CD Odyssey Disc 895: Leonard Cohen

Having had an unpleasant encounter with our medical system, I am now home to enjoy what remains of a day off.

My family doctor retired. This means when I have a routine medical question for a doctor I have to go sit in a clinic waiting room with a motley mix of sick people and hypochondriacs. Two hours into what I was told was a one hour wait, and two patients after I was told there was only one patient in front of me, my patience for being a patient (which is never high) had evaporated. I left. At least I had a good book to keep me company.

Disc 895 is….The Future

Artist: Leonard Cohen

Year of Release: 1992

What’s up with the Cover? I don’t mind the theme of this logo – I like hummingbirds, hearts and handcuffs as much as the next guy – but seeing it always makes me feel a little regret. I saw this tour back in the day and didn’t buy a t-shirt from the merch table, and seeing the album cover always makes me wish I had.

How I Came To Know It: I owned “I’m Your Man” and “Various Positions” on tape at this time and loved them both, so when a new Cohen album came out, I bought it immediately on the exciting new format of CD!

How It Stacks Up:  I have 12 of Cohen’s studio albums and 1 live record. Of the 12 studio albums “The Future” is way up at fourth best, which is some pretty rarified company.

Ratings: 4 stars

In 1992 the 58 year old Cohen was dating 33 year old movie star Rebecca de Mornay. Whatever vitality he managed to siphon out of rocking that cradle definitely makes it onto “The Future,” which is infused with large helpings of raw energy and restless romanticism.

This album has received a ton of playtime over the years: a combination of me really loving it, and only owning a handful of CDs at the time. I could probably quote the whole thing line for line as it played. Of course I don’t do that, as I am not a total douchebag.

I’ve probably given this album too much play, because all my intimate knowledge of it somewhat deadens the impact it used to have on me.

This is a damned shame, because this is a great record. It is hopeful and apocalyptic in equal measure, with a groovy jazz backbeat feeling that never falls into the muddy note-frenzy mania of true jazz. Cohen records often have bad production, but not “the Future” which is rich and deep like Cohen’s gravelly voice, but sparse enough so every word has room to sink in.

The opening (and title) track is Cohen’s commentary on the future. Cohen sees the lack of our traditional Western notions of right and wrong in the wake of the Cold War, and seems to simultaneously despair and revel in the results. It is a great opening salvo on a record that is exploring where we are going as a society, and how Cohen reflects that examination back on himself as a man.

The album’s radio single (or what passes for a radio single from a poet like Cohen) is “Closing Time.” This song is the perfect snapshot of the end of a night at the club, when the lights come with all that ramped up drunken, sexualized energy still lingering in the air. In 1992 I was single and doing a lot of clubbing and this song really captures the experience. Years later it is a pleasant reminder of what it all felt like: the booze-soaked carpet, the half-committed, half-dismissive smile of the woman across from you, and the bouncers, slowly herding the lot of you closer and closer to the door.

Mid-way through the album “Democracy” is the companion piece to the title track’s opening challenge, with Cohen expressing a complex mix of accusation, optimism and maybe just a little fatigue with the whole thing. Cohen is one of the world’s great poets, and I could quote the whole song, but for the sake of brevity here are a couple of my favourite selections. First Cohen’s romantic notion of American democracy:

“It’s coming to America first,

The cradle of the best and of the worst

It’s here they got the range

And the machinery for change

And it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.”

And a reminder that sometimes you just need to put the placard down and spend a quiet night in:

“I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean

I love the country but I can’t stand the scene

And I’m neither left or right

I’m just staying home tonight

Getting lost in that hopeless little screen.”

And the whole of it set to the beat of drums more at home during a military march than a pop song, reminding us that democracy has always been a struggle, and that’s what helps make it great.

Cohen even takes his turn at a couple of covers. He does “Be For Real,”a Frederick Knight song recorded by Marlena Shaw in 1976. Shaw’s version (which you can hear here) is pretty sweet, but at 58 Cohen still manages to out-sexy her. That “Be For Real” can hold up to the amazing poetry in other tracks on “The Future” is a testament to both its strength as a song and Cohen’s delivery.

Cohen also covers Irving Berlin’s “Always” and while it is OK, it drags on too long. At eight minutes, and full of background sounds of people drinking and mingling, it fails on the production side as well. If “Closing Time” is what a happening club sounds like at the end of the night, then “Always” is what that same club sounds like forty years later when the upholstery is all stained and only the local booze donkeys frequent the place.

The album ends with an instrumental, “Tacoma Trailer” and at his live shows Cohen will still plunk this thing out on a little stand up organ. It is a beautiful mood piece that showcases Cohen’s talents as a songwriter, even when he isn’t relying on his incredible talent as a poet.

Over the years the song that has always stuck with me the most is “Anthem,” a song about hope and hanging in there. Its chorus holds what I think is the album’s main message, and a great piece of advice that I’ll leave you with, since Cohen’s words will always fare better than my own:

“Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.”

Best tracks:  The Future, Be For Real, Closing Time, Anthem, Democracy

CD Odyssey Disc 894: Nick Cave

I am pretty tired tonight, but this Odyssey won’t sail itself, so here we go…

Disc 894 is….The Good Son

Artist: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Year of Release: 1990

What’s up with the Cover? The second cover in a row to feature kids. This time there are four ankle biters and Uncle Nick is playing them a tune on the piano. Knowing Cave’s musical canon, whatever he’s playing has a good chance to give them all nightmares. They should all be thankful Cave won't release “Murder Ballads” for another six years.

How I Came To Know It: About six months ago I was poking around Nick Cave’s back catalogue to see if there were any albums I still wanted. I purchased “The Good Son” and “Let Love In” at that time.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 10 of Nick Cave’s 15 studio albums, which is everything from 1988 to now with the exception of “Henry’s Dream” (which didn’t grab me). I don’t really dig his earlier work, so I’ll save a spot for “Skeleton Key” (being released this coming September) but otherwise consider my collection complete. Of those 10, “The Good Son” is a good record held down by the fact that Nick Cave has so many good records. I must reluctantly put it…ninth.

Because this is the last Nick Cave album I currently own, here’s a recap:

1. Murder Ballads: 4 stars (reviewed back at Disc 369)
2. The Boatman’s Call: 4 stars (reviewed back at Disc 13)
3. Abbatoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus: 4 stars (reviewed back at Disc 525)
4. No More Shall We Part: 4 stars (reviewed back at Disc 65)
5. Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!!: 4 stars (reviewed back at Disc 308)
6. Let Love In:  4 stars (reviewed back at Disc 810)
7. Tender Prey: 3 stars (reviewed back at Disc 554)
8. Push the Sky Away: 3 stars (reviewed back at Disc 765)
9. The Good Son: 3 stars (reviewed right here)
10. Nocturama: 3 stars (reviewed back at Disc 370)

Ratings: 3 stars

“The Good Son” opens with a song titled “Foi Na Cruz” which is Portuguese for “it happened on the cross.” It sets the tone for an album that feels solemn and sacred like a church hymn but with a sense of foreboding; a mind sliver of discomfiture that Cave twists into all of his art.

