CD Odyssey Disc 850: Neil Young

This next album is a disaster. Ordinarily I would have sold it immediately after I gave it its requisite three listens (I always give a new album at least three chances to impress me). I kept it only so I could write this review, giving my ears a small measure of vengeance.

Disc 850 is….A Letter Home

Artist: Neil Young

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover? Neil prepares to settle in and record something old timey. The picture is a lot more fun than the result.

How I Came To Know It: I read an article about how Jack White and Neil Young had gotten together to record an album on an old 1940s analog recording booth. The idea appealed to me so I bought it without having heard a single track. This was a mistake.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 20 Neil Young albums, which I think demonstrates that I think highly of him. I do not think highly of “A Letter Home” however, which finishes in last place at #20.

Ratings: 1 star

Neil Young has done many innovative projects over the years, and I’ve enjoyed most of them. “A Letter Home” is not one of those. It is a self-indulgent, meandering mess that takes some of my favourite songs and sucks the life out of them.

The origins for this album lie with Jack White, who got his hands on an old 1940s recording booth, presumably because this is the kind of junk multimillionaire music enthusiasts spend their money on. I don’t judge Jack for this; if I were a multimillionaire I would probably collect rare old stuff too. This should have been the end of it, with the booth locked away with the didgeridoos and Theremins in his Indiana Jones-style vault full of bizarre stuff.

Instead, Jack invited Neil over and showed off his discovery. I imagine them as walking around looking at it over a couple of beers, slowly getting drunk or stoned (or both) before deciding it would be a good idea to lay down a dozen tracks or so. I have to imagine them drunk and stoned because I have too much respect for both of them to picture them doing this sober.

Kidding aside, I expect a lot of musicianship and production talent went into getting the booth to sound as good as it does.

And how good is that, you ask? The production values on this album are about as bad as you can get and still call it music. It sounds like it has been recorded in a tin can that’s been insulated with dung. It sounds like one of those 78s you buy at the thrift store for fifty cents only to discover that someone spilled beer on it in 1964 and never cleaned it off. It sounds like hearing am radio through a walkie-talkie. It sucks.

In Jack and Neil’s defence, this is the sound they were going for. They wanted this authentic ‘old timey’ sound and boy, did they achieve it. Modern indie artists in love with old musical forms have nothing on these guys. This record takes indie to a whole new level. You might say it ‘punks’ indie, and in more ways than one.

Young’s guitar style, which is usually so refreshing sounds more like a vagrant plucking out a tune on a street corner. The piano sounds equally painful (I’m not sure how they fit a piano into the booth, but I wish they hadn’t). Neil’s voice has always been a bit frail, and this album keeps all that frailty intact, while managing to strip out any of the usual emotion from the delivery.

Worst of all, this album gives this this terrible treatment to some of my most beloved songs. Bob Dylan’s “Girl from the North Country,” Gordon Lightfoot’s “Early Morning Rain” and “If You Could Read My Mind” and Bruce Springsteen’s “My Hometown” are all equally abused. The more I liked the original, the more painful it was to hear them hacked out as part of Jack White’s mad science project.

It’s clear that Neil is enjoying the connection to a technology as old as him, but it doesn’t make it good. I also sometimes bang away on my guitar for the sheer pleasure of it, but I don’t record it and try to sell it to people.

“A Letter Home” was a nifty idea, but it results in a very unappealing record. Jack White’s recording booth should be hermetically sealed in some box like the ark of the covenant in ‘Raiders’ and for the same reason; so it doesn’t hurt anyone else.

Best tracks:  uh…nope.

CD Odyssey Disc 849: Corb Lund

It was my first day back at work in a week and a half after a very relaxing holiday. I was dreading my inbox, but everything went pretty smoothly, all things considered.

Disc 849 is….Five Dollar Bill

Artist: Corb Lund

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? I would have liked this take on a five dollar bill but the picture of some kid riding a bull just didn’t appeal. Also for an artist that is so quintessentially Canadian, how come it has to be American money?

How I Came To Know It: Although this is a fairly early Corb Lund record, I came it late. I already had some alternate versions of the songs on “Modern Pain” and other albums appealed to me more when I was digging through his back catalogue. Eventually it was one of the only ones I was missing, and so purchasing it became inevitable.

How It Stacks Up:  I have eight Corb Lund albums. Of those eight, “Five Dollar Bill” isn’t my favourite, but it has its moments. I’ll put it sixth.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Five Dollar Bill” an album that showcases just how much Corb Lund loves tradition, both those of his country and also those of his musical style.

That style is solidly in the country genre, but it is so heavily Canadiana it would be unfair not to add in “folk” as well. In twenty years I expect Corb Lund will be to Alberta what Stan Rogers is to the Maritimes now. “Five Dollar Bill” will be an important entry in his catalogue at that point.

The album starts with the title track, a tale of a man who is one part bootlegger and one part songwriter. Two people get robbed in the song, and a third - the singer - gets his pocket picked. Supposedly the pickpocket makes off with a five dollar bill where the lyrics to the song were written. This made me think, ‘if the lyrics are on the bill and he loses it, how can the song include the theft of the song’? Or is this a different song about losing the first one? It can make your head hurt, until you remember that Corb is never trying to confuse his listeners; he’s trying to wink at us.

Other fun loving songs on the album include “Time to Switch to Whiskey” which has become a crowd favourite at concerts that Corb Lund has to trot out for drunken louts at every show in the same way Steve Earle does with “Copperhead Road.” Fortunately the song is an infectious number, with an important lesson. That lesson is that if you have been drinking beer all night, it may be time to switch to whiskey. No, wait – I’m pretty sure the opposite would be smarter. I guess it depends on where the evening is heading at that point. There’s Corb, winking at me again.

The melodies on the record are not terribly interesting, but they aren’t intended to be. They are there to serve as a platform for the stories Corb sings. Occasionally Corb will branch out, like with the hint of eastern rhythms on “Apocalyptic Modified Blues” but for the most part he plays it straight up country. Old school storytelling country, mind you, not the newfangled pop country popular in Nashville.

Corb Lund albums always bury a few slower tempo tracks with more to say, and genuine emotion in them. “Five Dollar Bill” gives us a few, including “Short Native Grasses (Prairies of Alberta).” It is a song about the uncaring plains of Alberta; so stark when you are looking for a friend, so welcome when you just want to forget about all your troubles. I’ve never seen the prairies but Corb can make you feel like you’re standing right in the middle of a wheat field.

“Heavy and I’m Leaving” is the most musically interesting song, with an entire section of the song that appears to be possessed by the spirit of Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” (not exactly, but the hint is there in the prairie air) only to return to its original course in a way that never feels forced either into or out of the break.

