite “Surfer’s Choice” being one of the most innovative and influential records of the 1960s, it never even cracked the Billboard top 50. What the hell were you thinking, people of the sixties?

It all starts with the way Dale plays the guitar – so distinct we still call the style “surf guitar” when we hear it. Lots of reverb and incredibly fast picking up and down on the strings makes it sound like a hive of bees is serenading you. It captures both the ebullience of a cresting wave and the cool soothing diffusion of sound you might experience if you could play an electric guitar underwater and not electrocute yourself.

Dale’s voice is the classic crooner style of the era, and while he doesn’t have the same range of many of his contemporaries like Frankie Valli he still gets the job done, and he sings with gusto.

When Dale is trying to do the sixties crooner thing, such as on “Peppermint Man,” “Lovey Dovey” or “Night Owl” he doesn’t interest me as much. Fortunately on “Surfer’s Choice these songs seem included as more of an afterthought to please the mainstream listener. Not that it worked.

 The album is at its best when the surf guitar sound is flying, punctuated here and there with a saucy saxophone. Words are not necessary. Listening, you know songs like “Surf Beat,” “Surfing Drums” and “Let’s Go Trippin’” are all about freedom. The freedom of the beach, the freedom of the wave, and the unbridled freedom of a generation that was riding high on life and not yet scarred by Vietnam or stagflation.

“Surfing Drums” manages to throw in a drum solo as well as saxophone letting you know there are lots of ways this music can shout “yeehaw!” Even the slower pace of “Death of a Gremmie” can’t get you down. I guess in a crowded surf spot one less gremmie isn’t the biggest tragedy…

Even when there are words, they are sparse, as on “Take It Off” where the music occasionally breaks every couple of bars so Dick can exhort you to ‘take it off.’ This song is also all about freedom, and hearing it I can see girls in bikinis go-go dancing by firelight up and down the beach. It’s a great image.

Dale takes on the folk classic, “Sloop John B” as well, and although I expect this is controversial, I like it better than the Beach Boys version that came out four years later. Dale’s is a little bit slower, and tinged with just the right amount of regret. Even the odd rat-pack style string section he uses works here. I’m sure the Beach Boys were listening.

The most famous song on the album is “Misirlou Twist” which is just that – a twist on the single “Misirlou” released separately. “Misirlou Twist” is twice as long, but the extra content detracts from the song’s great riff. I must reluctantly side with the single on this one.

The album ends with “Let’s Go Trippin’” which may be the finest example of surf music ever made. The guitar cuts its way up and down the progressions hitting the high notes with bluesy enthusiasm. The saxophone is a clinic on how to use that instrument in pop music that was sadly never learned by the epidemic of crappy eighties music that would follow twenty years later.

“Surfer’s Choice” is just another great Dick Dale album, so consistently good that if you were to only own one, you’d be just fine with this one. Of course, if you only want to own one Dick Dale album you’re an idiot.

Disc 757: Surf Beat

“Surf Beat” isn’t actually an album, but rather a collection of Dale’s early singles from 1958 to 1962. Being earlier in Dick Dale’s career, the album only lands that sweet surfer sound in fits and starts; I expect he’s still learning just what it is all about.

Instead, there is a lot of the crooner stuff that I don’t enjoy as much. It is still good stuff, but if I want this kind of fifties/sixties pop music I prefer Buddy Holly. It just feels like it is trying too hard to please the masses.

The exception to this rule is “We’ll Never Hear the End of It” where Dale steps up his game. This is a sorrowful tune about young foolish lovers and (I suspect) teen pregnancy. Rather than bow down to the admonishment of their elders, this is a song about forging ahead, reveling in the recklessness of young love. By the end Dale makes an honest woman of his girl, and puts a ring on her hand. I love the slow rhythm of the melody, sad and uncertain, even as the lyrics give the song its stiff upper lip.

Dale’s signature guitar sound pokes its head up even on the most by-the-numbers tracks; the shadow of things to come. The songs are presented in chronological order, which I appreciate because you can actually feel the music evolve as you listen to the record.

