CD Odyssey Disc 1077: The Creepshow

I’m going for a tattoo consultation tomorrow so it’s only fitting that this is the second album in a row featuring artists with a lot of ink.

Disc 1077 is…They All Fall Down

Artist: The Creepshow

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover? Lead singer Sarah “Sin” Blackwood plows a lug right in the kisser in an underground fight scene right outta the fifties.

How I Came To Know It: I went to buy their most recent release “Death at My Door” at my local record store in anticipation of their upcoming concert (album and show were both reviewed back at Disc 1065) but they didn’t have it in stock. They had this one though, which was also on my list.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Creepshow albums, this one and the aforementioned “Death at My Door”. Of the two, I give the edge to “They All Fall Down”.

Ratings: 3 stars

When you make a record you have to be mindful of first and last impressions – they’re important. “They All Fall Down” makes major missteps on both counts but the quality of what’s in the middle makes the record a fun ride nonetheless.

Creepshow is a psychobilly band, which mixes punk, rockabilly and horror themes. It is highly theatrical stuff (even on the studio recording) and it’s important that the lead singer has the charisma to pull it off. This is Creepshow’s first album featuring Sarah Blackwood, replacing sister Jen. Like her sister, Sarah Blackwood has a great combination of stage presence and big vocals. In psychobilly range isn’t what’s important, it’s tone, power and delivery and Sarah has it all.

The band is solid, with Sean McNab’s big standup base holding down the jump-swing rhythm that can wreck this music if done poorly, but is what makes the magic when done right. The whole band does a good job of staying in the pocket and making you want to jump around or sway your hips, depending on the tempo of the moment.

I like that psychobilly features horror-themed lyrics. They work in the basic rock and roll themes of love, rebellion and road trips but the metaphors they use to explore those themes tend to be loaded with blood and murder. Horror is a great genre to explore the extreme, and in doing so show some common aspects of human nature in a new light. It’s an underrated artistic medium.

Here you have lost love interpreted as murder (“Sleep Tight”) and road trips associated with being damned to hell (“Hellbound”) and it makes it a fun and fanciful journey. Not actual murder and damnation, obviously – it is just pretend.

“Sleep Tight” is my favourite, a song in a fifties or early sixties crooner style, suitable for slow dancing with your gal at the local dance hall under the watchful gaze of some fusty old chaperones. Hopefully the chaperones don’t listen to the lyrics, though, since this song is about a guy who murders his girlfriend and buries her under the floor. She gets her revenge by haunting him for eternity. Sarah Blackwood is a delightful combination of romantic and creepy as she sings:

“Oh sleep tight my boy

You shoulda thought it out

Oh you can’t kill a girl without her soul stickin’ around

Oh sleep tight my boy, I’ll be watching you…

With undead eyes.”

“Hellbound” is a glorious Dropkick-Murphy sing-a-long, which acknowledges you might be trapped for days in a smelly van with your band mates, but don’t forget how much fun you’re having doing what you love. I’m always happy when the young realize how great it is to be young.

While these songs stand out a lot of the others have a very similar feel that takes away a lot of dynamics of the band. If you like the Creepshow’s signature sound it is a good thing, because you are going to get a lot of it. I think it is a good time, but the record is a little short (I guess that is the punk influence) and after two days of it I felt I’d heard them a few too many times. That isn’t how great music is supposed to work, although I can’t point to specific songs that annoyed me. They are all solid, even if they don’t all rate “best tracks” status.

The real issue with this record is the intro and outro. The intro is a short spoken word poem delivered in a way that makes you realize the poet thinks they are way more clever than they are. Titled “The Sermon III” (because earlier albums also begin with sermons) hearing it once was once too often, and it doesn’t add anything to the record’s ambience or thematic approach.

Worse is the last track, “Road to Nowhere.” If only the song had been a road to nowhere. Instead after five minutes of dead air it starts up again with a “hidden recording” featuring a very bad prank call to a record company. The band obviously thinks they are the second coming of the Jerky Boys here, but they just come off as jerks. I’m hoping there is some backstory to this call that makes this more hilarious, but since I didn’t know that backstory, I just found it annoying.

Despite this, I think there is enough solid content on “They All Fall Down” to warrant three stars. It’s a fun record with good energy and tongue-in-cheek humour that – when they stick to singing – typically finds the mark.

Best tracks: Last Chance, Sleep Tight, Hellbound

CD Odyssey Disc 1076: Frank Turner

Another long day but I’m home now, and it feels good. I could watch the end of the football game, but instead I’m going to write this blog while I’ve still got some creative energy in the tank.

Disc 1076 is…Tape Deck Heart

Artist: Frank Turner

Year of Release: 2013

What’s up with the Cover? An artist’s literal interpretation of a tape deck heart. This looks a lot like a tattoo design, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Frank has this tattooed on him somewhere. As album covers go, this is top notch, except of course for Tipper Gore’s parental advisory, wrecking the symmetry of the art all so that the moms of America will know that Frank says “fuck” from time to time on the album.

How I Came To Know It: I came relatively late to Frank Turner, with “Tape Deck Heart” being the first album that I heard. I believe my friend Casey played a couple of songs off of here for me and I was hooked.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Frank Turner albums. Of those six, “Tape Deck Heart” comes in at #1.