If I hadn’t taken the time to look up what “Foi Na Cruz” meant it wouldn’t have mattered much; when Nick Cave sings something you just know it is important. His rich and haunting baritone has a gravitas regardless of what he’s saying.

The whole record feels like it was recorded in an echoing church hall, and many songs besides “Foi Na Cruz” have strong hymnal qualities, including “The Ship Song” and “The Witness Song.”

Of the three, “The Ship Song” is the most beautiful. It is a gentle piano-driven love song, with backup singers humming and Cave inviting his lady to:

“Come sail your ships around me

And burn your bridges down

We make a little history, baby

Every time you come around

“Come loose your dogs upon me

And let your hair hang down

You are a little mystery to me

Every time you come around.”

God damn, Nick Cave is a sexy man, and he drenches these lyrics with desire and dark promises that can’t be denied.

“The Weeping Song” is Cave at his dirgiest, as he witnesses men and women weeping for each other. Cave points out the children are not weeping, but merely crying since “true weeping is yet to come.” It is a nuanced divide between mere fear and sadness and true existential dread – the latter being a Nick Cave specialty. The song has a driving beat that establishes a powerful sense of inevitability; that weeping will come for all of us one day. It is grim and glorious.

I recently watched Nick Cave’s documentary “20,000 Days on Earth” made during the making of the 2013 album “Push the Sky Away,” and Cave reveals one of his songwriting secrets is to take two unrelated images and hold them up to one another (I am paraphrasing). I thought of it listening to “Lament” as he sings:

“I've seen your fairground hair,

Your seaside eyes

Your vampire tooth, your little truth

Your tiny lie”

Great stuff, although the album is not without its faults. Both the title track and “The Witness Song” are six minutes long and both need to end two minutes sooner. Cave is attempting to cast a spell with his church-like delivery and scripted delivery on both tracks, but the songs lack the necessary combination of malleability and strength to withstand the treatment. “Lament” survives on the strength of its lyrics, and it “The Weeping Song” and “The Ship Song” are the album’s three true standouts.

For all that, the record is still a good one. Cave is the master of choosing just the right chord variations as the match to his majestic melodies. “The Good Son” is quiet and gentle for a Nick Cave album, but it still has more to say than your average rock record and is worth a listen. If nothing else, play “The Ship Song” for your lover and thank me later. If you don’t have a lover, and you’re wondering what life’s all about then play “The Weeping Song” and take comfort in the fact that you’re not alone in feeling alone.

Best tracks:  The Weeping Song, The Ship Song, Lament

CD Odyssey Disc 893: Justin Townes Earle

Hello Saturday morning! I have a very lazy weekend, which is exactly what I need sometimes. I plan to spend a lot of time with Sheila and listen to a lot of music.

Disc 893 is….Single Mothers

Artist: Justin Townes Earle

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover? They grow up so fast don’t they? Particularly when they pose in adult clothing and get all serious. This cover has a nice simplicity to it, and a hint of trouble in the expressions of the kids which is exactly what the album calls for thematically.

It may just be the Canadian in me but is that a portrait of Burton Cummings in the background? You may ask “which portrait” but I’m pretty sure you can guess who. Get it? Get it? Man I crack myself up.

How I Came To Know It: I went to buy Earle’s 2015 album “Absent Fathers” and this album (which is really a companion piece released just a few months earlier) was also there so I bought it at the same time.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four of Justin Townes Earle’s albums. They are all pretty close in ranking, but I’ll put “Single Mothers” first. The competition is tough, though, and on any given day it could be as low as third depending on my mood.

Ratings: 4 stars

Heartache is a common theme in music, but not everyone does it well. Justin Townes Earle does heartache like a champ, and “Single Mothers” is him at his rainy-day finest.

As Earle’s career has progressed he has infused more and more blues into his music. Most of the songs on “Single Mothers” have bluesy chord progressions but I still can’t rightly call it blues. There are too many elements of country and rock infused throughout. Like a lot of good artists, Earle is hard to categorize.

The opening track is a prime example. “Worried Bout the Weather” has a country mosey to it that is reinforced by a steel guitar, but Earle’s delivery is all about the blues. He has a very interesting throaty-tone to his voice and he kind of warbles around like a latter-day Otis Redding in a lower register. I suspect he’d like the comparison.

Earle tends to tackle very personal topics and for the most part he foregoes metaphor in favour of plain talking. Of course there are exceptions (“Worried Bout the Weather” is not actually about the weather) but for the most part Earle doesn’t want any sugar coating on the bitter pills he’s swallowing.

Every Earle album has a song that punches me right in the solar plexus and leaves me gasping for air. On “Single Mothers” that song is “Picture in a Drawer” which is one of the top ten depressing songs I’ve ever heard. It has a quiet almost muted production that makes you think of someone sitting in a dark room with thick curtains drawn. When Earle’s voice breaks that spell it is only to expose the darkness in the mind of the person sitting there, reluctantly taking a call from his momma:

“Ah but momma if you don't mind can we talk about something else?

Momma please don't come over, this ain't nothing you can know

You'll be the first to know when I start to come around

I'm not drowning I'm just seeing how long I can stay down.

“Momma she's gone, just a picture in a drawer

Kind of hurt that takes a rainy day and hurts that much more

Momma she's gone, well you know there's nothing tying me to this town

Now that she's gone

Don't know why I ever come back, I guess I just tagged along

I can't believe that once I called this place my home

I'm walking the streets and all I see is ghosts.”

Note how Earle deftly creates lots of long ‘o’ internal vowel rhymes but never allows the lines to rhyme perfectly, creating a sense of unease and incompleteness. But forget all the English lit analysis: put this stuff to music and it busts me up every time I hear it. Despite this I can’t stop putting it on over and over again. It is wallowing at its absolute best.

After hearing “Picture in a Drawer” Earle turns the tempo up, but “Wanna Be A Stranger” and “White Gardenias” but they are still more songs about relationship breakdown. They may not be as perfectly poignant as “Picture in a Drawer” but lines like “my heart didn’t break/it tore apart like paper” keep the quality of the heartache at a high level.

The record is only 10 songs and 29 minutes long and it always ends too soon for me, but it is good to be left wanting more. Packaging-wise, I’d like a record this poetic to include a lyrics booklet, but I suppose in 2014 with the CD market dying that is a pretty big ask.

The album ends with “Burning Pictures” which is a fitting end to a record with this much hurt on it. It’s got a triumphant feel and a rock guitar riff that shakes off the torpor and reminds us that at some point we have to shake off our past mistakes and regrets. As Earle puts it “aren’t you tired of lighting fires and burning pictures?” The music implies that our curtains-drawn momma’s boy might just decide to get outside and see the world. Knowing Earle it’ll still be raining, but this is great music for walking in the rain.

If you are only going to get one Justin Townes Earle album then you are an idiot. However, even idiots deserve a break; give yourself one and buy “Single Mothers.”