Corb writes great anthems for the working man, but they can edge into kitsch sometimes. When I first heard “Roughest Neck Around” I loved all the oil field imagery (bonus points for referring to oil work as “pulling dragons from the ground”) but after you’ve heard it a few times the expectation of the lyrics make them lose their sizzle.

Some of the songs get a bit too cutesy, as on “Daughter Don’t You Marry No Guitar Picker” which is essentially a blues lick where the premise (all the people a father doesn’t want his daughter to marry) isn’t interesting enough to withstand repeat listens.

However, even these weaker tracks are still pretty good, and aren’t so boring that I felt the urge to skip them. They are like the old stories long-time friends tell each other. Sure you’ve heard the stories before, but you just like to hear them tell it again anyway, even if you know how it ends.

Best tracks:  Short Native Grasses (Prairies of Alberta), Heavy and Leaving, Time to Switch to Whiskey, She Won’t Come to Me

CD Odyssey Disc 848: Ruth Moody

My holiday week continues! This review comes from a secret bunker at an undisclosed location, accessible by neither phone nor email.

Disc 848 is….The Garden

Artist: Ruth Moody

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover? This is one of my favourite album covers. I like the simplicity of it, and I like the colour scheme which is very restful to the eyes. I think it would make a cool tattoo.

I also love the art concept of thistles growing from a woman’s corset. It says “our lives are like a garden, full of both beauty and thistles.”

How I Came To Know It: I’m a fan of the Wailin’ Jennys, and Ruth Moody is one of them when she’s not doing solo stuff. When I saw she had her own album out I decided to give it a shot.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Ruth Moody albums which is most of them (apparently there is a solo EP from way back in 2002, but I expect it is very hard to find). Of the two that I have (this one and 2013's "These Wilder Things" I put "The Garden" in top spot.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“The Garden” is just that; a pleasant walk through one of those overgrown English gardens where you can get lost a little, but never too much.

Of all the Wailin’ Jenny’s, Ruth Moody has the purest tone to her voice; a breathy quality that is equal parts innocence and mystery. She seems to know this about herself, and tends to write songs that dovetail well with her voice. Every now and then I wanted a bit more ‘oomph’ out of these songs, but generally I was happy just to soak in the warm tones.

While there are many guest musicians and background vocalists (including appearances by fellow Jennys Nicky Mehta and Heather Masse) Moody does a lot of the playing herself. In addition to lead vocals, she plays acoustic guitar, banjo, piano, ukulele and accordion. Some people are just gifted at picking up new instruments. Like her vocals, Moody’s playing style on all the instruments is light and breezy. She always sounds relaxed, and listening to her sing and play is like having a tall glass of lemonade in the shade after a long day of working in the yard. She decompresses me.

The first four songs on the album have already become some of my favourite folk songs.

The title track is a beautiful blend of Moody’s voice and her banjo playing, and felt like a Wailin’ Jennys song, with a prayer-like quality that calls you toward positive action.

“Cold Outside” is an intimate song that is playful and sexy in equal measure. It would make a fine companion to Heather Masse’s 2010 song “Mittens” (off her solo album reviewed back at Disc 209) as songs that take the Canadian winter and turn it into a lover’s embrace.

“Travellin’ Shoes” is a classic folk wandering song, with a nice mid-tempo walking pace to go along with it, and a bit (if only a bit) of a rock edge. “We Can Only Listen” starts with a brilliant banjo riff and a nice harmony with Matt Peters, who is apparently so ‘not famous’ I couldn’t find him on…the internet. Thanks to this blog entry future searchers will have better luck.

Unfortunately, the middle of the album doesn’t meet the same standards of the first four songs. It isn’t that what follows is bad, it is just that after those first four tracks I was expecting greatness and ended up with just plain good.

Part of the challenge is the lack of dynamics in the high end of the production, which lets the bass notes dominate and drain the energy out of the melody. The exception here is “The Nest” at Track 8, which is buoyed by some fabulous fiddle playing by Jeremy Penner but other than that not one of my favourites.

I did enjoy “Tell Me” which Moody does in the style of an old forties or fifties crooner. Listening to the song I had visions of her in a calf-length dress entertaining the troops home on leave from fighting the Fuhrer. I would fight the Fuhrer for you, Miss Moody.

…ahem….

Anyway, before the album closes Moody gives us one more standout with “Valentine.” This song suffers from the production a bit, but there is no stopping the intimate soul-bearing vocal performance on this song, which speaks of love that is so powerful it cannot be denied, whether it is right for the people swept up in it or not. As Moody sums up at the end of the song:

“I must have been crazy

Lost in your blood-shot eyes again

But love she marches in

And takes us like an army

now and then”

Overall this album speaks quietly and you have to be willing to settle in and listen to get everything out of it. It is best heard on a summer afternoon while sitting in a secluded garden gazebo. You may wish to have a cup of tea while you’re out there.

Best tracks:  The Garden, Cold Outside, Travellin’ Shoes, We Can Only Listen, Tell Me, Valentine

CD Odyssey Disc 847: Leonard Cohen

Sheila and I were in Vancouver the last few days celebrating our anniversary by visiting friends and a bit of shopping. I didn’t have the greatest luck finding clothes this time but I did hit a rock and roll hat trick; a good album (“Dark Passion Play” by Nightwish), some cool new headphones (the ‘Encore’ by LSTN) and a pair of rock star shoes (the ‘Buster’ by John Fluevog).

A special shout out to Pam at Experience Headphones on west Granville who helped walk me through the various options and find the right match for me.

Disc 847 is….Popular Problems

Artist: Leonard Cohen

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover? This cover looks like it was designed by Cohen after he took a one day course at the community college about how to use Photoshop.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a fan of Leonard Cohen since high school. This is just me buying his latest album when it came out, because that is what I’ve always done.

How It Stacks Up:  With the addition of this record I now have 12 studio albums by Leonard Cohen. “Popular Problems” is near the bottom of the list at #10, but don’t hold that against it. Leonard Cohen’s discography is pretty impressive, and even #10 is better than many other artist’s best efforts.

Ratings: 4 stars. It was right on the edge of 3 and 4, but hearing it one last time on my new Encores put it over the top.

I need to get my hands on whatever supplements Leonard Cohen is taking to stay so fresh and cool. “Popular Problems” was released around the time of Leonard’s eightieth birthday, and it is an exceptional record.

This album represents a comeback for Leonard in my mind. It’s his fourth album released since 2001 and his best over that span. 2001’s “Ten New Songs” has great songs but suffers from bad production, and 2012’s “Old Ideas” is great in places, but uneven overall. The less said about 2004’s “Dear Heather” the better.