Ratings: 5 stars

Frank Turner albums don’t just speak to your soul; they whisper comforting words to it to let you know everything is going to work out. “Tape Deck Heart” has Frank working his usual magic, reinforced with some of his strongest songwriting and arrangements that are crisp and confident.

No one writes an inspirational anthem like Frank Turner. These are songs that empower you and demand you sing along, lifting you up on their powerful messages of reflection, rebellion and redemption. Unlike so many radio friendly pop songs that try to do the same, Frank’s brand of inspiration is never giddy and vacuous or vague. These anthems are inspirational because they represent confronting and overcoming real issues, and real challenges.

Depression, lost love, and substance abuse all feature prominently and you get the distinct impression that Frank sings what he knows. On “Tell Tale Signs” he compares the memory of a damaging relationship with cutting and self-harm. It is a raw and emotionally real song from its stark opening of “God damn it, Amy/we’re not kids anymore” through Frank’s comparison of the memory of the girl he knew, described as “a beautiful butterfly burned with a branding iron.” The memory of her is like the scars on his arms, always there, sometimes painful and strangely comforting.

Turner’s willingness to confront his fears creates an instant rapport in the listener. On “Plain Sailing Weather” he sings “give me one fine day of plain sailing weather and I can fuck up anything.” It is a relatable moment for anyone who ever had a dumb moment and is in the middle of slamming their head into their palm. You may not have Frank’s specific demons, but you’ve got some kind of demons, and it is just nice to hear someone sing so openly about theirs.

For all the sadness, at his heart Turner is an optimist and understands that even bad memories serve a useful purpose. “Recovery” is a song about screwing up a relationship, but it is also a lesson on how to grow and learn from loss. “The Way I Tend To Be” is Turner admitting he can be a schmuck, but how it makes him appreciate a love that “can save me from the way I tend to be”.

Frank Turner albums are often about the lyrics and message, and he wisely keeps the melodies basic so you can focus on them. The backdrop is a smartly organized blend of pop, folk and punk. “Tape Deck Heart” has a bit more production than earlier records, but Turner wisely leaves lots of room for the songs to breathe, punctuating his four minute jolts of wisdom with a flourish of piano or mandolin as the occasion demands.

And of all Turner’s albums, “Tape Deck Heart” has songs that are the most consistently catchy. Listening to this record I can’t understand why he isn’t more famous. Maybe people just like their pop with a little less pain.

My only issue with this album is that it is too long, clocking in with 16 songs and 62 minutes, including four ‘bonus’ tracks. I’d be tempted to cut those four songs, but they are some of the best on the album. “We Shall Not Overcome” has a chorus that feels like the theme song of my life:

“The bands I like they don’t sell too many records

And the girls I like they don’t kiss too many boys

And the books I read will never be bestsellers

Yeah, but come on fellas at least we made our choice.”

Turner understands that his army of counter-culture iconoclasts need a sense of belonging too –often achieved when standing united and proud behind our obscure bands and books.

Mostly though, Frank is about accepting that bad things happen to good people, but the human spirit has an incredible propensity to overcome. The lessons we learn along the way are part of the celebration, even if they hurt at the time. On tattoos he sings “if we had the luck to live our lives a second time through/we’d be sure to get the same tattoos”.

Despite all this excellence I was going to downgrade Frank to four stars for breaking my 14 song rule. Then I read this quote on the Wikipedia entry for the album:

“Track listing an album is a fine art, and usually a pretty agonising process. I’m glad I've had the opportunity to do the extended version for this one – all these songs belong together. That said, I think an album is a piece of art in its own right and can be too long, so it’s worth making the twelve-track definitive version. Choosing what makes it and what doesn’t is agonising, though.”

Damn you, Frank, you managed to be unflinchingly honesty about even your decision to put too many songs on the album. I just can’t stay mad at you over it when you put it like that. Five stars it is, given with love from the depths of my compact disc heart.

Best tracks: All tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1075: Opeth

Every year at this time I take a couple of days off to watch football on US Thanksgiving and recharge my batteries for the home stretch leading up to Christmas.

With an enjoyable day of football now behind me I now need to feed the spirit, so I’m going to write this music review and then I’m going to work on my book.

To all those people at work right now who are filling in for me so I can do these things, a heartfelt thank you.

Disc 1075 is…Blackwater Park

Artist: Opeth

Year of Release: 2001

What’s up with the Cover? Many years ago I was into this collectible card game called “Magic: The Gathering” which featured a bunch of evil-looking swamps you could use to power your spells. This cover would be a perfect fit for one of those swamp drawings.

As with their 1999 album “Still Life” (reviewed back at Disc 1040) Opeth has hidden some shadowy human figures in the picture. Creepy…

Also, great font for the band name. Even without a foreboding swamp, that band logo would look cool.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Kelly had this album years ago and played it for me, but I didn’t buy it back then. Recently I was digging through Opeth’s discography and I discovered it again, liked it a bit more and so…here it is.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Opeth albums. Of those albums, I put “Blackwater Park” second or third best. To leave room for “Ghost Reveries” I’ll say third. Hey – it’s tough to skate first.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Progressive metal is not for everyone. Hell, it isn’t even always for me, but “Blackwater Park” is such a good example of it that it is hard not to like.