Best tracks:  Worried Bout the Weather, Today and a Lonely Night, Picture in a Drawer, Wanna Be A Stranger, White Gardenias, Burning Pictures

CD Odyssey Disc 892: Howard Jones

I never file albums into the main collection until I’ve given them a good three listens, and consequently one section of my CD shelf is entirely populated with new music. Imagine my excitement when I rolled that section! As luck would have it, though, one of only two albums that Sheila has recently purchased got rolled. It could have been a lot worse though; her other album was Duran Duran.

Disc 892 is….Human’s Lib

Artist: Howard Jones

Year of Release: 1984

What’s up with the Cover? Howard is on the left, and the rest of these portraits are of people with some sort of malediction or facial deformity. The poor woman in the middle appears to have one and a half faces, and the man to her left appears to be caught in a windstorm so severe it is blowing his nose sideways.

How I Came To Know It: While I grew up with the hits “What is Love?” and “New Song” (and in my foolish youth, hated them) I didn’t really know anything about Howard Jones. This is Sheila’s album, and she only recently bought it in a fit of nostalgia.

How It Stacks Up:  We only have this one Howard Jones album. Sheila advises she will at some point purchase the follow up “Dream Into Action” but that “Human’s Lib” is the better record. Let’s take her word for it.

Fun fact, though: while Jones hasn’t had a charting hit since 1992, he’s made 12 albums including one released in 2015. Somewhere out there is a fan that has stuck with Howard Jones the whole way. I raise a glass to that fan in celebration.

Ratings: 3 stars

Eighties pop music seemed obsessed with sounding like “the future” and the result is a lot of bad records. It is a minor miracle that “Human’s Lib” is able to overcome all of these shortcomings and end up being a decent (if not overwhelming) bit of Brit Pop.

The album is the worst mix of what the eighties have to offer. Saxophone solos, drum machines, banging and clanging are everywhere. While Jones’ voice is OK, it isn’t strong enough to overcome the production and arrangement on many of these songs.

The album has two identifiable hits, both of which are good. The first is “What Is Love?” which is probably the song that people associated most strongly with Howard Jones. I’m certain it was a key reason I hated him as a 14 year old metal-head.

I was wrong, though. Despite the painful drum machine, “What Is Love?” has one of the most identifiable and enjoyable hooks in pop music; two if you count Jones’ singing the chorus alongside the synth-organ riff. It is a little disappointing that the song is a bloated 6:32 in length. That extra two and a half minutes adds nothing to the experience except impatience.

After “What Is Love?” the record takes a bit of a nosedive, with aimless pop melodies buried in computer sounds that sound like they were engineered on a Commodore 64 (and probably were). “Pearl in The Shell” is almost good, except for all the electronica flourishes that make it feel like it is being played by that Poindexter character from “Revenge of the Nerds.” If you got that last reference then congratulations: like me, you’re old enough to remember “Human’s Lib” the year it was released.

“New Song” is another organ-driven pop ditty, which is a strange combination of painfully dated and enjoyably retro. The song is completely drenched in proto-techno and I should hate it, but damn it if it didn’t work for me after all these years. This song is due for a comeback and some Soulless Record Exec should re-release it on radio and make a bundle.

Near the end of the record we are gifted with the alpha and omega of the album. The title track is a great combination of creepy Gothic piano and New Wave edge. It is followed by “China Dance” which sounds like a junior high school band concert about what China might be like, as imagined by people who had never been there.

Thematically the record has a strong focus around not judging others and loving yourself. You can’t always understand what the hell Howard is singing, but when you can that’s the gist of it.

The lyrics aren’t great, and the message feels a bit dated but remember in 1984 not judging people was a pretty foreign concept. I’d like to think it was just me living in the hinterland of B.C., but go throw on any John Hughes’ movie from the eighties and you’ll quickly note the carefree prejudice and homophobia that permeated even our revered pop culture icons only thirty years ago.

So while Howard Jones may seem dated, he was pretty topical for the time and frankly, until we are all taken as we are without a second thought, his message will never go out of style.

I struggled with the rating on this record. Objectively it is a two. Because of the production values I can’t see myself ever playing this album, despite it having some good tracks. I’m still going to give it a three though, because I’m a sucker for a little love and understanding in my art.

Best tracks:  What is Love?, Hide and Seek, New Song, Human’s Lib

CD Odyssey Disc 891: Lindi Ortega

I’m home late after a hard day of thinking and writing and I’ve decided to start my private time doing some…thinking and writing. Hey, I like what I like.

Disc 891 is….Little Red Boots

Artist: Lindi Ortega

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? God damn but Lindi Ortega is a sexy woman. Ordinarily I’d say something clever about the guitar case but this kind of pretty turns me slack-jawed and witless.

How I Came To Know It: I believe I read about Lindi Ortega in a music magazine in 2012 and bought her album, “Cigarettes and Truckstops.” When I found out she had released an album a year earlier I ran out and bought that as well, and here it is.

How It Stacks Up:  We have four Lindi Ortega albums and “Little Red Boots” is among the best, but it still falls just short, coming in at #2.

Ratings: 4 stars

Lindi Ortega is Canada’s best kept secret, and my only regret about “Little Red Boots” is I can’t find her earlier releases. Lindi, if you’re reading then send me the early stuff and I’ll review it without delay!

Ortega’s music is a combination of alt-country, blues and rockabilly and through the years she lets the proportion of these various styles slide around considerably. “Little Red Boots” is the most pure country of the four records I own, but there is still plenty of blues and rockabilly giving it her signature sound.

The album is upbeat and Ortega’s voice, which can be sad or sultry when she wants trends more toward sprightly and joyful here. You’d be wrong to mistake that joy for a lack of depth, however. Ortega is a thoughtful songwriter who mines the depths of her heart and knows how to turn that ore into gold.

The album’s opening track is “Little Lie,” a sassy number about a girl getting to the point after her clueless boyfriend hasn’t managed to pick up on her many hints that she’s just not that into him. The song has a lively jump, and the electric guitar work over the bridge adds the right amount of grease in support of Ortega’s pure vocals.

Every track on the record finds the right balance between tradition and edge, and Ortega is a natural storyteller as she paints emotional vignettes in four minutes or less, with each song as long as it needs to be and often leaving you wanting more.

Ortega’s lyrics can be provocative and a little grimy and the playful vocal curl around the edge of her delivery makes the whole package alluring. Listening to her I think of every girl I met in a bar that I should have left well enough alone, but just couldn’t resist. When you hear her whisper “you’re gonna know me by my little red boots” on the title track you’ll know why. The song had me wanting to write stupid fan mail messages to her. Of course, I didn’t.

The heartbreak on “Angels” and “Dying of Another Broken Heart” show that Ortega also knows what it’s like to lose love, and these songs aren’t afraid to show it all. “Angels” has her drinking herself back to sleep after waking up still sad. On “Dying…” lines like:

“I should hold a funeral for every love I lost

Bury pieces of my heart under the winter frost

And in the spring they’ll be covered in forget-me-nots

I’m dying of another broken heart”

…could easily come across as maudlin, but when you hear Ortega sing them, she’s so flush with emotion that you can’t help but fall under her spell.