On “Old Ideas” Cohen transforms himself from wise old monk to sexy fedora-wearing lounge singer. “Popular Problems” builds on this character and finds his voice with more clarity and insight. In many ways the albums are similar, but “Popular Problems” has a bit more jump and a bit more sass.

It also benefits from superior production decisions. The flourish of violin and horns in many of these songs give them a toe-tapping quality that hearkens back to Cohen’s work on “The Future.” Cohen long ago learned to offset the limitations of his own voice with more talented female backing vocalists. “Popular Problems” finds just the right balance of his gravelly tones and the angelic sounds of Charlean Carmon, Dana Glover and Donna Delory.

Cohen’s voice is starting to show its age, but since he’s always been one half a spoken-word poet it doesn’t really matter. Also, Cohen has a great sense of timing and if the river no longer flows quite so powerful over all that gravel, he still knows its course well enough to make you enjoy the journey.

Cohen shares the songwriting stage with Patrick Leonard (known for his work on some of Madonna’s biggest tracks). Patrick Leonard finds just the right musical pocket for Cohen’s lyrics to play off and reinvigorates Cohen’s music with some fresh approaches.

Subject-wise, Cohen’s interest in the human condition and all its yearning is as fresh as ever. The record starts with “Slow” a song that acknowledges Cohen is slowing down, but only in the sexiest way possible. From there he rarely looks back or focuses on aging.

“Almost Like the Blues” takes an unflinching look at the human misery in the world and “Samson in New Orleans” takes on disillusionment, though whether with faith or friends it isn’t clear. I suspect both.

Cohen’s lyrics have always been a showcase of his music, and while the poetry on “Popular Problems” isn’t at the height of his earlier career, there are still plenty of gems. This is a favourite stanza of mine from “A Street”:

“Baby don’t ignore me

We were smokers we were friends

Forget that tired story

Of betrayal and revenge

I see the Ghost of Culture

With numbers on his wrists

Salute some new conclusion

Which all of us have missed.”

But really this record is more about how Cohen’s lyrics so seamlessly match to the music. The hurt in Cohen’s voice on “Did I Ever Love You” is just one third of what makes the song work. Equally important are Dana Glover’s up-tempo choral response to the question, and the flourishes of organ and violin that add the needed emptiness between the two voices.

My favourite song on the record is “Nevermind” which you may know from the opening credits of Season Two of “True Detective.” With its funky bass beat and its apocalyptic lyrics that speak of sin and genocide and the people who get away with murder, this song will make you bob your head to the groove and then feel guilty for doing so.

The one clunker was “Born in Chains” which feels dated and heavy handed with its church organ sound and Old Testament imagery. However, the whole album (which is a tasteful nine tracks and 35 minutes) this is the only one that didn’t appeal to me either lyrically, melodically or both.

One day Leonard Cohen won’t be with us and that will a sad day for music. However, we can all take heart that he was putting out art of a very high quality right to the end.

Best tracks:  Almost Like the Blues, Samson in New Orleans, Did I Ever Love You, Nevermind

CD Odyssey Disc 846: The Dave Brubeck Quartet

I delayed reviewing this album for an extra day just so I could listen to it a little more.

Disc 846 is….Time Out

Artist: The Dave Brubeck Quartet

Year of Release: 1959

What’s up with the Cover? I’m not sure. Some modern art from back in the fifties. This isn’t usually my thing, but I really like it here, and it suits the record well.

How I Came To Know It: Sheila introduced me to Dave Brubeck. I think her dad introduced her (he was a jazz guy) and we even have his copy of this album on vinyl, which is pretty cool.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only Dave Brubeck album we have so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 5 stars

“Time Out” is the greatest jazz record of all time and I should know, because I have like eight jazz albums. I’m pretty much an expert.

Actually, I know next to nothing about jazz. I rarely understand it and I enjoy it even less often, which is what makes “Time Out” such a revelation. Four musicians – Dave Brubeck (piano), Paul Desmond (saxophone), Eugene Wright (bass) and Joe Morello (drums) all at the height of their craft; each one contributing their genius to make something greater than the sum of its parts.

“Time Out” is energized but never frantic. This is an album for a stroll through your favourite city. You can walk quickly and feel the electricity of it all, or you can amble down the backstreets and enjoy how chill it is. You can spend your time following the rhythm section around, or you can float on the melodies supplied by the piano and saxophone. You can’t go wrong, because there aren’t any missteps anywhere in the mix.

The album is appropriately titled, with its varied time signatures, each more complicated than the last. I’d point out what they are but I don’t understand music well enough to decipher them. There are lots of articles on line that will do it for you, though, since this record has rightly captured the attention of generations of music lovers. What I do know is when you listen to it the general absence of obvious 3/4 or 4/4 time signatures gives the music a restless quality. You’re not sure where it is going to land at any given moment and this keeps your ear active to every turn of the song.

Similarly the melody plays against itself, echoing its way back and forth through various chord progressions. Again, I can’t explain how it all works because I don’t know music theory well enough to do it justice. I just know there is a symmetry and balance throughout. It is the musical equivalent of a tap dancer playing at being slightly out of balance to create energy and drama, yet knowing exactly where his heel or toe is going to land next. Put another way this album takes complex math equations and makes them beautiful.

In lesser hands playing fast and loose with the time signature and bouncing around inside the melody like this is a recipe for disaster. Too often jazz musicians are trying to show the audience how clever they are and fail to make a song listenable. Clever doesn’t always equal good.

Dave Brubeck and his gang of masters do not let their egos wreck their songs. Every track is a joy; a musical journey where each step is in a new direction. Despite the shifts in focus the notes are so artfully placed you are just happy to be along to see where the musical walk will take you.

At the end of this record’s all too short 38 minutes I always feel both well rested and alert. It is like I’ve been meditating the whole time and come out of the experience recharged and relaxed.

“Time Out” was recorded over 45 years ago, but it remains as fresh and interesting as ever. It is one of those albums that I know I’ll play hundreds of times between now and the day I shuffle off this mortal coil and never tire of hearing it. It is a masterpiece.

Best tracks:  All tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 845: Coldplay

There are a few bands I just love to hate. Nickelback, Duran Duran, most of what nu country has to offer and…this band.

Disc 845 is….A Rush of Blood to the Head

Artist: Coldplay

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? I can only assume the rush of blood to this man’s head was so severe that it blew his skull off. Either that or he heard this album and decided to end it all with a skill saw. That makes more sense, given the clean cut-line.