As is the case on a lot of their albums from this period, “Blackwater Park” is an artful blend of two styles There are pounding black metal riffs, with lead singer Mikael Akerfeldt barking out in the guttural throat singing style common to the genre, mixed with lighter symphonic mood elements, coupled with Akerfeldt switching it up to an airy atmospheric melodic singing. In this later style he is reminiscent of Tool’s Maynard James Keenan.

While “Blackwater Park” isn’t as consistently amazing as “Still Life” there is still plenty to like. The record knows when to pound away relentlessly and get your energy up. Then, just when you’re starting to feel a bit frantic, it brings you back down with an echoing bit of standalone piano.

This is intricate music, and requires a good deal of skill from all the players. Despite intricate song constructions and a feverish pace, everything sounds tight and crisp, allowing your ear to roam around a little and hear the songs from different perspectives.

I started out trying to hear the lyrics, but most of the time I got swept up in the guitar riffs and let my thoughts wander. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately and the layered song construction was therapeutic. I can see why troubled kids are drawn to this stuff; at least the smart ones.

Somewhere between my second and third listens I started tuning in to the bass lines, which on a lot of metal just travel below the guitar melody and give it oomph at the bottom end. Not so on “Blackwater Park” where the bass has its own journey, lifting and falling deep in the mix and providing a foil to the guitar line that is often different, but always complementary.

The bass line was a lot easier to pick out when walking. When I was riding the bus, the low rumble of the engine got in the way of me hearing the songs in their full glory. It made me realize why people like to turn this kind of music up. You gotta hear it from top to bottom or you’re not really hearing it.

The songs on “Blackwater Park” tend to be drawn-out affairs. There are only eight songs but the record is over 67 minutes long. Despite this the record doesn’t drag and the songs, though long, have sufficient complexity that you want them to go on for eight or ten minutes so the musical themes feel fully explored.

In terms of what the songs are about, as I noted above it was hard to follow along, even though the lyrics are in English. Because it’s been a rough November, the song “Dirge for November” appealed to me just because of the title. Also, its “wet leaves and cold hard rain” vibe was just right for a wallow while I walked. However, when I looked up the lyrics in the liners notes, I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what was happening. Something bad, but Opeth aren’t terribly specific. It’s a mood piece for when you’re in a mood.

“The Funeral Portrait” is the crowd pleaser on the record, with powerful power riffs that would be at home on an early Metallica album, and a groove that demands a mosh pit. It also has some pretty cool moments from drummer Martin Lopez.

While I preferred “Still Life” overall, there is a lot to be said for “Blackwater Park” being the gateway album into this band. The riffs are accessible, the record has good energy throughout and these boys can play.

Best tracks: Bleak, The Funeral Portrait, Blackwater Park

CD Odyssey Disc 1074: Hawksley Workman

I had a fun night out last night at the Victoria Art Gallery’s “Urbanite” event. It was great to have a place for people to gather and get a little dressed up. I ran into people I knew, people I sorta knew and strangers that I made new connections with, which is pretty much the perfect night out.

Disc 1074 is…The Delicious Wolves

Artist: Hawksley Workman

Year of Release: 2001, 2002 or 2003. Wikipedia thinks it is 2001, Windows Media Player thinks it is 2002 and the liner notes suggest 2003. The artist’s website indicates it is 2001, which seems to be the most definitive source, so let’s go with that. That site also had it with a different cover, so maybe mine is a reissue. Trying to figure it out was a hot mess, just like this damned record.

What’s up with the Cover? An out of focus Hawksley Workman tries to be cool. That about sums up this record.

How I Came To Know It: Sheila was into Hawksley Workman back in the day, so this is one of hers. I also liked a couple of songs but more on that shortly.

How It Stacks Up:  We have two Hawksley Workman albums, this one and Lover/Fighter (reviewed back at Disc 500). Of the two, I prefer Lover/Fighter by a large margin.

Ratings: 2 stars

Technically this album is called “(last night we were) The Delicious Wolves.” This is an awkwardly pretentious title, but once you listen to the record you realize it is entirely appropriate.

Workman starts things off on the right foot, with his two best songs (“Striptease” and “Jealous of Your Cigarette”) coming 1-2 in the lineup and giving you a reasonable expectation of quality to follow. Both songs are sexy and funky. “Striptease” has a cool production, with techno beats playing off traditional guitar riffs. “Jealous of Your Cigarette” is a little crazy with its strange staccato opening, but the B section has such a cool hip-swingin’ groove you forgive the frantic and unfocused opening. These are two quality songs.

Unfortunately, it seems that with two songs under his belt that are enjoyable, Workman seems to think he’s done his duty to the folks who want to hear something nice, and he can now spend the rest of the record showing off how far he can push his sound. I respect that he is pursuing his art and striving to “find the new sound” but the result is an unfocused jumble filled with half-explored notions liberally slathered with excess production.

Throughout the record Workman shows off his strong voice, singing low in the back of his throat and floating into falsetto with equal ease. Despite this, the delivery didn’t hold any emotional gravitas for me. He bangs away on pianos, and creates riffs and melodies that have a lot of promise, but then he combines them with other almost-working melodies and a bunch of layers of percussion and what-not that just left me frustrated with what could have been.  