Ortega isn’t above talking about hard living, and I wish more women country singers would do the same. “All My Friends” is filled with booze, marijuana and pill use. The song has a heavy guitar reverb and echo that evokes various states of inebriation. It is a harbinger to the sound she will explore more fully on her next record, “Cigarettes and Truckstops.”

Every Lindi Ortega album has to have an obligatory middle finger to anyone who doesn’t like what she’s doing, and on “Little Red Boots” that song is “I’m No Elvis Presley.” It’s a pretty solid rockabilly number that starts with the challenge:

“I did my best to impress

You were not impressed I guess

Oh well, what can you do?

I sing songs and play guitar

That don’t make me a superstar

Oh well, who the hell are you?”

The song is great, and a good question for any soulless record exec (or music blogger for that matter) who puts on airs but doesn’t have the balls to put on the little red boots and do it for themselves.

Sorry, I’m not as brave as you, Lindi, but I appreciate everything you do. That includes this excellent record that I have no doubt will continue to get oodles of play in our house for many years to come.

Best tracks:  Little Lie, When All The Stars Align, Angels, Little Red Boots, Dying of Another Broken Heart, All My Friends, Fall Down or Fly

CD Odyssey Disc 890: Lily Allen

This past weekend is the first in a while that I haven’t bought a new album. I half-heartedly tried to sell one (Liz Phair’s “Juvenilia”), but was coldly rebuffed “High Fidelity” style by the record store owner. That’s fine though, I’m glad to keep it.

Disc 890 is….Alright, Still

Artist: Lily Allen

Year of Release: 2006

What’s up with the Cover? This cover shouldn’t work, but it does. A hodgepodge of images loosely based on the infectious tune about London (“LDN)” that appears on the record. Lily herself looks great, the perfect combination of sass and playful, with a look on her face that lets you know there’s a whole lot going on behind those eyes.

How I Came To Know It: This is one of Sheila’s albums, recommended to her by a friend and former coworker.

How It Stacks Up:  We have two of Lily Allen’s three albums, and I like them both but I think I like “Alright, Still” the best so I’m ranking it #1; a traditional practice when discussing things we like best.

Ratings: 4 stars

You expect an album beginning with a song titled “Smile” to put a smile on your face, and Lily Allen’s “Alright, Still” does not disappoint. This is a fine piece of pop art that defies genres and is delightfully brave and crazy throughout.

Allen is a diminutive Brit with a consistently sharp wit and an occasionally foul mouth, who sings about sex and the life of the single girl in London. It is irresistible pop music, tinged with reggae beats and hip hop flavour. Allen’s greatest skill is her timing which is as sharp as any rapper, but it never comes at the expense of her voice, which is rich and sweet. The combination is an album that makes you tap your feet, lifts your soul and puts a wry smile on your face.

Despite the upbeat feel to the record, there is an undercurrent of a nasty breakup that keeps the record grounded. This is an album full of women scorned and out on the town looking for a drink, a fuck or a fight with equal enthusiasm.

There is no better example of this juxtaposition than the opening track, “Smile” which has an Amy Winehouse hip hop/jazz feel to it that loosens your spine and makes you want to dance and drink a martini. The song’s tune is friendly, but the lyrics are a dismissal of an ex-lover, not a dream for rapprochement. This is a girl that smiles when she imagines her ex having a cry. No self-loathing here; the tears on “Alright, Still” are for the idiots foolish enough to cross the woman with the microphone.

Even more fun is Allen out on the town. “Knock ‘Em Out” is a song about extricating yourself from some loser buying you a drink that you have no interest in. This is a problem I’ve never encountered but I understand is a rampant condition of beautiful women. The song works in a trilling piano and some wanton horn flourishes to add to the carnival environment at is every pick up bar ever.

Equally fun is “Friday Night” but this time rival girls at the club are the target of Allen’s sharp tongue. The song has a sultry bass and funky beat and hilarious lyrics like:

“In the club make our way to the bar

Good dancing love, but you should have worn a bra.”

And my personal favourite dig from a nasty song about an ex called “Not Big” which isn’t content to advertise a man’s shortcomings, without adding what a bore he was in the sack:

“I could see it in your face when you give it to me gentle

Yeah you really must think you’re great

Let’s see how you feel in a couple of weeks

When I work my way through your mates.”

Despite multiple zingers on “Alright, Still” that are just as good as that, they lose something without the infectious melody of the song and Allen’s flawless delivery. Like a good nightclub story, it just doesn’t translate if you don’t experience it yourself.

Near the end of the record the momentum gets a little blunted. “Little Things” is supposed to be more heartfelt, but it was missing the edge of the earlier tracks. “Take What You Want” sounds a lot like a Blur song (I don’t really like Blur) and “Friends of Mine” is a passable reggae song, but I prefer when the record strays into the reggae beat rather than giving itself over to it wholeheartedly. None of these songs are terrible; they just aren’t as incredible as the ones that preceded it. By this point I had so thoroughly fallen for Allen’s charms it didn’t matter.

The record ends with “Alfie”a song about her brother, Alfie Allen (who is most famous for playing Theon Greyjoy on Game of Thrones). This is long before Alfie eclipsed his sister’s fame, and here she takes obvious delight painting him as a couch-surfing dope-smoking slacker. The love here shines through, though, and the song shows Allen at her most playful. Most of the record to this point is a delightful load of nasty, coated in chocolate and sugar to make it go down easier. With her brother she takes the edge off.

This record may be a bit nasty, but that just makes it more delicious. It is also brimming over with top-notch pop hooks and melodies.  On my walk home today the sky was overcast, but listening to “Alright, Still” I felt as bathed in sunshine as Katrina and the Waves.

Best tracks:  Smile, Knock ‘Em Out, LDN, Not Big, Friday Night, Alfie

CD Odyssey Disc 889: Dropkick Murphys

Through a strange coincidence I was listening to this album on a weekend walk home while wearing a band t-shirt. I had also had a couple of pints, which I imagine is exactly how the Dropkick Murphys want their music enjoyed.

Disc 889 is….Blackout

Artist: Dropkick Murphys

Year of Release: 2003

What’s up with the Cover? Some very bad photoshopping. This cover is likely intended to capture the visceral energy of the Murphys but instead it looks like the cover of some guy’s homemade mixed compilation. Actually, scratch that. I do homemade song compilations all the time and my covers are always better than this.

How I Came To Know It: This was just me buying another Dropkick Murphys album after I discovered them and started mining their back catalogue. I believe this was the third Murphys album I got, after “Sing Loud, Sing Proud” and “The Gang’s All Here” (reviewed back at Disc 704).

How It Stacks Up:  I have seven Dropkick Murphys albums, which isn’t all of them, but it’s close. Of the seven, “Blackout” is the best.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Listening to “Blackout” always makes me want to see the Dropkick Murphys live. Their raw energy oozes out of this record, angry and triumphant Celtic rock with a punk edge that makes you want to stand up and throw your first in the air.