How I Came To Know It: This album belongs to Sheila, not me. However, the CD Odyssey rules are not kind. As Kyle Reese might say, they do not know pity or remorse. They can’t be reasoned with and they can’t be bargained with and they absolutely will not stop – ever – until I’ve listened to all the albums in the collection. Sadly, that includes this album.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only Coldplay album in the collection, so there is nothing for it to stack up against. Hallelujah.

Ratings: 2 stars

My dislike of the band Coldplay is probably unfair, given how little I know about their music. That’s why listening to “A Rush of Blood to the Head” was so satisfying; after an honest and careful listen it confirmed I don’t like them.

There is something about Coldplay that irks me. How a band that is so smug with its own self-importance can make such boring and ordinary music is beyond me, yet they somehow manage it.

“A Rush of Blood to the Head” starts off with three songs that explore the different ways a piano key can be whacked incessantly. “Politik” bangs away in this vein for a few bars, followed by a semi-respite where it is banged some more, only softer. It’s the musical equivalent of being water-boarded, where every now and then you are given a break so the horror can stay fresh.

“In My Place” plays a few different notes that bounce around like Han Solo’s laser in the trash compactor: dangerous, confined and entirely unhelpful. It felt a bit like a bad Killers song. I should note that I don’t like the Killers much either.

The trio is rounded off with “God Put a Smile Upon Your Face” which combines the two effects, a clanging note and a crowded production all in one place, occasionally breaking it down with a guitar strum before they push your head under again.

Then, miraculously, things improve a bit. The album’s two hits “The Scientist” and “Clocks” appear. These songs are actually…OK. They aren’t great, but unlike the album’s first quarter, they are at least listenable.

 In fact, “The Scientist” is pretty good. It is a well-constructed song where the verse and the chorus play prettily off one another. I’ll never be a fan of Chris Martin’s voice, which I feel is more about him showing off his falsetto than it is about serving the song, but he keeps it real on “The Scientist” so I’ll give credit (grudgingly) where it is due.

“Clocks” is OK as well, although that piano riff that starts it off has been so overplayed all I can think about is TV advertisements for cars or cell phones. “Clocks” also shows what it is like when Coldplay strips out some of the excess production from their songs. It transforms them from awful to competent.

The back half of the album is a bit better than the front half. On “Green Eyes” Chris Martin reminded me of Gavin Gardiner, lead singer of Canadian folk band, “The Wooden Sky.” I prefer Gardiner’s voice but it was nice to have Coldplay reminding me of something pleasant. It didn’t happen often while listening to this record.

Unfortunately, it is followed by another pounding clunker in “Warning Sign.” “Warning Sign” had me looking at it at least twice wondering if it was going to be over soon. I did that a lot on this record, which has many songs that are over five minutes long but are musically spent after about two. The warning sign here should have read “Warning: Song Way Too Long.”

My most reviled Coldplay song, “Yellow” is not on this album, which was a small blessing. However there was enough wrong with “A Rush of Blood to the Head” to make me think of the colour yellow, mostly in terms of how it looks in snow.

Best tracks:  The Scientist, Green Eyes

CD Odyssey Disc 844: Emmylou Harris

It was a stormy and cold walk home in a summer suit, but I’m now ensconced in my warm condo in a boring sweater with a cup of tea in my belly and all is well.

Disc 844 is….Red Dirt Girl

Artist: Emmylou Harris

Year of Release: 2000

What’s up with the Cover? This is one of those albums that came with a cardboard jacket that slid around the plastic jewel case. Those covers are an annoying extra step when you want to listen to the CD, so I’ve taken them all off and stored them somewhere that it isn’t easy to access. The cardboard cover is essentially the same picture but with a wider lens. This version is the close up of Emmylou, looking foxy as hell. You’re welcome.

How I Came To Know It: I have been digging through Emmylou’s back catalogue for many years now. I think I had heard “Wrecking Ball” in the early oughts and liked it, and “Red Dirt Girl” was the next album she’d made so I decided to give it a shot.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 11 of Emmylou Harris’ solo albums. Of those 11, it doesn’t get much better than “Red Dirt Girl.” It does get slightly better though, so I only ranked it second.

Ratings: 4 stars

Unlike most of the albums I’ve been reviewing lately, “Red Dirt Girl” isn’t produced by Daniel Lanois, but it still has his fingerprints all over it. Emmylou even thanks him in the liner notes, writing “My thanks to Daniel Lanois for the push.” We should all be thanking Lanois for that push, which showed that even thirty years into her career, Emmylou Harris was still capable of finding new ways to inspire us through music.

“Red Dirt Girl” sees Emmylou Harris to continue to expand into the new direction she took five years earlier with “Wrecking Ball,” which was produced by Lanois. On “Red Dirt Girl” she embraces his production style, with its big atmospheric sound. Thick and rounded bass features high in the mix of every song, making a fitting foil for the high quaver of Harris’ voice. Emmylou’s voice always gives me chills and the stark way she lets it stand out on this album makes it even more effective.

Admittedly the production isn’t quite at Lanois’ level, and while I was out walking on busy streets I found it a bit too bass heavy in places, and lacking strength in the mid-range. It sounded a lot better at home though, so this could just be the limitations of my MP3 player and rush hour traffic.

Emmylou continues explore contemporary folk songs that feature prominently on “Wrecking Ball.” Folk has always infused Harris’ work, and it is only a dogged devotion to always choosing the most upbeat, commercial song on an album for the single that seems to have held her to the narrow demands of Nashville over the years.

The big change here is that Harris takes a hand in writing the majority of these songs. Most of her albums are written by others, with maybe one song that she writes or co-writes. This is a shame, because despite Emmylou’s exceptional ability to make any song her own writing is just as good as any other songwriter she deigns to record. Many of these songs are co-written, which just seems more fitting for the artist who is the most collaborative of any in my collection.

The topics of these songs range all over, with triumph and tragedy, faith and loss all getting equal opportunity.

“Michelangelo” is a song saturated with great images. I’m not an art historian and my cursory online look for the topics mentioned in the song proved fruitless, but lines like:

“Last night I dreamed about you

I dreamed that you lay dying

In a field of thorn and roses

With a hawk above you crying

For the warrior slain in battle

From an arrow driven deep inside you

Long ago

Michelangelo”

Form a picture out of music and words as beautiful as a Renaissance painting.

On “Red Dirt Girl” (the song) Harris paints a different kind of picture; one of the tragedy of the broken dreams of Lillian, a woman who dreamed big, but dies broken down on whisky and pills a few miles from where she was born. The song ends with her buried in the red dirt ground that she hates and despises. The song always puts a tear in my eye for not only Lillian, but anyone who never got the chance to fulfill their potential.