Lyrically, there isn’t much going on here. Lines like “I’m jealous of your cigarette/and all the things you do with it” are clever and sexy but they feel like one-offs rather than parts of more thoughtful and cohesive themes. And that’s on one of the good songs.

The low point can be found on “Your Beauty Must Be Rubbing Off” where he channels his best Beatnik poet voice and deadpans “cacophony” then a dramatic pause followed by “caca…phony.” Get it? Because it is fake and also like poop? Or something like that. It is certainly like poop.

By the time “Dirty and True” comes along 10 songs in there isn’t anywhere to go but down. We get treated to what I think is supposed to be alternative rock. Lots of bizarre and jarring piano sounds mixed with the clash and clang of rock chords, and falsetto singing that sounds like it is pulled from some high school musical written by Andrew Lloyd Webber when he was 15.

It leads into the album’s final track, “Lethal and Young” where an echoing piano bangs away as Workman does his best impression of Roger Watters at the end of “The Wall” to make us all feel thankful that we’ve gone beyond the wall of whatever musical theatre that has just been inflicted on us. It was a far cry from “The Wall”  but I have to admit I was glad it was over.

On his next album, “Lover/Fighter,” Workman succeeds in pushing the boundaries of pop in a way that was both enjoyable and thoughtful. Knowing he can do it made the hot mess of “The Delicious Wolves” all the more annoying. I guess to make an omelet, you gotta break a few eggs.

Best tracks: Striptease, Jealous of Your Cigarette

CD Odyssey Disc 1073: Barton Carroll

For a short week it has felt pretty long, but I had two pieces of good news today. First, my Amazon CD order came in. New to my collection are:

• Lera Lynn’s new album “Resistor”
• The Masterson’s new album “Transient Lullaby”
• Mountain Goats “Heretic Pride”
• Dori Freeman “Letters Never Read”

Of all of these, I’m most excited about Dori Freeman, whose last album was my favourite record of 2016.

Second, I got a couple more CD shelves, so my growing collection will continue to have a home. My kind and understanding wife even let me put one in the living room.

Disc 1073 is…Avery County, I’m Bound to You

Artist: Barton Carroll

Year of Release: 2013

What’s up with the Cover? A very tastefully drawn flower. Also, that isn’t part of the album design – Barton Carroll signed it! Very cool.

How I Came To Know It: I read about it on a Paste Magazine article called “10 More Obscure Folk Albums to Add to Your Collection.” I did just that, ordering it direct from the artist’s website.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Barton Carroll albums, and “Avery County, I’m Bound to You” is number one! The best!

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Listening to “Avery County, I’m Bound to You” I couldn’t see a path for Barton Carroll to commercial success, and it left me disappointed with the arbitrariness of fame in the music world. These songs may not be written with pop hooks in mind, but they are insightful, carefully considered songs from someone who clearly puts their art first. The album is like the flower on the cover, opening its hearts to you hesitantly, but no less beautiful for it.

“Avery County” feels like the heartland of America, pastoral and dusty, with a meandering quality that makes you think of long gravel driveways and towns where everyone knows your name, and people guard their secrets all the more jealously as a result.

For all the understated beauty of the songs, Carroll’s subject matter is often dark. Small towns are just as rife with broken hearts and troubled minds as anywhere else in America, and the sweet and light tones of the instrumentation on “Avery County” belie deep hollows of sadness lurking beneath.

The best of these is “Every Little Bit Hurts” a song about how life chips away at you bit by bit, populated by characters that have settled into a grim acceptance of their circumstances. Even within these sad stories, Carroll searches for answers:

That old drinkin’ man livin’ out on Tatum’s land

Well I’ve known him in this town all my life

He sips away his days and he’s got a kindly way

And if you care to sit a spell, he will abide

“I said you never looked much trouble though the years are comin’ on

There must be some secret that you own

He said son I never fight with old Jose you know

I always hold out for Patron.”

As wisdom goes, “drink quality tequila” seems like a low bar to clear, but it gets worse from there. Later Carroll meets up with an old girlfriend now working as a stripper and offering him a discount on a lap dance and the song ends with the narrator flipping a dismissive nickel to the local preacher. It is rough stuff.

“Pauline” is a disturbing song of spousal abuse, both physical and emotional. A terrifying tale of a bully admitting his sins whose rage is so vast it makes him brag of his misdeeds when he should be horrified.

I recently read an interesting BBC article on Taylor Swift’s songwriting, and her propensity for ‘one note melodies,” which are compelling to the listener because they draw your ear to the lyrics, and because they are generally easy to sing along to.

While the songs are vastly different in most other ways, Carroll often uses the same technique. He lets his vocals be the most stable thing on the songs, high in the mix and shaking with a confessional vibrato. He isn’t a great vocalist (on “The Beech Mountain Waltz” he labours under the strain of a basic waltz) but he gets it done, and he sings with a conviction that draws you in. It also helps that he’s a master lyricist, with a gift for the quick turn of phrase and the slow burn of tragedy with equal skill.