“Blackout” is the Murphys best-produced album, which might make punk purists cringe. Since the Murphys aren’t strictly punk and I’m not a punk purist, I appreciated the production a lot. There is just no good reason why you should deliberately make your record sound worse than it has to.

Despite the great production the visceral quality of the Murphys shines through. They make you feel like they are throwing a private show in your basement with all your buddies over and despite all the emotion and excitement and the clinking of glasses somehow the sound is still absolutely fucking perfect.

The chord progressions are all pretty standard, but there is a reason 4-5-1 chord progressions are so common; because they sound great.

The Murphys sing about partying hard and fighting injustice and they do both with equal gusto.

The album begins with “Walk Away,” a powerhouse track about a man abandoning his family when things get tough. The track is a hard topic, and the Murphys take no prisoners here, or at any other point on the album.

There are many hard-rocking tracks, among them “The Outcast,” “Buried Alive” and “As One”. There are also more traditional Celtic tracks where the production is stripped down and more narrative (“World Full of Hate”, “The Dirty Glass” and “Fields of Athenry” which are just as awesome, only different.

Soft or hard, all the songs benefit from Al Barr’s signature angry but melodic voice that sounds like a cross between Johnny Rotten and the Corries. They also benefit from some amazing bagpipe playing. The bagpipes are a tough instrument to work into the mix of any pop song, but the Murphys have always been masters of it.  Here they are played by the very capable Spicy McHaggis. This would be Spicy’s last album with the Murphys, after which he is replaced by Scruffy Wallace. I assume in order to play the pipes for the Murphys your first name has to be an adjective. But I digress…

Back to this record, which has very few weak points. “Buried Alive” is a heartbreaking tale of a mining disaster, and “Worker’s Song” always pulls at my blue collar roots, as it reminds us of the many (often anonymous) sacrifices the working class has made over the centuries.

“Worker’s Song” is originally a folk song by Ed Pickford, rocked up by the Murphys as only they can do. They give similar treatments to the traditional “Black Velvet Band” and a seventies folk song by Pete St. John called “Fields of Athenry.” This latter song is about a man imprisoned for stealing food during the Irish famine. It is heartbreaking and in the hands of the Murphys more than a little angry as well. It is very hard to enjoy the Pete St. John original once you’ve heard the Murphys fill it with electric guitar, glorious unison singing and (of course) bagpipes.

“The Dirty Glass” is a great duet between a drunk and (I think) his bar which owes a lot to the Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York” but still manages to be fresh and new. Like “Fairytale…” it is a song that is good fun on the surface, and tragic underneath.

The final song on the album is the hilarious (and not at all tragic) “Kiss Me, I’m Shitfaced,” a song about all the dumb things you’ll say and do while trying to impress a girl after having one too many pints. Lines like this:

“I can bench-press a car, I’m an ex-football star

With degrees from both Harvard and Yale

Girls just can’t keep up, I’m a real love machine

I’ve had far better sex while in jail”

Aren’t likely to get you laid, but damn they’re funny.

Even more important, this album features the song “Time To Go” which is about my favourite hockey team, the Boston Bruins! With a chorus of “Go go, black and gold!” it is hard not to fall hard for this record honouring the greatest hockey franchise of all time (yeah, you read that right – get your own blog if you disagree).

The boys pay homage in the song to the subway line you take to get to the stadium and also to the Bruins’ long time anthem singer, Rene Rancourt. It is all around good fun, at least for me. This song used to play on my EA Sports video game and I loved hearing it as the Bruins won the virtual cup. When we won the real one in 2011, I played it again. For that alone, this album will always be #1.

Best tracks:  Worker’s Song, The Outcast, World Full of Hate, Buried Alive, The Dirty Glass, Fields of Athenry, Bastards on Parade, As One, Time To Go, Kiss Me I’m Shitfaced

CD Odyssey Disc 888: Liz Phair

Sometimes deciding if I’m going to keep an album or sell it is a complex set of variables. This is one of those times.

Disc 888 is….Juvenilia

Artist: Liz Phair

Year of Release: 1995

What’s up with the Cover? Liz does karate in high heeled sandals. This cover looks half-finished, which is kind of how this record feels.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve liked Liz Phair for years and wasn’t even aware of this EP until about ten years ago. I bought it on a whim, since it came out during my favourite part of Phair’s career.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Liz Phair albums. While at 8 songs and 30 minutes playing time this one is more of an EP, I’ll rank it anyway. It lands fifth (or last) place. They can’t all be winners, kids.

Ratings: 2 stars

Sometimes an EP can deliver some undiscovered gems of an artist’s early career. For example, the re-issue of the Byrd’s “Sweethearts of the Rodeo” features six bonus tracks of Gram Parsons’ previous band “The International Submarine Band” and these are great.

Other times an EP of early stuff can feel like an awkward amalgam of ideas that aren’t fully formed, by an artist that will one day be great but isn’t quite there yet. Unfortunately, this is how “Juvenilia” felt for me.

The best song on the record is the opening track, “Jealousy.” This song does a great job of capturing the manic rage of people consumed with jealousy. The rhythm rushes forward, flustered and grim and in a hurry to throw accusations before Liz even starts singing. It is a great song, but it is also available on 1994’s “Whip Smart” which I already have so we’ll call that a draw.

The second best song is “Turning Japanese,” which is a pretty great cover of the 1980 song of the same name by one-hit wonder The Vapors. Liz’s version has great energy and with its rock edge appeals to me more than the original. Is this cover enough for me to keep the album? Maybe…

Most of the record is composed of songs that Phair originally recorded in 1991 under the name “Girly Sound.” Most of these are pretty forgettable. “California” is a solid hook surrounded by Liz telling what is now a very old joke about cows. It is passable on the first listen and then it quickly becomes like any joke some drunk uncle tells you too many times at a backyard family barbecue. If it is a particularly bad uncle, there will be told too many times at a single barbecue, each time with a bit more drunk in the delivery.

Three more songs (“Batmobile,” “Dead Shark” and “Easy” are all lo-fi dirges which sound a lot like other Liz Phair songs, except not as good. There is one good track from the Girly Sound days, but more on that later.

The only original song on this album is “Animal Girl” and it is depressing even by Liz Phair standards. It features her characteristic minor key and flat delivery but it is a bit too emotionally hollow, even for her. The song has pretty bones, but it is one that needs to be surrounded by other catchier tracks, like it would be on one of her many amazing full length records. Here it just lays flat and sad, with no fury to punctuate the sadness.

So it all comes down to the best “Girly Sound” song on the record, “South Dakota” to break the tie on whether I should keep this record. Think of it as a presidential election where South Dakota’s 24 electoral college votes will make the difference.

“South Dakota” has Phair’s signature sparse but echoing production value, and the whole thing is a single guitar strumming away as Liz sings her lascivious heart out, occasionally punctuating a verse with an explosive “Huh! Huh!” of air from deep in her lungs. The song also has Beck-quality imagery with bizarre lines like:

“Masons and lumberchucks

As God is my squirrel”

That somehow make sense when Liz sings it, even though I’m not sure how.