As a book-end to “Red Dirt Girl” Harris offers “Bang the Drum Slowly” a song about the Harris’ father, whose life is heroic and powerful but still too short when he is gone. When he dies all the things Emmylou never got to say to him are gone at the same time. Guy Clark co-wrote “Bang the Drum Slowly” and together they channel some heavy stuff into those un-held conversations:

“I meant to ask you how to fix that car

I always meant to ask you about the war

And what you saw across a bridge too far

Did it leave a scar?”

This album leaves a scar every time I listen to it. When I looked it up to see how it had done I was pleased to see it won a Grammy, but disappointed that the only single released off of it was a cover of the Patty Griffin song “One Big Love” I love Patty Griffin, but “One Big Love” is too cute and pop-infused to properly showcase all the hidden beauty of this record. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that even when Emmylou Harris writes an album full of modern classics, she still makes sure to shine a spotlight on someone else.

Best tracks:  The Pearl, Michelangelo, Tragedy, Red Dirt Girl, Bang the Drum Slowly, My Antonia

CD Odyssey Disc 843: Bob Dylan

With all my late work hours lately, the only thing I feel like I’ve had time for is writing my book, so today I got up early and went to the gym before the day could distract me any further. I am a bit out of shape, so I’m exhausted. However, unlike the flu of last week it is a good kind of exhausted.

Now on to one of the great albums of all time – and the first 5 star album in over 30 reviews here on the CD Odyssey.

Disc 843 is….Oh Mercy

Artist: Bob Dylan

Year of Release: 1989

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a photo of some street art by a guy named Trotsky. I doubt it was the original Russian revolutionary Trotsky, but you never know – in the early days of Soviet Russia they were OK with art that didn’t extoll the virtues of the revolution. Of course, that didn’t last. Outside of Prince’s backup band, revolutions are rarely a good time.

This particular piece of art is what I would rate “better than the bare brick wall.” Not a rousing endorsement for Mr. Trotsky but better than a kick in the ass with a frozen mukluk, as my stepfather used to say.

How I Came To Know It: I went through a phase of buying a lot of Dylan’s back catalogue, and this was one that caught my eye. I think it was because it had “Man in the Long Black Coat” and I’d recently got interested in the song through the 1995 Joan Osbourne album “Relish” (reviewed back at Disc 613).

How It Stacks Up:  I have 19 Bob Dylan albums which is barely more than half of his total discography. Out of those 19, “Oh Mercy” is easily one of the best. I’ll rank it 5^th.

Ratings: 5 stars

“Oh Mercy” is markedly different than the classic Bob Dylan albums of the mid-sixties, but don’t let that deter you; it is every bit their equal.

So many established artists let the eighties sound drag their talent through the mud, but on “Oh Mercy” Dylan rises above those challenges and delivers an exceptional album musically, in its production and in its lyrics.

Musically, this record has incredible range, and to my mind the most range Bob has shown in his career. On other albums he tends to explore a single musical idea. Early on this was playing with traditional folk songs, infused with a Beatnik poet sensibility. Then in the late sixties and early seventies he played around with country and western music. More recently he’s focused his talents around traditional blues arrangements.

“Oh Mercy” has elements of many different styles, ranging from blues numbers (“What Was It You Wanted”) rockabilly (“Everything is Broken”) somber folk songs (“Man in the Long Black Coat”) inspirational devotionals (“Ring Them Bells”) and heartfelt confessions (“What Good Am I?”). Despite all the different musical approaches, the album never feels disjointed or awkward. Every song dovetails to the next with the skill of a master furniture builder fitting a joint.

A big part of this is the production work of Daniel Lanois, who matches his signature ambient sound to Dylan’s genius without ever trodding on it. This is my second review in three albums featuring Lanois (he also produced Robbie Robertson’s solo album at Disc 841) but here he has so much more to work with. Sometimes it is just the crickets chirping in the background of “Man In the Long Black Coat” and sometimes it is Lanois’ guitar playing, full of reverb and emotional import but he always seems to know just what touches to add, and when to just let the song breathe.

An added bonus of Lanois rounding out Dylan’s usual jangle is that it generates what I think is Bob’s finest vocal performance ever. His nasal tone is muted and his singing is full of emotional impact. He hasn’t sounded this good since “John Wesley Harding.”

It helps that these songs have a lot to say. They get deep into your heart and make you examine the lives of the characters they study or (more often than not) challenge your own views on life, the universe and everything.

“Political World” and “Everything is Broken” showcase Dylan’s concern with a decaying society. It is a theme he has explored many times in the past, but these songs are just as strong as his earlier work, and are aided by very interesting musical choices that keep your ear as engaged as your mind.

“Ring Them Bells” and “What Good Am I?” are two of my favourite Dylan songs of all time. Both fill my heart with life’s tough questions, while at the same time empowering me to make a difference. “Ring Them Bells” has a lot of religious connotation and while I’m not religious you can’t help but feel inspired by the song’s optimistic conclusion:

“Ring them bells Saint Catherine from the top of the room

Ring them from the fortress for the lilies that bloom

Oh the lines are long and the fighting is strong

And they're breaking down the distance between right and wrong.”

These lines remind me of my favourite quote from the poet Rumi: “Out beyond ideas of right-doing and wrong-doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”

On the other side of the ledger, “Most of the Time” is such a perfect song of lost love it will remind you all over again of the last time your heart got broken. If that last time that happened wasn’t too bad, then it’ll remind you of the last really bad one. It ends with:

“Most of the time she ain't even in my mind

I wouldn't know her if I saw her

She's that far behind

Most of the time I can even be sure

If she was ever with me

Or if I was ever with her

Most of the time I'm halfway content

Most of the time I know exactly where it went

I don't cheat on myself I don't run and hide

Hide from the feelings that are buried inside

I don't compromise and I don't pretend

I don't even care if I ever see her again

Most of the time.”

Whew. Somehow the breakup song works so well with an unreliable narrator. An honest version of this song would be “Some of the Time” since if you’re writing songs about her, she ain’t out of your system. Of course Bob knows this, but watching the character he presents struggle through that truth makes the hurt that much more real.

I could write an essay about every song on this record, but I’ve already ranted overlong. Go buy this record.

Best tracks:  All tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 842: Jenny and Johnny

Despite being in bed by 10:30 last night I was tired all day today. I feel like I need a weekend and it is only Tuesday.

Disc 842 is….I’m Having Fun Now

Artist: Jenny and Johnny

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover? A sexy summer-clad Jenny Lewis reclines in a driveway. There is some annoying dude also in the photo who I totally don’t remember including when I invited Jenny over for some driveway lounging in our beach wear. Let’s call him “Johnny” since that is probably who he is. Just having him in the shot is making me see red! No, wait - that’s just a filter. I’m fine.