The record is a bit short, clocking in at only 10 songs and 33 minutes, and some of the songs need a bit more melodic movement, but there aren’t any truly bad songs. Production wise I could use a little less flute, which Carroll throws in to create flourishes and dynamics, but feel a bit stilted and strained where it’s used. I would have been happier just letting the songs slowly work their lyrical magic on me.

Still, this is a hidden gem of a record, with a lot of great stuff. The stories are often tough, but Carroll unfurls them with a natural talent for the spoken word. In so doing he fulfills the greatest victory of any folk musician; making ordinary lives extraordinary, and finding art and lasting wisdom in the face of tragedy.

Best tracks: The Straight Mile, What a Picture Is, Every Little Bit Hurts, Avery County I’m Bound to You

CD Odyssey Disc 1072: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Between my job and volunteer work it ended up being a long day, but I’m getting this review in before it is over.

Disc 1072 is…Songs and Music from the Motion Picture “She’s the One”

Artist: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Year of Release: 1996

What’s up with the Cover? A couple scenes from a movie (less on that later), on either side of a shot of Tom doing what Tom does. Also, a whole lot of yellow. That’s right, album cover, I called you yellow. Care to make somethin’ of it?

How I Came To Know It: For the longest time I skipped getting this record, thinking that because it was a soundtrack to a movie I’d never seen, it wouldn’t resonate. Finally I bought it last year. Sorry, Tom – I should’ve had more faith.

How It Stacks Up:  I have sixteen Tom Petty albums, which I think is all of them. I like them all but competition is fierce and “She’s The One” was only able to land at number 12.

Ratings: 3 stars

Usually when I buy a soundtrack it is because I heard the music while watching the film, and having never seen “She’s the One” it was a bit weird reviewing the record. I tried to just think of it as another solid Tom Petty album (which it is) but I couldn’t help but wonder how these songs fit into a movie.

I have deliberately decided not to find out. Whatever mysteries “She’s the One” the movie will reveal to me will have to wait until I see it – this one is for Tom and the Heartbreakers. I will say that I bet “She’s the One” is some kind of romance or romantic comedy, because these songs are focused on relationships, not all of them healthy.

“She’s the One” borrows from a lot of different aspects of Petty’s music. It comes immediately after Petty’s 1994 solo masterpiece “Wildflowers” and incorporates a lot of the sparse and understated indie folk sounds of that record. However, with the return of the heartbreakers the grime and dust of southern rock returns with a vengeance and Petty seems equally willing to explore a blues riff as he is a lilting melody.

Generally I love when Petty showcases his range, but even though “She’s the One” is only slightly overlong - 15 songs in 51 minutes – it feels disjointed. No doubt being a movie soundtrack it had to cover a lot of emotional ground when telling the story of…whatever the hell “She’s the One” is about. Let’s guess it is boy meets girl/boy loses girl, boy meets girl again and it may or may not work out before one of them moves to California. I mean, there is a song about going to California. But I digress…

One of the reasons I eventually bought this record was the presence of a cover of Lucinda Williams’ “Change the Locks.” The Heartbreakers do a solid version of it, but Petty’s vocal delivery is a bit too “Don’t Come Around Here No More” to make it feel as nasty and visceral as I wanted it to be.

Much better are the original tracks “Walls” and “Angel Dream” both of which have multiple versions present on the record and were likely recurring themes in the film. While I didn’t need a whole bunch of versions of both songs, it helped that they were two of the best songs on the record.

 “Angel Dream (no. 4)” is a bit more up tempo, whereas “Angel Dream (no. 2)” is slower and stripped down. “Angel Dream (no.4)” is a rolling tune best suited to thinking kind thoughts about the woman you love while looking wistfully out a car window. “Angel Dream (no. 2)” is more about looking out through a rainy window wondering when that love is going to pull into the driveway. With songs like this, the movie writes itself.

A similar decision is made with “Walls” where the “circus” version is a bit more jangly and up-beat, and “Walls (No. 3)” which feels thin and drawn out, and fills the lyrics with a heartfelt resignation – like no one was at fault, but things still didn’t work out.

Incidentally, there is no sign of “Angel Dream” nos. 1 and 3 nor does either “Walls” nos. 1 or 2 make an appearance. They were either left on the cutting floor of the studio, or preserved for movie-goers only.

More than anything, “She’s the One” reminded me that even when he is constricted to writing for some limited release art film, Petty is a master storyteller that can knock out timeless melodies in his sleep. Whatever the hell the movie was about, the film makers should feel damn fortunate they managed to get Petty to do their soundtrack.

Tom Petty was taken from us too soon, and while “She’s the One” isn’t his greatest work, it was nice to hear his voice again so soon after he left us all and headed out into the great wide open.

Best tracks: Angel Dream (No. 2 and No. 4), Hope You Never, Asshole, Walls (No. 3), California

CD Odyssey Disc 1071: Conor Oberst

I find myself at the front end of a four day weekend and it feels good. I’ve already wasted the first half my day, sleeping in and waking up groggy and unfocused, but I’m determined not to waste the second. I’ve got the writing bug and I’m going to do something about it, starting right here with this review.

I know this is another five star review – the fifth one in the last 14 albums. I tried to mark it down, I really did, but I just couldn’t help myself. So you’ll just have to forgive me if I once again wax a little poetic – the album was going to anyway.