It isn’t until the latter half of “Surf Beat”s 14 tracks that surf guitar really starts to hit, but when it does, it is as good as anything on Surfer’s Choice. In fact, some of the songs would later appear on that studio debut, among them “Surf Beat,” Let’s Go Trippin’” and “Shake ‘N’ Stomp.” I’ll leave those off my favourites list, though, since I’ve already got them on the LP

The one repeat that is better is the classic surfer song “Misirlou” (rediscovered for the movie “Pulp Fiction” in 1994). Overplayed thought this song has become in recent years, there is no denying how awesome it is.

“Surf Beat” for me is a bit of a disappointment, but it isn’t because it is bad. It’s because I know the greatness of “Surfer’s Choice” and the albums that would follow. I take solace knowing that without these early singles, Dale would never have learned the lessons he needed to be great later. You gotta walk before you surf, man.

Best tracks (Surfer’s Choice): Surf Beat, Sloop John B, Take It Off, Surfing Drums, Shake N’ Stomp, Let’s Go Trippin’

Best tracks (Surf Beat): We’ll Never Hear the End of It, Misirlou

CD Odyssey Disc 755: Wilco

I’ve torn myself away from Wimbledon to bring you this next review. The sacrifices I make for you, dear reader, the sacrifices I make...

Disc 755 is….Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

Artist: Wilco

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? Skyscrapers? There is not enough going on with this cover for me to like or hate it. The background colour would be fine if you were painting your living room, I suppose.

How I Came To Know It: I really liked “A.M” (reviewed way back at Disc 84) and I read that “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” was their best album, so I bought it next.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Wilco albums, not counting Jeff Tweedy’s many other projects. Of those four albums, “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” is third. Sorry, Wilco fans.

Ratings: 3 stars

Highly creative and experimental bands like Wilco can go one of two directions once they have enough money to do what they want. They can explore new sounds while maintaining the pretty compositions that made them great to begin with (think Beck), or they can decide to just do a bunch of weird crap that makes them feel clever (think Radiohead). “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” is a bit of both.

The best example of this is the first song, “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” which could have been a heart-wrenching four minute break up song, but is instead a seven minute monstrosity. The melody once the song gets going is quite pretty, but it is buried in strange droning, and ill-placed chimes that sound like someone’s microwave popcorn went off during the recording session. It is a promising song that descends into a droning puddle of self-absorption. Competing piano chords introduced halfway seem designed to balance off against the harmony of the hook but succeed only in making the whole thing disjointed. This song is the musical equivalent of taking months to sculpt a beautiful statue only to have some drunkard pee on it.

Few other songs on the album manage to be both great and awful in equal measure, although when this album is in full Radiohead form like on the appropriately titled “Radio Cure” it is truly maddening. It is like having some guy at a party idly noodling on his guitar, and refusing to just play a damn song.

In other places, like on “Kamera” or “War on War” the songs are free and easy. They aren’t that exciting on their own, but they have a nice rhythm to them that makes you want to slap your knee and tap your foot, so points for that.

Although it takes a while to warm up, mid-way in the band finds its groove with some fine tracks, the first and best of which is “Jesus, etc.” which captures the new atmospheric production the band has been fumbling for, but without sacrificing the exceptional songwriting. The chorus of this song felt like an apology for the album’s excesses:

“Tall buildings shake

Voices escape singing sad sad songs

Tuned to chords strung down your cheeks

Bitter melodies turning your orbit around.”

I love the oddly placed rhymes and reliance on assonance in this verse that comes alive under front-man Tweedy’s unique phrasing.

“Jesus, etc.” launches a pretty solid run on “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” with the depressing “Ashes of American Flags,” the light-hearted nostalgia of “Heavy Metal Drummer” and the ‘soul music on Quaaludes’ feel of “I’m the Man Who Loves You.” These songs all have little flaws – the first two fade into annoying sound experiments similar to the album’s opening track and the third needs one less hit of Quaaludes, but they form a nice grouping and have quality songwriting holding them up.

Near the end of the album, “Pot Kettle Black” and “Poor Places” feel a lot more like the earlier Wilco sound that I prefer. “Poor Places” has a combination of yearning and intellectual discovery that always makes me think of first-year university. Even the odd bits of disjointed rag time piano in “Poor Places” can’t keep me from liking this song and its too-clever lyrics like:

“There’s bourbon on the breath

Of the singer you love so much

He takes all his words from the books

You don’t read anway.”