How I Came To Know It: I already knew I liked Jenny Lewis from her previous solo work and work with the band Rilo Kiley. When I heard she had done a collaboration with boyfriend Johnathan Rice I decided to give it a chance.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only “Jenny and Johnny” album I have. It is kind of like a Jenny Lewis solo album, and since I included it when ranking Lewis’ solo album “The Voyager” back at Disc 675 I’ll do so again. Of those four albums, I’ll put “Jenny and Johnny” third.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

When I bought “Jenny and Johnny” it was billed to me as a solid summertime ‘go to the beach’ type of album and that’s what it turned out to be. This is an album of solid pop songs that give you a pleasant relaxed vibe, but the production gets in the way of the more thoughtful qualities the album also aspires to.

The hallmarks of Jenny Lewis’ solo career are still here, with the easy melodies and lyrics that are straightforward and personal. Lewis has a talent for taking dark and depressing subject matter and wrapping it up in upbeat pop songs so it takes a few lessons for you to realize everything isn’t just fun in the sun.

The music has a bit of a Beach Boys “Pet Sounds” feel, with a lot of fuzzy wall-of-sound stuff, and melodies between Jenny and Johnny. It reminded me a bit of the Blake Sennett songs from her time in Rilo Kiley; airy and light. It is very well done (and generally better than those Sennett tracks) but I still found myself wishing for more Jenny and less Johnny.

The songs would benefit from a bit less of the fuzz that infuses the record and let the songs stand on their own merits. The constant high singing and thick coating of sugary production sometimes makes everything feel a bit too twee and precious. A song like ‘Just Like Zeus’ is best in the first bar, when it is just Jenny singing, and when Johnny joins in it feels kind of like the Carter Family before Johnny Cash; precise but lacking an edge.

“New Yorker Cartoon” has a pretty tune but the imagery is too strained, and it drew me out of the experience. It was like they fell in love with the idea of a New Yorker cartoon a bit too much for their own good, which is odd, because New Yorker cartoons aren’t even that good. I’d rather read Dilbert.

But I digress…

Back to the good stuff on this album, because despite my lukewarm tone there is plenty of it. “My Pet Snakes” is full of energy and has Lewis in full throat. Johnny’s raspy and airy voice works here as a nice offset to hers. I liked them trading lyrics back and forth rather than working harmonies all the time.

“Big Wave” is an infectious song that just makes you want to go surfing, even though Jenny sneaks in lyrics about living beyond our means. The tune makes you feel like you are just one big wave away from the best time of your live, but the actual big wave here is debt and excess, about to crash down around your ears. As usual with Jenny Lewis, she is a master of juxtaposing fun and tragedy.

Like a lot of Jenny Lewis’ work, “I’m Having Fun Now” has a lot more going on than is immediately apparent. It is a fun trip to the beach, but also one that when you look around a bit you find some bums sleeping behind the public toilets. There is enough substance to give the album a full 4 stars, but some of the production decisions held it just south of that mark for me.

Best tracks:  My Pet Snakes, Switchblade, Big Wave, Just Like Zeus, Straight Edge of the Blade

CD Odyssey Disc 841: Robbie Robertson

Today is a good day. I am starting to feel better and I’ve had a relaxing morning watching old movies on daytime T.V. and recharging my batteries. I probably should have done something useful, but I think I deserve points for honesty.

Disc 841 is….Robbie Robertson (Self-Titled)

Artist: Robbie Robertson

Year of Release: 1987

What’s up with the Cover? And so Robbie’s giant head continues to haunt the…train station? Stadium? A&W drive in? Whatever it is, it has Robbie looking pensive and distracted. That would happen to anyone who was having their hair melt away into the sky.

How I Came To Know It: This album belongs to Sheila. She’s liked it since it first came out and bought it on CD to replace her cassette tape copy when that technology died. I’m just along for the ride.

How It Stacks Up:  Unless you count Spooky Tooth’s remake of the classic Band song “The Weight,” this is all the Robbie Robertson we have, so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars

Listening to Robbie Robertson’s first solo album I couldn’t stop thinking about Peter Gabriel’s “So” (reviewed back at Disc 777). Robertson’s album has a lot in common with that album, except it was released a year later and is not as good. Sorry, Robbie.

It makes sense that the albums have a similar sound and not just because of their release years. Both are produced by Canadian Daniel Lanois and both benefit from the atmospheric majesty that is Lanois’ signature sound. “Fallen Angel” even features Gabriel on backing vocals, so the connection was more than just in my head. Unfortunately, Robertson’s record doesn’t achieve the same level as “So,” principally because the songs are not as strong.

There are still things to like about the record. I liked the gravel in Robertson’s voice and the songs are well constructed with solid progressions. That they didn’t appeal to me has more to do with my general dislike of what the mid to late eighties did with music than any particular sin on Robertson’s part.

The big hit on the record was “Showdown at Big Sky” which made it all the way to #2 and was everywhere on the radio back in the day. I don’t hate this song, but I could never figure out what the fuss was all about. It is just OK.

For me the magic happens on “Broken Arrow” which is far and away the best song on the record. I love its slow and measured start and I love its whimsical and romantic lyrics:

“Who’s gonna bring you a broken arrow?

Who’s gonna bring you a bottle of rain?”

Everything from Robbie’s soulful delivery to the light touches of reverbed electric guitar is perfect, even the slow fadeout (which usually annoys me) works on “Broken Arrow.” This is a song for everyone who ever lost their breath when they first saw a beautiful girl and wondered what would be the perfect thing to say to win her heart. Just walk up to her and smoothly ask:

 “Do you feel what I feel?

Can we make that so it's part of the deal?”

And if that scares her off (which is likely, by the way) she wasn’t feeling it anyway. Just as well you didn’t break out the “bottle of rain” stuff and really freaked her out. I’m just happy to live in Robbie Robertson’s world, where that kind of heartfelt and slightly cheesy line works, if only for the 5:24 that the song lasts.

The other standout is “Testimony” which sounds like James Brown crossed with David Bowie. Robertson clearly enjoys testifying as he celebrates the life of the artist, even invoking the name of Apollo himself. It is big, ballsy and celebratory.

Other than these two songs, the album didn’t hold my attention. “Sweet Fire of Love” felt like U2 (again, under the influence of Daniel Lanois) but without the majesty of Bono’s voice. “Somewhere Down the Crazy River” is a spoken work piece where Robertson is trying to sound chill and relaxed but instead comes off like a watered down Tom Waits.

While uneven, Robertson’s first solo effort is solid enough that I’m going to give it 3 stars. “Broken Arrow” is a classic and if the rest of the album didn’t blow me away, it was still a pleasant enough listen overall.