So “South Dakota” should deliver this album safely back to its seat on my CD shelf, but I’m going to withhold judgment and see what it is worth at the local record store. If I can get a few albums I like better in return, maybe it is worth voting ‘no’ after all.

Best tracks:  Jealousy, Turning Japanese, South Dakota

CD Odyssey Disc 887: Bonnie Prince Billy

This next album was delayed because it was one of those records that had to seep slowly into my bones over repeat listens. Like a well-marinated steak, it was worth the wait.

Disc 887 is….Greatest Palace Music

Artist: Bonnie Prince Billy

Year of Release: 2004 but featuring songs originally recorded 1993-1997

What’s up with the Cover? And then the Crayon Giant barfed on the mountain, and there were many deaths. I’m not saying I hate this cover, but the best part is the font.

How I Came To Know It: A few years back my friend Josh introduced me to the song “West Palm Beach” while teaching me guitar. I never got very good at playing that song, but I liked it, and I also knew about the Johnny Cash cover of Bonnie Prince Billy’s “I See A Darkness” so I sought out more of his stuff.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Bonnie Prince Billy albums including this one. I’m not sure I should stack this one up, though. On the one hand it is all music from earlier albums in his career, and so represents a “best of” (which don’t get ranked). On the other hand, the recordings are quite different from the original, and so you could argue it is an original record. However, Gordon Lightfoot re-recorded songs for his two “Gord’s Gold” albums and I didn’t rank them, so I’m going to stick with that decision. No stacking for a compilation album, even if you reimagine the songs.

Ratings: “Best Of” albums don’t get a rating, but I did like this record a lot.

When I first delved into the early music of Bonnie Prince Billy (aka Will Oldham) it was under his other pseudonym of Palace Brothers. At the time I was disappointed. My previously limited exposure to Billy was positive (see above) but despite this, the work of the Palace Brothers fell flat. I could tell the songs were objectively good, but they didn't inspire me. I dabbled briefly before moving on to his later work, nary a purchase made.

Fortunately what I moved on to was his rerecorded versions of some of those early songs on “Greatest Palace Music.” All those songs that went in one ear and out the other became fascinating and layered works of beauty with their new treatment and production. Presentation matters.

In this case that presentation is a folksy country/folk crossover, heavy on piano, moderate on the guitar and flourishes of horn where they are called for and (for the most part) omitted when they’re not.

Early on the album feels very much like a greatest hits record, with the first five tracks the best five on the album.

The opening track, “New Partner” is a brave choice for an opening, with its slow tempo, and regret-filled piano. Oldham’s chorus calls to his new partner, but the song is about a lost love, not the new one. The song’s final stanza captures the awkwardness of it all with a poetic grace that permeates the entire album:

“Now the sun's fading faster, we're ready to go

There's a skirt in the bedroom that's pleasantly low

And the loons on the moor, the fish in the flow

And my friends, my friends still will whisper hello

We all know what we know, it's a hard swath to mow

When you think like a hermit you forget what you know”

Oldham’s high and deeply evocative voice is perfectly matched to this particular brand of cerebral heartache. He is the equal of other creepy but delightfully self-examined poets like Leonard Cohen and Nick Cave.

The second song, “Ohio River Boat Song” is what I would’ve gone with to open the record; a traditional country swing in it that could be a hit in Nashville if it weren’t so damned thoughtful. Too easy a choice for the Bonnie Prince, I suppose.

The best song on the record is “Gulf Shores” which has such a sublime piano piece holding it up. Oldham is the master of taking a fairly straightforward chord progression and throwing in odd notes that seem momentarily out of place, but then artfully resolve. Jazz wishes it could be this creative and yet still enjoyable to listen to. Lyrically, I can’t think of a song that evokes deeper emotion and backstory which is ostensibly about just sitting on the beach.

On “You Will Miss Me When I Burn” Oldham sings the sad refrain “when you have no one/no one can hurt you” as the piano matches his resigned and beautifully lonely vocal delivery. “The Brute Choir” rounds out the fab five start, returning to powerful Cohen-esque moment with piano that soars triumphantly even as Oldham’s sweet and high vocals beg for an end to it all.

Unfortunately, the album is a tad long at 58 minutes, and the latter two-thirds of the record don’t hold up the same energy as its start. Maybe I’m just emotionally exhausted by the time I’m 20 minutes in, but I think it is hard to match those first few songs.

Nothing is terrible, but there were disappointments. “I Send My Love to You” features a silly sound effect of a duck quacking, and “No More Workhorse Blues” gets emotionally powerful, but it waits too long to do so.

“Agnes, Queen of Sorrows” is a strong duet with Marty Slayton about a couple with a relationship on the rocks. It features the great refrain of “If you wait another day/I will wait another day.” Doesn’t sound like much, but it is the straw these two hold onto. In the hands of master songwriter Oldham that straw becomes a whole world.

The album ends with “I Am A Cinematographer” which feels a bit hokey, and isn’t helped by five minutes of dead air tagged onto the end of the record. Please stop doing this people. It might feel like artistic expression to you but it amounts to little more than a prank on your listeners.

Like most Bonnie Prince Billy records, “Greatest Palace Music” takes time and patience to fully understand, but the time spent will be worth it in the end. Few artists have Will Oldham’s talent for painting a scene with the art of the word, and then also knowing just what tune to bring that imagery to life.

Best tracks:  New Partner, Ohio River Boat Song, Gulf Shores, You Will Miss Me When I Burn, The Brute Choir, Agnes Queen of Sorrows, West Palm Beach

CD Odyssey Disc 886: The Smalls

Happy Friday! I’ve had a day full of chores, and I’m feeling a bit knackered. I also had some fun though, buying some new music for my collection (and eventual review), watching some Wimbledon and eating lunch at my favourite taco joint. Life is good.

Disc 886 is….My Dear Little Angle

Artist: The Smalls

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? A drawing of what I assume are cultists heralding the rise of Rlyeh. Or just a bunch of people in robes. The art is by someone named Ursus from Vancouver and the CD booklet is full of more of his art, all of which I really like. Most of the other paintings are of people in elegant clothing sitting or standing near chairs. It’s better than it sounds.

The cover also features the Smalls’ logo, which is one of the worst band logos ever, and a big reason why I own this album. Speaking of which…

How I Came To Know It: A couple years ago I went to a Smalls reunion concert (I think my friend Cat put me on to them – hearing Corb Lund was their bassist made it easier). I was chilling at the merch table and didn’t like any of the t-shirts (they all had the aforementioned logo) so on the advice of some drunken fans I bought not one, but all four Smalls albums. Speaking of which…

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Smalls albums, which is all of them. Of the four, “My Dear Little Angle” is tied for second with their self-titled album.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

The Smalls is one of those bands with a small but dedicated following, even years after they disbanded. “My Dear Little Angle” is the last record they would make, and it is a strong exit.