Rap artists borrow famous riffs to make hits, and we writers quote other writers to impress girls. I regret nothing.

The final track, “Reservations” certainly gave me some. It is another seven minute monstrosity with a tail on it longer than a snake, and equally hard to love. The album only has 11 songs and 51 minutes of playing time, but because of mood-crap like “Reservations” it still feels too long. If I wanted to listen to this kind of atmospheric blubbering, I’d put on a tape of whale songs to help me sleep.

Based on the strong songwriting foundation of “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” I gave it three stars, but that is the critic in me speaking more than the fan. The good stuff on this album is like a Tiramisu cake, sweet, but excessively layered with a bunch of stuff that is too rich for me to enjoy. I just want to scrape off the delicious icing and leave the rest of it for the waiter to discover under my napkin as I’m putting on my coat.

Best tracks: Jesus etc., I’m the Man Who Loves You, Poor Places

CD Odyssey Disc 754: Outlaw Social

Last night I had the house to myself. I took full advantage, watching the third Shakespeare play in the Hollow Crown series (Henry IV, Part 2) which was all kinds of awesome.

I then had a drink or two and scanned my music collection for inspiration. Henry IV had me feeling maudlin over the responsibilities of adulthood. After ten minutes I gave up, unable to find just the right music for my mood. Feeling restless, I started calling out of town friends. Shakespeare and music area both great, but sometimes you just want company.

Disc 754 is….Dry Bones

Artist: Outlaw Social

Year of Release: 2007

What’s up with the Cover? Bird eats barn. Or is bird throwing up barn? I’m no ornithologist, but I’m going to go out on a limb and claim that barns are not part of a bird’s regular diet.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Casey has a great knack for identifying good opening acts at a concert. We saw Outlaw Social open for the Wailin’ Jennys and Casey ran down and bought their CD.

Because I don’t have Casey’s knack I had to later realize my mistake when he played it for me, and then wait patiently for this album (and their EP) to show up at a local record store so I could have a copy of my own.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Outlaw Social albums, this one and an EP they did the year prior. Of the two, I’ll put “Dry Bones” first.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Dry Bones” is Outlaw Social’s only full length album, and it always makes me feel wistful for what could have been. Sadly, the band went their separate ways shortly after this came out. This is folk music right down to its very (dry) bones, beautifully played and sharply written.

The two female leads, Pharis Patenaude and Catherine Black, aren’t powerhouse vocalists, but they have a nice tone and they make pretty harmonies together and they know how to cast their voices in the best light.

The guitar and banjo on the record are also strong, and had me thinking about how folk music often gets less recognition for its many skillful players. I’m exacting when it comes to fiddle players, and Kendall Carson has never blown me away, but she’s not called on to do too much on the record, and holds things together nicely.

The person that stands out for me on this record is Oliver Swain. Swain is a tall brooding stand-up bass player, all arms and hands. He has a voice a blues musician would kill for; tortured and powerful from its lowest point all the way up into falsetto. “Roll and Go” is a great example of this. It features only a bass, Swain’s voice, and a light dusting of Catherine Black on background vocals, and really shows off what he can do. Swain warbles all around the melody but never loses the path in a way that at times feels not quite human. It’s like a windstorm whistling through craggy mountains, raw and inspiring. Swain also wrote the song, showing he’s not just a pretty voice.

Like any folk album worth its salt, “Dry Bones” is a mixture of original material, traditional songs and a couple covers. The title track is the best of the traditional songs, driven again by Swain’s voice and an inspired arrangement.

The two covers are by Bob Dylan (“Odds and Ends”) and the – shall we say ‘slightly lesser known’ Martha Scanlan (“Raven”). Scanlan pulls the upset though, as “Raven” is one of the prettier songs on the album.

The best song on the album though, is a five star original, “Methadone,” which I believe is about a truck driver with a heroin problem. This song is a true heart-wrencher, and Pharis Patenaude sings it like a broken angel. The chorus is full of regrets, resignation and broken dreams, and lets the methadone be the shadow cast by the song’s real villain:

“It’s a hammer, and it’s a spike

That I use, that I drive

I don’t drink, don’t really smoke

But I take a little methadone to help me when I’m broke.”

