CD Odyssey Disc 1086: Blue Rodeo

Season’s greetings, gentle readers! Santa was very good to me, and I have a $50 gift certificate to my local record store burning a hole in my pocket. But before all that happens, let’s review something already in the collection.

Disc 1086 is…Palace of Gold

Artist: Blue Rodeo

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a collage full of various pretty things (flowers, guitars, colorful frogs) jumbled together to create a hill with a palace on top of it. I note with some disappointment this palace is not gold, although it does have a golden sun burning behind it. Maybe the palace got its nickname due to the memorable sunsets it enjoys.

As for the collage, while I like the individual images in isolation, they are a lot less appealing jumbled together.

How I Came To Know It: Sheila got me into Blue Rodeo years ago and I probably bought her this album when it came out.

How It Stacks Up:  We have 13 Blue Rodeo albums. Of those 13, “Palace of Gold” is in a dead heat with “Lost Together” at 6 or 7. Which is better (or more deserving of a four star rating) depends on how I am feeling at any particular moment. Today the Christmas spirit is making me feel generous, so I’m going to bump “Palace of Gold” ahead of “Lost Together” and into sixth.

Ratings: 4 stars

Before writing this review I listened to this album in perfect Canadian conditions: waiting for a bus in the freezing cold. The thoughtful artistic expression of principal songwriters Jim Cuddy and Greg Keelor kept my heart warm despite the bite of winter, and the padded headphones did the same for my ears.

For an album that was supposed to be a departure from Blue Rodeo’s signature sound, the opening track off “Palace of Gold,” with its blasts of organ layered over country/rock melodies sounds an awful lot like what Blue Rodeo always sounds like.

Sure the arrangements are a bit more lush, and Cuddy and Keelor have added some horn here and there, but this is still Blue Rodeo at its core. This is a good thing because horns or no horns, “Palace of Gold” has some of Blue Rodeo’s finest songwriting. While I would have liked some of these songs stripped down a bit more so I could appreciate that songwriting, there were other times that I welcomed the orchestral swell of it all.

The horns make their first significant appearance at the end of track three, a Keelor number called “Homeward Bound Angel” and sound…OK. It felt a bit like they were trying to channel the Rolling Stones and they kept the song going about a minute longer than it needed to be. Then again, if you get mad at Keelor for stretching an otherwise good song then you’re going to be mad a lot. As an experienced Blue Rodeo fan, I knew enough to just shrug and enjoy the ride.

The album has two masterpieces, one by each band leader. Cuddy’s entry is “Bulletproof,” a plea in the midst of a fight with your loved one to stop the barbed retorts flying around the room before someone gets hurt. This song has an oddly placed  flamenco guitar solo in the middle of it, but it manages to work, chiefly because the cry of Cuddy’s voice as he seeks an emotional armistice is so powerful and honest.

One again I found on balance I was enjoying Cuddy’s folk-country style slightly more appealing than Keelor’s stoner rock, but both had their moments. The second masterpiece belongs to Keelor, in fact. “Stage Door” is a song about the little things that give someone comfort in times of uncertainty. For Keelor, the list is simple:

“Ain’t no mystery, what I need

Is understanding and your sweet sympathy

A steel string guitar and a little weed

And someone to keep me company

Someone to keep me company.”

This song has a flourish of violin that really adds to the swell of it all, and takes Keelor’s stoner sounds and makes them a bit more orchestral. I liked the effect, and as with Cuddy on “Bulletproof,” the emotional honesty in Keelor’s delivery gives additional gravitas to what is already a pretty emotionally charged song.

The album edges into being too long at 14 songs and 55 minutes, but there is enough quality sprinkled through the experience that it was easy to forgive. Over the years we’ve played this record a lot (it is one of Sheila’s favourites) and it is still fresh and enjoyable. It may have a few more bells and whistles (and trumpets) than usual but at its core it is just another great Blue Rodeo album and well worth your time.

Best tracks: Holding On, Homeward Bound Angel, Bulletproof, Love Never Lies, Stage Door

CD Odyssey Disc 1085: Warren Zevon

I’m officially on holidays! It has been a busy year and it feels good to have a chance to recharge the batteries.

Today I slept in, finished my Christmas shopping and then my cat and I enjoyed a can of tuna for lunch (he got a taste, I got the rest). Now it’s time for a blog entry, coffee with a friend and then dinner with some other friends.

I’m not fully relaxed yet, but with a schedule like this it shouldn’t be long.

Disc 1085 is…Sentimental Hygiene

Artist: Warren Zevon

Year of Release: 1987

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a Giant Head cover with what I think passes for ‘artistic’ lighting. Also, there is some weird portion of another photo down the left hand side that makes the whole thing reminiscent of an old cathode ray TV where the horizontal balance is on the fritz.

How I Came To Know It: This was just me digging through Warren Zevon’s collection, buying every album I liked with the zeal of the newly converted.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 10 Warren Zevon albums, which isn’t all of them but is all of them that I want. Of those, “Sentimental Hygiene” is solid, but competition in the land of Warren Zevon is fierce. I comes in 6^th.

Ratings: 4 stars

Rock musicians often suffer for their art, and if they’re lucky enough to live through it they feed the results of that struggle into yet more art. It is a vicious cycle for them but for listeners it is an opportunity to live vicariously through their personal demons like art vampires. Warren Zevon died far too young, but the art vampire in me is glad the demons he explores on “Sentimental Hygiene” never killed him, but only rejuvenated his work.