The Smalls are a hard rockin’ band characterized by driving guitar riffs and the haunting and tortured vocals of Mike Caldwell. All their albums have a Seattle grunge feel to them, but with a much more stripped down punk edge.

While possessing all these qualities, “My Dear Little Angle” also has the most range of any Smalls album, and even has a few country touches around the edges. This isn’t surprising since by 1999 bassist Corb Lund already had one foot firmly in that world, and was fixing to complete the transition (country artists “fix” to do things). In fact, one of the tracks on the album is “My Saddle Horse Has Died” which Lund would go on to countrify for his 2007 album “Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier!”

The album starts off with furious power with the title track, a swampy song that chugs along with a brooding intensity that is hard to resist. I didn’t bother, and when it came on I found my head bobbing uncontrollably, regardless of how many people were watching. This is music that comes from the balls, and also grabs you by them.

The power keeps coming with “Murdering Me” which is more Seattle grunge sound, a little more slightly than the title track, but still tracking muddy boot prints across the inside of your skull. Caldwell’s accusatory vocals as he demands to know “why are you murdering me?” feels threatening and pleading in equal measure.

For the most part all the songs on the record are mood pieces, designed to get into your spine and make you thrash about, with lyrics that are secondary to the tone the music sets in your heart. Is it all a bit oppressive? Yes, delightfully so.

There are other influences on the album as well. “VCR” is a bluesy number that was reminiscent of the Tragically Hip and the band even does a cover of Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman” without a hint of irony or humour. A lot of earlier Smalls albums are pure rock experiences, and I enjoyed how “My Dear Little Angle” branched out, and yet never felt disjointed.

The album has two strong tracks near the end, with the angry and self-destructive “Tell Us About It” and a weird sixties guitar track crossed with a country song on “What I Need.” Both tracks are innovative and fun to listen to, and would have been a fine end to the record.

In fact, given all these good tracks, stylistic range and the superior production, this record should have put it solidly as the band’s second best album if it weren’t for one cardinal sin; the dead air track.

The final track on the album is “Ride On Through,” a meandering jazz track that fades out after three minutes, then has 18 minutes of dead air, followed by a stoner version of “My Saddle Horse Has Died” and then a sped up version of the title track that sounds like a 33 album played on 45. That kind of shit is fun to do at home when you’re 8 years old, but it doesn’t belong on a record.

I listened to all 18 minutes just so I could get good and angry, and boy did I get angry. Enough to knock this otherwise excellent record down to three stars. It is still worth owning, but if you haven’t made some weird promise on a blog to give it a full listen, do yourself a favour and turn it off after track 13.

Best tracks:  My Dear Little Angle, Murdering Me, PIN, Tell Us About It, What I Need To Carry On

CD Odyssey Disc 885: Green Day

Despite being almost 900 reviews in, I have yet to formally review even one of my six Green Day albums. Right around the time I first started the blog in 2009 I was listening to “21^st Century Breakdown” and wrote an off-the-cuff review but it was before I officially started this crazy journey so it doesn’t really count.

Anyway, practice time is over – here we go.

Disc 885 is….Warning

Artist: Green Day

Year of Release: 2000

What’s up with the Cover? The band walks around looking for trouble. Billie Joe might actually be looking for loose change, based on his posture.

How I Came To Know It: I saw a music video for the song “Minority”. I hadn’t given the band much thought over the years, but I liked their sound, and I liked their new song enough that I took a chance on my first Green Day album.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Green Day albums. I like them all, but “Minority” will always hold a special place in my heart as my first. Good enough to be #1? Probably not, but it might end up there by the end. For now, since it is the first skater to finish the long program, I’ll put it second and give another record a chance to beat it out.

Ratings: 4 stars

I always feel that “Warning” gets short shrift among Green Day albums, sandwiched as it is between 1997’s “Nimrod” which has their most famous song (“Good Riddance”) and the critical and commercial success of 2004’s “American Idiot.” For all that I love this record, which has a lot of songs that should’ve been classics, and few – if any – clunkers.

The trademark power and energy of a Green Day album is in full display, but this album definitely strays more into a mainstream pop sound than what came before and after. If you want Green Day to be a punk band (they’re not) this would have disappointed you. I just want a band to play good music, and “Warning” more than qualifies.

Long-time readers will know my penchant for sparser production decisions, and “Warning” is the sparsest of the six Green Day albums in my collection. The band has always had great melodies and “Warning” lets those shine. Also, Tre Cool’s drumming is solid and powerful, giving every song the thump it needs.

The album also has a Celtic edge to it which had me thinking of the Dropkick Murphys in places, particularly songs like “Hold On” and “Macy’s Day Parade,” which are two of my favourites. Make no mistake though, this record remains a rock record, and Billie Joe’s vocals are as tough and scratchy as ever. If you can hear these songs played equally well on banjo or mandolin that just means they have solid ‘bones’ to their structure. Good songs work in any genre.

The opening (and title) track gets things going with a nice rolling chord progression that never really sits down. If ever a song walked you down the road, this is it, as the boys deliver at least one punk sensibility: questioning authority.

The album then gets a bit heavier, with pounding rock anthems “Blood, Sex and Booze” and “Church on Sunday” which respectively woo a dominatrix and a church girl, albeit with notably different approaches.

“Castaway” and “Deadbeat Holiday” are two of the record’s stronger tracks, which both rock hard with hooks that seem so effortless it is like the songs have been around forever. “Castaway” has a throwback feel to seventies punk (without ever truly being punk) and “Deadbeat Holiday” is an anthem for doing very little and reveling in the indolence of it all. The juxtaposition of the song’s celebratory tune and the angry resignation of the lyrics work well.

If it seems I’m a bit too taken with this record, I can only say a big part of music is when you encounter it. This album came into my life when I was 30 and not sure about what I wanted out of life (spoiler: I’m still not sure, but it bothers me less these days). I had dyed my hair blonde, bought a convertible and changed jobs and was generally feeling rebellious.

Against that backdrop, the rock anthem “Minority” really hit home, with its theme of iconoclasm and individuality. It didn’t hurt that it had a kick ass guitar tag starting it off, and a tune that was full of energy and easy to sing along to.

The album ends with the anti-consumerism song, “Macy’s Day Parade.” On a record that doesn’t get enough street cred, “Macy’s Day Parade” is the song that is treated the worst. Driven by a basic acoustic guitar strum it shows off Billie Joe’s vocals beautifully. If “Good Riddance” is Green Day’s classic break-up song with a girl, then “Macy’s Day Parade” is their classic break up song with everything else. At least this song should’ve been a classic, and I like to think that out there in the world there are other Green Day fans who enjoy it as a deep cut as much as I do.

“Warning” is a solid record, and if it isn’t as hard hitting as much of Green Day’s other work, it is no less solid musically, and maybe even a little more heartfelt along the way.