Disc 1071 is…Ruminations

Artist: Conor Oberst

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? A man, his piano, and his harmonica. That pretty much sums up this album.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of it somewhere and it sounded interesting. When I listened to it, I really liked what I heard so I did what I do in those circumstances – I bought it.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have two Conor Oberst albums; this one and 2014’s “Upside Down Mountain” (reviewed back at Disc 961). I like them both a whole lot, but I’m going to give the edge to “Upside Down Mountain”.

Ratings: 5 stars

When is lo-fi too lo-fi for its own good? On “Ruminations” Conor Oberst puts that question to the test and then some, combining production so sparse it almost sounds like a series of outtakes and demos with songwriting that is so sublime you forgive him for all the hollowness.

It helps when the song lyrics are wrapped in a thoughtful hollowness themselves. “Ruminations” is an apt name for this record, as Conor Oberst digs deep into himself. He leaves you with the impression of a man tortured by his own relentless need to examine the world in all its dreadful glory, while occasionally retreating into booze or women. Even these retreats are strategic, feeding new perspectives back into his work.

Sometimes the lessons are from Oberst’s perspective, and sometimes he shifts to view the world through characters as self-examined and troubled as he is. Sometimes the line gets so blurred between Oberst and his creations you’re not sure where one ends and the other begins.

Musically all you’re going to get on this record is Oberst’s frail, evocative vocals and either a lone guitar or piano played competently, if a bit rough around the edges. Occasionally he throws in a bit of harmonica, which comes at you like the swell of a full orchestra set against the thin emptiness of the production. “Two instruments!” your ears rejoice, before settling back into the quiet again.

That quiet lets you focus on Oberst’s calm, deliberate delivery. He is like Leonard Cohen with his evocative and deeply personal language, and like Bob Dylan in his keen phrasing and social observation. It is heady company to keep, but Oberst manages it with humility and dignity.

“Ruminations” goes to many a dark place, exploring anxiety, depression, alcoholism and suicide with an unflinching directness. On “Tachycardia” a waitress despairs:

“On a slow day the rain against the windowpane

Of the café she spills the coffee grounds

And the same thought hits her like a cinderblock

Life is an odd job that she don’t got the nerve to quit.”

And on “Barbary Coast” Oberst gives insight into the glare of the world, as seen through the eyes of the artist:

“Tried to lose myself in the primitive

In Yosemite, like John Muir did

But his eyes were blue and mine are red and raw.

“Cause the modern world is a sight to see

It’s a stimulant, it’s pornography

It takes all my will not to turn it off.”

And the loss of a loved one on “Next of Kin”:

“Her bathrobe hangs on the bedroom door

Though she’s been dead for a year or more

He buried her by the sycamore

So that he could keep her close.

It broke his heart, and it made him old

Tries to rebuild but it just erodes

Some people say that’s the way it goes

But he don’t feel that way.”

Yeah, it is grim stuff and the lack of any distraction from the basic melody and the heartfelt delivery makes it even harder to hear. But it also opens your soul, lifting your spirit even as it confronts you with the world and all its awful weight.

Oberst sounds genuinely tortured throughout the record, as he sings about the loss of both innocence and the idols that could help steer you through it. The reference to Christopher Hitchens chokes me up every time I hear it. I miss Hitchens as well.

My one frustration with this record isn’t about the record at all. It’s Oberst’s annoying decision to release full band versions of all the same songs six months later on “Salutations”. I tried to avoid it, but the songs are so damned good now I’ve got to go buy that record as well.

Best tracks: All tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1070: Dar Williams

This is my second consecutive review of an album released in 2000. The last one was a vitriol-fueled rap record from Eminem. This one is an uplifting folk record from Dar Williams. It takes all kinds to make the music world turn, my friends.

Disc 1070 is…The Green World

Artist: Dar Williams

Year of Release: 2000

What’s up with the Cover? Folk album covers from this era are often some sort of bad photograph, but Dar Williams does this trend one worse, by making a cover festooned with a multitude of bad photographs.

How I Came To Know It: Last year I decided to dive deep into Dar Williams’ back catalogue. The results were mostly positive. Of the ten studio albums I checked out, I liked seven, and added six to the collection (I still haven’t found 2015’s “Emerald” which I suspect is plagued by the relatively short print runs CDs get in recent years).

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Dar Williams albums at present. Now you’re thinking, “I thought he said he found six already…?” which is true, but “End of the Summer” was not shelf-worthy and after a carefully considered three listens, I’m down to five. Of those five, I rank “The Green Room” second, behind only “Mortal City”.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Maybe it was the recent taste of Eminem in my mouth, but “The Green World” just seemed so damned uplifting. It’s proof that there are lots of ways to look at tragedy, and Dar Williams’ way is to take bad news as an opportunity to examine and broaden your perspective.

She does this primarily through the subtle exploration of character. These songs don’t immediately jump out at you, either melodically or lyrically, but when they finally get through it is worth the wait.

The album opens with “Playing to the Firmament” a song which made me think of that happy hippy who lived on your street when you were growing up. You know the one – that person who had a tough life but nevertheless managed a kind word for everyone. They’d even smile at miserable old lady who would slam her front door in protest if the kids in the street were played too loud for her liking. Yes, there were such ladies on my street; just the one door slammer, but lots of unsung heroes playing to the firmament.