And then later in the song you see a life unraveled:

“Just last year, I lost my kids,

I lost my wife, but the kids I miss

Forty five dollars and a month of Sundays

Is what it took for me to get my mind back

When they left.”

I wavered on whether to give “Dry Bones” three stars or four, but “Methadone” pushed it over the top. Every addict out there has a story, and for the most part, that story is similar to the one told in “Methadone” – a life of quiet desperation. Folk music is all about telling the stories of such ordinary folk, and their extraordinary problems.

I’m lucky to not have such problems. My biggest problem is griping about Outlaw Social breaking up instead of making more albums like this one.

Best tracks: Raven, Methadone, Roll and Go, Dry Bones, Grey Fox, Glories, 

CD Odyssey Disc 753: White Stripes

Happy Canada Day! A year ago today I was cleaning my house and reviewing a Mae Moore album. Today is the White Stripes and no house cleaning, thank you very much. Instead I am looking forward to a lazy day with Sheila.

Disc 753 is….De Stijl

Artist: The White Stripes

Year of Release: originally 2000 and then re-released in 2002, presumably when people started to realize ‘hey, this band is pretty good!’

What’s up with the Cover? “De Stijl” is a reference to a Dutch art movement from the first half of the 20^th century, and the cover is an example of it. “De Stijl” is the kind of art that is OK in a gallery but that I’d never want in my home.

Meg White’s shoes are also something I would also never want in my home. I have previously guested on Sheila’s fashion blog, picking “shoes my husband hates.” The monstrosities that Meg is wearing would certainly qualify.

How I Came To Know It: No, I was not there from the beginning. I got into the White Stripes with the rest of the crowd in 2003 with the success of “Elephant.” “De Stijl” was just me drilling into their back catalogue.

How It Stacks Up: I have six White Stripes albums and “De Stijl” is one of the best. It is really tied with “Elephant” for first place, but if you make me pick I’m going to go with “De Stijl” at number one.

Ratings: 4 stars but very close to 5

“De Stijl” answers the question “what would happen if a modern rock act skipped over the Rolling Stones and went straight back to thirties blues?”

With this record the White Stripes have rediscovered that dirty, wretched, yet ever-so-tender sound of artists like Robert Johnson and Son House and fused it with modern rock and folk concepts. The softer sides of this album definitely have a Rolling Stones pop quality to them, such as the English schoolboy crush quality of “Sister, Do You Know My Name?” Even on these softer songs the guitar has a tortured cry that screams Great Depression much louder than British Invasion.

That tortured guitar is Jack White’s signature sound. He has always been able to draw magic out of the guitar, but “De Stijl” features some of his best work. On “Death Letter” he pumps power and distortion into the song well beyond anything the Son House original could accomplish, without ever losing the core of the blues in every note.

On “I’m Bound to Pack it Up” White shows his softer side with some soft strumming that would be at home on a sixties folk record. Songs like this one show that the White Stripes are keen music historians, willing to draw from the rich tradition of rock and roll as well as its progenitors.

Slow or fast, folksy reverie or blues assault, “De Stijl” always feels suffused with energy. These songs ride the emotional edge, threatening at every moment to overwhelm the performers and descend into random screaming or sobbing. Instead they hold tenuously close to disaster, like a motorcycle finding the absolute edge of every turn on a mountain highway. You don’t create greatness without riding close to that edge, and the White Stripes show they’re willing to risk it.

The album has thirteen songs but it is all over in less than 40 minutes, leaving you wanting more. My only quibble is the little kid reciting a poem at the front end of “Let’s Build a Home” but it is short lived and followed by a pretty cool track.

“De Stijl” is one of those albums that is going to age well through the decades. The musical concepts Jack White is playing with are timeless, but subtly infused with new ways to approach and interpret them. Just as important, the energy he and Meg dedicate to every song makes it sound fresh every time you hear it.

Best tracks: You’re Pretty Good Looking (For a Girl), Hello Operator, I’m Bound to Pack it Up, Death Letter, Truth Doesn’t Make a Noise, Jumble Jumble, Why Can’t You Be Nicer to Me?, Your Southern Can is Mine