Best tracks:  Warning, Castaway, Deadbeat Holiday, Hold On, Minority, Macy’s Day Parade

CD Odyssey Disc 884: The Killers

I skipped the gym tonight but I did wax my car and clean the interior, so that was at least a bit of a workout. I always think of the Karate Kid when I wax my car. That was an inspiring movie when I was a kid – I even tried Kung Fu for a week as a teenager (I was terrible at it). Years later I tried fencing and was much better. Martial arts are way easier when they give you a sword.

But I digress. It’s time to get on with the next review. That way I won’t have to listen to the album again tomorrow.

Disc 884 is….Hot Fuss

Artist: The Killers

Year of Release: 2004

What’s up with the Cover? Some buildings. Based on the characters on top of them, I presume they are somewhere in Asia. I tried hard to find this cover interesting, but it just wasn’t happening.

How I Came To Know It: This album belongs to Sheila who likes the Killers. I’m not as keen.

How It Stacks Up:  We have three albums by the Killers. I’m going to be positive and assume that “Hot Fuss” is the worst of them, making it…third.

Ratings: 2 stars

I admit I enjoy beating up on the Killers. Not with the same zeal I take in hating bands like Nickelback or Duran Duran, but still, I admit I don’t like this band, and I enjoy telling people about it.

Some bands are held responsible (rightly or wrongly) for a run of bad music they inspire in their creative wake. Green Day is blamed for pop-punk, and Pearl Jam is blamed for the throat vocals of knock-off bands like Creed. Both claims are likely true, but the difference between those bands and the Killers is I actually like those bands.

In the case of the Killers, they were the vanguard of a decade of new top forty radio music. The things they do have reverberated through the ages, and created what feels like a whole new genre of pop music.

And what exactly is that Killers sound? It starts with busy production, which sounds like it was recorded in a studio made out of old trash cans. The music is busy and dense with a soup of noise, and the instruments are banged away on with a frantic energy that makes you think it is the work of a hyperactive child on the edge of launching into a serious tantrum.

Of all the instruments, vocalist Brandon Flowers bothers me the least. He can sing and at least he sounds distinctive. As I noted on my review of “Day & Age” (back at Disc 734) I admire Flowers’ range and the power he manages while singing in a high register. The songs lack much in the way of emotional impact, but that is more the songs than Flowers’ voice. He did write or co-write all the songs, though, so we can at least blame him for that.

By their third album, the band has settled down and learned to trust the melody but here it is all about a desperate attempt to create energy, even if it isn’t the good kind.

It isn’t all bad, though. Most of the songs are just meh as opposed to offensive, and I actually like one of the hits (“Somebody Told Me”). It has a solid energy and a bit of a ‘too drunk at the party’ kind of feel, which is fun on a summer walk home.

I almost liked “All These things That I’ve Done” and it might have held me if it hadn’t gone for the oft-repeated but not very clever phrase “I got soul but I’m not a soldier.” The third big hit, “Mr. Brightside” annoyed me when it first came out with all its pointless clash and clangor. 10,000 forced listens in pubs, coffee shops, and mall bathrooms for the past dozen years has not made me like it any better.

“Everything Will Be Alright” isn’t a hit, but it is almost six minutes of meandering thumping, bumping and groaning. At least it was accurate, in that it was the last song on the record, so in a way the title ended up being true; it signified that I’d survived this less-than-pleasant port of call on the CD Odyssey.

Best tracks:  Somebody Told Me

CD Odyssey Disc 883: Neil Young

I’ve rolled three Neil Young albums in my last 33 reviews, which isn’t exactly a pattern, but is a little peculiar. This noteworthy moment is for you, Neil.

Disc 883 is….Comes A Time

Artist: Neil Young

Year of Release: 1978

What’s up with the Cover? There is not a lot going on in this cover, but it has a relaxed old timey feel to it that suits the record well.

How I Came To Know It: I recently added a few Neil Young albums to my collection to fill out some gaps, and this was one of them.

How It Stacks Up:  Having recently parted ways with two Neil Young albums, I am now down to 18 again. “Comes A Time” was easily the best of my recent purchases. I found it 8^th best, bumping “Harvest Moon” down one spot in the process.

Ratings: 4 stars

After reviewing a couple disappointing Neil Young albums “Comes A Time” was a refreshing balm, and a reminder of what a great artist he is.

Young can be an angry urban rocker, with a guitar squawking protest, but “Comes A Time” shows his other side: a thoughtful poet looking for a little love and understanding. I like both incarnations, but floating along on the easy guitar strum and airy vocals of this record, it is hard not to vote for folk.

This record has a lot of love suffused through it, and the songs have a zen-like quality that leave you feeling like things are going to be alright. The title track is a wonderful observation on getting a little older and learning to take things as they come. As Neil notes in the chorus:

“This old world keeps spinnin’ ‘round

It’s a wonder tall trees ain’t layin’ down

There comes a time.”

Despite the ominous thought of how fast the earth spins (over 1,000 miles an hour, by the way) Neil finds the concept so relaxing he can’t even bring himself to pronounce his ‘g’s. That quality of acceptance and grace wends its way through the record. I felt some of the creases in my forehead disappearing just listening to it.

There are plenty of instruments at work on the record, including a whole string section but for the most part, acoustic guitar drives the record, alternating between a light strum and some picking where it is called for to better pull out the melody. A little piano also interjects at just the right time, particularly the start of “Lotta Love” the only song where Neil is joined by his band Crazy Horse. Crazy Horse usually brings out the crazy in Neil, but here they are tastefully restrained, fitting a pinch of edgy into the mid-point of the record, right where it is needed.

My favourite song on the record is “Human Highway” which is one of the sadder moments on a fairly upbeat record overall:

“I come down from the misty mountain

I got lost on the human highway

Take my head refreshing fountain

Take my eyes from what they’ve seen

Take my head and change my mind

How could people get so unkind.”

The record has such a forgiving quality, that Neil just sounds hurt here, like he can’t believe people still do bad things to one another. The song is punctuated by a hint of banjo which provides the musical question mark to Neil’s lyrics (I left the actual question mark off because that’s how the liner notes printed it, but it was painful to do so).

The one quibble I have with the record is “Field of Opportunity” which explores similar themes to the other tracks, but strays into a country yokel quality that might have worked in 1978 but hasn’t aged well. Also the refrain “in the field of opportunity/it’s plowin’ time again” has the feel of a phrase that should have been left on the studio floor, but that Neil just couldn’t resist its cleverness.

With its bluesy groove, “Motorcycle Mama” is an odd fit for the record, but it is a good enough song to pull it off.  It would have been even better with a little Crazy Horse, but in their absence guest singer Nicolette Larson delivers some wild and throaty vocals on alternating verses which adds the necessary edge.

The record ends with a cover of Ian Tyson’s “Four Strong Winds.” “Four Strong Winds” is one of the greatest folk songs of all time, and Neil’s reverence for it comes across well. I actually prefer this version to the original (sorry, Ian). It is fine end-point to a fine record that deserves more credit than it gets within Neil Young’s body of work.

Best tracks:  Goin Back, Comes A Time, Lotta Love, Human Highway, Four Strong Winds