“Playing to the Firmament” is a song about looking above the pettiness of our daily lives, seeing the broad blue sky with fresh eyes and celebrating that the human spirit can always rise above. Dar plays it bright and playful, setting the tone for a record that will have its share of tragedy but at its core is optimistic for the future.

That optimism is put to the test on “After All” the record’s saddest song, and also its best. A song about lost love, depression and self-loathing, with such heartfelt lines as:

“And it felt like a winter machine that you go through and then

You catch your breath and winter starts again

And everyone else is spring bound.

“And when I chose to live there was no joy, it’s just a line I crossed

It wasn’t worth the pain my death would cost

So I was not lost or found.”

Poignant and I also like the cadence and finality created by Dar’s clever use of line length and rhyme scheme. This song could get dark, but instead Dar’s character explores backward through her family, finding a connection in all the experiences that came before her, and how her own experiences also have a place in the world that matter. Or as Dar sums it up:

“’Cause when you live in a world well it gets into who you thought you’d be

And now I laugh at how the world changed me

I think that life chose me after all.”

This song reminded me a lot of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s series of poems on grief called “In Memoriam” and how it slowly explores the stages of grief and how we can come through the darkest times. If you haven’t read “In Memoriam” (the whole thing, monkey - not the three excerpts they anthologize in Norton’s) then I strongly recommend it. It’ll be two of the most beautiful hours you will ever spend reading. But I digress…

Back to Dar, who explores putting aside desire – Buddhist style – in “What Do You Love More Than Love” and on “Calling the Moon” lets you see the world through the perspective of the moon (who seems very nice, by the way). She even does a fun twist on a bit of pop culture with “I Won’t Be Your Yoko Ono”, suggesting it was John holding Yoko back. I generally can’t stand Yoko’s art, but the twist makes for a fun song.

This record isn’t perfect. There are times when Dar can sound a bit trite, and her vocals when she goes into her head voice can feel a bit thin, but that is her style and these aren’t easy or obvious melodies she’s singing. Also, I found the production a bit lush and pop-like, which tended to make it harder to hear the intricate character studies Dar is revealing.

Overall, however, this record gave me a nice sense that things tend to work out if you let them and after reviewing a couple of Dar’s weaker albums, a good reminder of her skills as a singer-songwriter.

Best tracks: Playing to the Firmament, After All, It Happens Every Day, Another Mystery 

CD Odyssey Disc 1069: Eminem

I’m halfway through a weekend that has me keenly aware of how lucky I am to have so many great friends. If you’re going to have only one kind of luck, being lucky with friends is the best one to have. I’ll take it over a lottery win any day.

Disc 1069 is…The Marshall Mathers LP

Artist: Eminem

Year of Release: 2000

What’s up with the Cover? A washed out photo features Eminem sitting on the stoop of a house in a pair of pants that are way too big for him.

In the lower right corner Tipper’s Revenge lets all the kids out there that this album is ultra-cool, and that they should buy it. Thanks, Tipper!

How I Came To Know It: This was a pretty big album back in 2000 but I only recently bought it after deciding on a whim to delve into Eminem’s back catalogue.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Eminem albums, this one and his debut “The Slim Shady LP”. They are both pretty awesome but I’m going to give the win to “The Marshall Mathers LP”.

Ratings: 5 stars

“The Marshall Mathers LP” is one of rap music’s great triumphs. Compelling, thought-provoking and unflinchingly honest, if you like rap and you don’t own this album then you need to reconsider your financial priorities.

Eminem’s previous record, “The Slim Shady LP” had launched him into the stratosphere, going multi-platinum and making him both wealthy and unfathomably famous. How that experience would impact someone like whose identity was wrapped up in being an outsider, spitting rhymes about hard knocks is the main theme examined on “Marshall Mathers”.

But to say “Marshall Mathers” is about exploring a theme would be to sell Eminem short. He is not exploring a theme so much as he’s baring his soul. It isn’t pretty, as the anger and invective that drove Eminem’s art on “Slim Shady” remains, but seeing him turn that invective to this new challenge is fascinating and, ultimately, cathartic for both artist and listener alike.

Many of these songs are various ways that Eminem lifts a middle finger to all of the people who seek to define him. Over the course of the record, he rejects those who want to hero worship him, those who want to blame him for being a poor role model and those who want to pigeon-hole his music. On “Who Knew” he pushes back on those who tell him that he should be more careful of what he says, and on “The Way I Am” he expresses resignation that his fame defines him whether he wants it to or not, or as he raps:

“I am whatever you say I am

If I wasn’t, then why would I say I am?

In the paper, the news, every day I am”

The structure of “The Way I Am”, with Eminem falling forward off of every rhyme adds to the feeling that he is spinning out of control. Eminem underscores that he is longer wholly in charge of his identity, but through an unflinching exploration of the experience, he is able to use his own rebellious nature to defeat this new problem.

Eminem also cleverly pays homage to the Eric B. and Rakim song “As the Rhyme Goes On”, where Rakim raps:

“I’m the R to the A to the K – I – M

If I wasn’t then why would I say I am?”

It is a brilliant twist on the braggadocio that is a core element to rap music, where the dream of one day becoming a household name becomes a new kind of burden.