Best tracks:  Broken Arrow, Testimony

Figurine: Dwarven Gyrocopter

If you read the byline to the blog's title you'll see it is not just music - it is also the occasional painted miniature.

I don't pursue this hobby much anymore, as most of my spare time goes to writing my book. As a result these posts have gone from occasional to rare. With that said, here's my latest - a dwarven gyrocopter:

 This is one of those figures that takes forever to paint, with all kinds of finicky little details that look great when they are done, but aren't very much fun in the doing.

Here's a shot of our helicopter pilot. I decorated the base with model railroad bushes and rocks to make it look more authentic.

Here he is from the other side:

And here are the blades of the 'copter. I tried to capture the feel of yellowed fabric stitched to a steel frame and I think it works to some degree.

And that's about it. We now return you to your regularly scheduled music review programming.

CD Odyssey Disc 840: Redbone

Being sick has made this week drag a bit. I can’t remember the last time I got sick (it rarely happens) but as long as it’s over by the weekend I’ll be happy.

Disc 840 is….Redbone (Self-Titled)

Artist: Redbone

Year of Release: 1970

What’s up with the Cover? Well that’s a red bone. I suppose this makes sense.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Tony would occasionally bring music to our weekly games night and one night he brought a Redbone album. I liked it and decided to get me some of that.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have this one Redbone album, so it doesn’t really stack up.

Ratings: 2 stars

Most bands like to wait until they’re established to release a bloated double album full of whatever weird stuff they came up with jamming in the studio. “Redbone” decided to make that experience their debut.

On the one hand I have to admire the chutzpah of a band that goes with 17 songs over 73 minutes as the way to introduce themselves to the musical world. Unfortunately the album while musically interesting, meanders far too much to hold my attention for even a fraction of its very extended playing time.

“Redbone” is a lot of things. They are mostly southern boogie woogie in the same vein as Little Feat, with elements of jazz and funk thrown in for good measure. Having just reviewed an album that showed how to blend different sounds around their common qualities (Guru’s “Jazzmatazz”), I was expecting more from Redbone than the boys were able to muster.

Redbone definitely brings the funk in places, and this is the aspect of their sound that first drew me. Lead guitar Lolly Vasquez has a bright and cheerful quality to his playing which I’ve never heard before, and that I enjoyed. He is particularly good on those songs when he gets a chance to show off a sprightly solo, which have a playful quality very unlike most rock guitar solos of the same vintage.

Unfortunately, the songs often bury Lolly in a bunch of odd tempo changes and meandering instrumentals that seem to have more in common with directionless modern techno music than they do with traditional boogie woogie grooves.

When the songs are shorter they show the band’s ability, but as soon as they start noodling (which they do often) they lose the script of their own melody. “Jambone” is a good example; a song almost eight minutes long that never seems to get started. Lolly’s guitar work is amazing, but by the time I heard it I was already too bored to refocus my interest.

Also, while this album is filled with groovy funk guitar, it never seems to sit down underneath an equally cool melody. It feels like a groovy lick, or a groovy solo, but without enough to hold all that together. There are a couple of times when the band fades out for what seems like forever, presumably because they aren’t sure how to wrap up a song that hasn’t gone anywhere.

There are some bright spots on this record (four of them in fact, all listed below under “best tracks”) but those bright spots aren’t enough to carry you through the ambling excess of the rest of the experience. If you like to just sit back and hear a groove without purpose (or if you like techno music) this might actually be for you. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for me, leaving me with the grim choice of whether I’m keeping it for these four songs. I’m going to go listen to each of them in turn and then let you know…

…

And I’m back. The surprising verdict: I’m going to keep this album for those songs. They are pretty damned good. I’ll just always remember to skip the rest of the album.

Best tracks:  Prehistoric Rhythm, Promise I Won’t Let it Show, Chance to See, (I Can’t) Handle It

CD Odyssey Disc 839: Guru

Another day trying to get healthy and meet deadlines at the same time. I’m knackered.

Disc 839 is….Jazzmatazz Volume 1

Artist: Guru

Year of Release: 1993

What’s up with the Cover? The Guru himself, breathing smoke out of his nose and looking cool. Also he has listed all of his jazz collaborators on the front cover, in a fitting show of solidarity and also cool.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Casey introduced me to this album and with it a whole journey into not only the music of Guru, but of his original rap band Gang Starr as well. Thanks, Casey!

How It Stacks Up:  Guru did four Jazzmatazz albums. I once owned three of them, but Volume 3 (reviewed back at Disc 631) it scared me off getting the fourth. Of the three I own (or have owned) Volume 1 is far and away the best.

Ratings: 4 stars

Whenever I listen to “Jazzmatazz: Volume 1” I find myself wishing jazz could always be like this; providing a little flavour around the edges of an actual song but not wrecking it. Jazz is the millwork that dreamed it was the entire building.

Guru knows better – jazz needs musical boundaries as a backdrop to showcase its creativity. In his words (spoken in the album’s introduction), Jazzmatazz:

“…is an experimental fusion of hip hop and live jazz. Hip hop, rap music, is real. Real cultural expression based on reality and at the same time jazz is real and based on reality.”

Hmm. Guru’s quote is a little too focused on keeping it ‘real’. Fortunately, musically he is much better at creating the fusion of jazz and rap than he is at describing it.

“Jazzmatazz” is an album where Guru gathers old school and new school jazz musicians alike and marries their talents to original rap songs. The result is a what jazz fusion would sound like if it were fused with something good. The songs on “Jazzmatazz” are grounded in hip-hop beats and Guru’s measured, smooth raps. The jazz musicians provide the flair around the edges without disrupting the core of the song.

This works perfectly. Rap relies on a constant understanding of a song’s underlying beat, while the vocalist plays around that beat with his phrasing Jazz is very similar, but it is the musician noodling around on top of the beat. Both musical forms rely on syncopation in different ways, and when combined they come off as natural friends.

Guru’s smooth rap style is the perfect accompaniment. By sliding in and out of his rhymes in such a round and relaxed way, he gives his jazz collaborators the freedom to come in and out and fill out the song’s sound without feeling intrusive. The album’s ever-present hip hop beat grounds vocalist and musical soloist with equal success.

Thematically, these songs have a definitive urban flair and many feel like they were inspired by the New York subway system. “Transit Ride” reminds you to watch the closing doors and “No Time To Play” captures the feverish intensity of people on their daily commute. The jazz flairs are the perfect urban accompaniment to the themes. Sometimes it is a touch of Lonnie Liston Smith’s piano here and there (“Down the Backstreets”) other times it is a shade of Donald Byrd’s trumpet (“Loungin’”) but Guru always seems to choose the right partner for each song.