And while all these deeper themes are woven throughout “Marshall Mathers” are amazing, even without them you would be left with some of the most complex and intricate rhymes ever. Eminem is one of rap’s true greats, spitting strings of complex rhymes in rapid-fire staccato and never missing a beat. Most people couldn’t stay on top of his furious pace, let alone write the narrative stories he weaves into each song.

This album is not for the faint of heart. Even though fame weighs heavily on Eminem’s lyrics, his response is to push back by trying to offend in every way possible. “The Marshall Mathers LP” is loaded with homophobic, misogynistic and violent lyrics. No matter how open-minded you consider yourself, there is a good chance that at some point on this record you will be either offended or troubled by something you hear.

 “Kim” is a particularly tough song to endure, featuring over six minutes of a man murdering his ex, complete with sobs and screams. It is hard to listen to and I’m pretty sure once I’m released from the CD Odyssey’s “a full listen, monkey!” rule, I’ll be skipping it when it comes on. But then, that’s the point: Eminem wants to poke until you feel uncomfortable.

The record has too many tracks (18) and is too long (72 minutes) but it is so brilliant as a single cohesive work of art that I forgave it both offences and gave it a perfect score anyway. After all, offending is part of Eminem’s goal.

Best tracks: All tracks, even the ones that make you squirm in your seat

CD Odyssey Disc 1068: Omen

There was a lot of good heavy metal going on in California in the mid-eighties. Back on October 3 I reviewed Cirith Ungol’s 1984 album “King of the Dead” and now, less than a month later I find myself revisiting California’s heavy metal scene, with another album released the same year.

Disc 1068 is…Battle Cry

Artist: Omen

Year of Release: 1984

What’s up with the Cover? Carnage. More specifically, a band of skull-faced dudes are slaughtering a bunch of other dudes. In the upper left corner Omen attempts a cool band logo, with the “O” in their name being a snake. Ssssscary!

How I Came To Know It: Back in 1984 my brother and I were really into heavy metal. Unlike me, he had a job as a commercial fisherman back then, and he’d come in from fishing flush with cash and buy a whole whack of metal albums all at once. I used to borrow the records and “Battle Cry” was one that caught my ear. Years later, I discovered this album had been reissued on CD and snapped it up.

How It Stacks Up:  Omen has released seven albums over the years, but I only have this one so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars

Heavy metal is not a subtle genre of music, and Omen’s “Battle Cry” is not a subtle album. It is epic, deliberately grandiose crotch-driven glory. When I first heard it I was a teenager and I liked it a whole lot. 33 years later I still do.

Omen is very much traditional heavy metal, pounding out power chords in furious tempo, and taking no prisoners. Singer J.D. Kimball belts out every tune with a screeching fury that clearly did his vocal chords no favours. Kenny Powell’s guitar lays down a basic riff and sticks with it faithfully, and the bassist’s job is to play the same chords as the guitar, only lower. Complicated prog rock it isn’t.

When you play simple metal music you need good riffs, solid solos and the band has to play tight, and Omen deliver on all fronts. They pound away with a fury that never diminishes from the opening shriek of “Death Rider” to the last drum beat of “In the Arena” which comes an all-too-soon 36 minutes later.

As for lyrics, these songs are positively medieval. No, I’m not being metaphorical – these guys sing about things associated with the dark ages. Raiders, dragons, wenches and ancient battles are all approached with hyperbolic glee. “The Axeman” begins with a spoken word section of some creepy guy saying:

“In days of old, men feared not the sword or the lance

Nor did he fear the beast of fire.

He feared….THE AXEMAN!!!!”

Yeah, baby! A song about public beheadings conducted by the Axeman aka “hooded figure of mortal fear.” This song is chock-full of glorious lyrics to please the heart of any teenage fantasy enthusiast (guilty). My only quibble is that the intro suggests men didn’t fear battles and dragons but then the album’s other two great songs are about those exact things.

The title track is all about battles, and features such visceral violence as:

“The smell of death lingers in the air

Bloodstained bodies scattered everywhere”

And on “Dragon’s Breath” “the beast has taken many/the ashes tell the tale” as our titular monster flies about burning people to death. All this violence and death bring the best out of Omen, who seem to relish the shock value of it all as they shred guitar solos and pound out 4/4 time with gusto.

When the band isn’t singing about blood and fire, they aren’t nearly as compelling. Both “Be My Wench” and “Bring Out the Beast” are awkward, tone deaf songs that have not aged well. Note that there is no beast in “Bring Out the Beast” and lines like “I will deliver the hardness” make it pretty clear this is a song about getting a boner.

The record suffers from eighties production that take away some of the oomph, although it is not as bad as some other albums from this time. The tinny “we recorded this in a steel culvert under an LA freeway overpass” sound gives a harsh metallic edge to the music that even helps on some tracks.

This album is fast, furious and full of little flaws, but the little flaws made me love it even more. I want my metal to be full of energy and if the songs can be about swords and monsters, all the better. “Battle Cry” delivers on this front, and if it feels a little anachronistic by modern standards, that just adds to the charm of the experience.

Best tracks: Death Rider, The Axeman, Dragon’s Breath, Battle Cry