On “When You’re Near” and “Trust Me” he brings in soul/acid jazz vocalist N’Dea Davenport. These are two of my favourite tracks. Nowadays it is commonplace for a rap act to incorporate a soul singer to belt out a hook for their song, but it often feels like an empty manipulation to make a boring song more likeable. On “When You’re Near” and “Trust Me” N’Dea Davenport’s vocal doesn’t feel tacked on, it feels integral to the song’s development.

Despite all the jazz flourishes this record rarely feels frantic or overstuffed. In fact, tracks like “Loungin’” and “Down the Backstreets” are chill and relaxed. I think it helps that this is still early enough in the development of rap that the arrangements remain sparse and focused on vocal delivery, leaving space for the jazz to explore.

This album just exudes cool, and I admit the flourishes of jazz around the edges has a lot to do with that. Branford Marsalis, whose saxophone annoyed me on Sting’s solo albums was a welcome addition on “Jazzmatazz.” Context (and restraint) is everything.

Although Guru would go on to release three more Jazzmatazz albums, he would never recapture the perfect mix of dope beats and jazz noodle that he captured on “Volume 1.” This album finds the perfect middle ground between two musical cousins, and then gives them the freedom to dance together.

Best tracks:  Loungin’, When You’re Near, No Time To Play, Take a Look (At Yourself), Trust Me, Slicker Than Most

CD Odyssey Disc 838: Blue Oyster Cult

As Kris Kristofferson once wrote, I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt. I thought it was a hangover on Sunday and through the day Monday, but by Monday night I realized the hangover was gone but my head still hurt. Now I’m just sick, which I suppose is an improvement.

Disc 838 is….Imaginos

Artist: Blue Oyster Cult

Year of Release: 1988

What’s up with the Cover? Behold the Gothic horror of 19^th century New England! I love everything about this cover. Lightning storms, old mansions on the edges of cliffs and (while you can’t see it) a tall ship parked off a reef at night on the inside of the jacket.

How I Came To Know It: Blue Oyster Cult has always been one of my favourite bands and has become the default house band for me in adulthood. I bought this album soon after leaving home and realizing I could no longer easily borrow my brother’s copy. Like most BOC, I have it on both vinyl and CD.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 11 of Blue Oyster Cult’s studio albums. “Imaginos” is an awesome record, but this is an awesome band and it could only manage ninth place overall.

Ratings: 4 stars

Not unlike the story it tells, “Imaginos” is an album out of step with its time.

For a band that was always masterful at recounting strange tales, Blue Oyster Cult released their heavy concept album “Imaginos,” - full of progressive arrangements and otherworldly fancy - at a time ruled by vacuous hair metal and eighties synth pop. Not surprisingly the world wasn’t ready for it, and it tanked commercially. Well the world can go to hell; I’ve loved this album since the first time I heard it and I still love it.

The album comes on the heels of one of BOC’s worst efforts, the synth driven “Club Ninja” but is unlike that album in almost every way. Where “Club Ninja” is airy and artificial, “Imaginos” has its feet grounded in hard progressive rock that we Blue Oyster Cultists had been longing for.

So what changed? Principally it was the return of drummer and songwriter Albert Bouchard. BOC is one of those bands where all the band members get involved on the songwriting and the resulting creative range is one of the things that makes the band great. They are more than the sum of their parts. Albert Bouchard brings the creepy and weird to the music, and “Imaginos” is his baby, which he began giving birth to in the mid-seventies.

In fact one of the tracks, “Astronomy,” was first released on 1974’s “Secret Treaties” but don’t make the mistake of thinking that makes this record a rehash of old material. If anything, “Astronomy” fits as well here as it does on that classic early album.

The rest of the record is all new material (or at least newly released) worked on while Bouchard was out of Blue Oyster Cult for most of the eighties, and then adding the H.P. Lovecraft-inspired lyrics of producer Sandy Pearlman. The subject always reminds me of the Lovecraft story “Shadow Over Innsmouth” about a small town in league with an evil aquatic race. However, the liner notes for “Imaginos” indicates its own crazy mythology spanning hundreds of years of arcane experiences, creatures from other worlds, time portals and mythical artifacts.

Is Pearlman’s poetry beautiful? Sometimes, such as these lines from “Magna of Illusion”:

“Cornwall and the harbor

Where witches went mad more than once and

Until this day

In dreams at least

The lighthouse at Lost Christabel

Squat and hugely tilts

Upon the strand where Grandad’s house was built”

And other times it is just bizarre like these from “Blue Oyster Cult”:

“Recall the dream of Luxor

How fluids will arrive

As if by call or schedule

Resume through the morning tide

Where entry is by seaweed gate

And plan the plan of dreams

To lose oneself in reverb

In all that is and all that seems”

Yes the song is called the same thing as the band and yes dreaming of Luxor and entering by the seaweed gate is all a bit weird. Nevertheless, when combined with Bouchard’s musical accompaniment and the band’s masterful playing it all makes sense. You will lose yourself in reverb just like the lyrics suggest.

And musically, this album rocks hard. Sure it has song after song that is six to eight minutes long and saddled with titles like “The Seige and Investiture of Baron Von Frankenstein’s Castle at Weisseria” but those songs undeniably rock. “The Seige and (etc.)” even has lead guitar licks from Joe Satriani, although personally I’ll take Buck Dharma’s guitar over Satriani any day.

The sheer crunch on this record on tracks like “I Am The One You Warned Me Of” are worth the price of admission. Couple that with the weird glory of  “Les Invisibles,” “Magna of Illusion” (complete with breathless radio play-like dialogue) and the rock anthem of “Astronomy” that refused to get old, and you’ve got a record that may be crazy, but is also crazy-good.

The title track, “Imaginos” is the only one that truly lets me down, feeling a bit like a show tune or the kind of song that plays over the credits of the movie instead of feeling like it was part of the tale.

Still, you can tell simply from the overflow of guest musicians on this record that BOC was well remembered in 1988, and “Imaginos” shows that they had one more truly great album in them before they embarked on the Tour Without End (where they remain to this day). And no, that is not a euphemism for death (except in the case of Lanier, bless his soul). They are just seriously still on tour. And I’ll go every damn time I can and every time I will live in hope they’ll pull out a track or two from “Imaginos.” It is not their best album but it is one of their bravest and most thoughtful.

Best tracks:  I Am The One You Warned Me Of, Les Invisibles, The Seige and Investiture of Baron Von Frankenstein’s Castle at Weisseria, Astronomy, Magna of Illusion, Blue Oyster Cult