Fresh out of struggles with drug and alcohol addition, “Sentimental Hygiene” was Zevon’s first album in five years. His gift for songwriting survived that regenerative process, and if anything made this collection of songs more personal than ever.

I recently watched a Carrie Fisher spoken word show where Fisher (no stranger to tragedy herself) reminds her audience that any experience is easier to survive if you can see the humour in it after the fact. Zevon has this skill and it comes across in his music. Not all of these songs are funny – how could they be? – but Zevon has always been naturally witty and “Sentimental Hygiene” is no exception.

On “Trouble Waiting to Happen” Zevon sings about what it is like to be a celebrity with issues, reading about your personal life in Rolling Stone:

“I read things I didn’t know I’d done

It sounded like a lot fun

I guess I’ve been bad or something

Trouble waiting to happen.”

On “Bad Karma” he says he “took a wrong turn on the astral plane” and on “Detox Mansion” he characterizes a stint in rehab as “raking leaves with Liza/me and Liz clean up the yard”.

When he does get dark, it manifests as a deep sadness for his past actions. On “Reconsider Me” the “re-” stands out starkly, reminding us that Zevon knows if you just consider all he’s done, he might come out poorly, but he’s clean now and he’s asking for re-consideration, a fresh start. On “Every Dog Can Shake Hands” he notes how the music industry can be rough, managing to do it in a way that doesn’t make you feel like he’s just another millionaire with a pill problem. He just seems like an ordinary guy who got in over his head.

Of course, Zevon is no ordinary guy. He is an exceptional musical talent and these songs are just as clever musically as they are lyrically. Rock music can often feel stitched together in a haphazard fashion, There’s an A section, a B section and a chorus, a repeat, a bridge and a fade out.

On “Sentimental Hygiene” Zevon’s chorus is often just a clever refrain, stitching every section together equally, and the bridge is so naturally complimentary to the rest of the melody that it takes multiple listens to realize where one ends and the other begins. When he employs a more standard verse-chorus-verse-chorus approach it is similarly seamless, naturally flowing from one section to the other as one cohesive melodic narrative.

The arrangements are also solid. “Bad Karma” cleverly slips in a bit of sitar for south Asian flavour, but not so much as to be self-indulgent. Throughout the album the guitar and piano are both front and centre but never competing with one another.

The production suffers a bit from the late eighties’ love of artificial sounds, but Zevon has a new wave edge to him that makes it less offensive than on straight rockers like Tom Petty and Bruce Springsteen who tried the same effects with less success.

Zevon is loved by his peers and his albums are often a who’s who of musical talent in the background. “Sentimental Hygiene” is no exception with guest spots from Neil Young, Brian Setzer, Flea, Bob Dylan, Don Henley, Jennifer Warnes, Mike Campbell and most of REM.

Mike Campbell’s rich guitar sound is particularly welcome on “Reconsider Me” which gives the tune a majestic lighter-waving Tom Petty anthem feel.

The last song on the album is the worst. Zevon goes all in on “Leave My Monkey Alone” with the late eighties sound, and the resulting booms, thumps and pointless synth flourishes take a meandering mess and highlight the worst parts of it. My CD is a 2003 remaster that compounds the problem by including a second version of this song half sung in Spanish. The other bonus track, “Nocturne” is equally awful, featuring a bunch of weird circus sounds that go nowhere but are mercifully over in less than two minutes.

With those two extra songs wrecking the end of the album this could drop to a 3 star album, but I liked everything before it well enough that I’ll stick with 4 and pretend that never happened.

Best tracks: Boom Boom Mancini, The Factory, Trouble Waiting to Happen, Reconsider Me, Bad Karma

CD Odyssey Disc 1084: Little Feat

I got home today and jumped from one chore to another all so that when I was done I could take a deep breath and turn my soul to music. And here we are!

Disc 1084 is…Dixie Chicken

Artist: Little Feat

Year of Release: 1973

What’s up with the Cover? “Who me? You’d like me to play this accordion?” says a haughty heiress. The accordion is not the instrument of choice for your average haughty heiress (that would be the piano) but this woman appears to be the exception and that smug look on her face says she was just dying for you to ask her to bust out a song.

Side note: Little Feat has predicted how cool a smoky grey-blue hair colour would look 40 years before it became widely popular.

The background of this cover confuses me, though. Is that a giant mattress behind her or is it the wall of a padded room? Maybe her wealthy family was so embarrassed that she took up the accordion instead of the piano they had her committed. “You see Doctor, for a Shaughnessy to play the accordion instead of the piano. Why, it’s just insane.”  

How I Came To Know It: My friend Elaine bought me two Little Feat albums for my birthday a few years ago, this one and “Feats Don’t Fail Me Now” (reviewed back at Disc 797). Thanks, Elaine!

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Little Feat albums and if you’ve been reading carefully, you’ll already know which two. Of the two, I put “Dixie Chicken” first.

Ratings: 4 stars

Little Feat would like you to just relax, man. If you’d like to know how that feels all you’ve got to do is settle down and lend your ear to “Dixie Chicken,” their third album and a mid-seventies masterpiece.

Little Feat is what happens when blues rock gets a healthy dose of hippy. I say ‘healthy dose’ because guitarist/singer/band leader Lowell George’s musical vision may be a bit loose and flowery, but it just feels good for the soul.

“Dixie Chicken” features some of the most interesting melodic structures I’ve heard in rock music, and despite Little Feat’s penchant for throwing every instrument they can play into the arrangement, those melodies always shine through. These songs have the organic growth of a jam session but the precision and planning of master session players.

“Dixie Chicken” has a few stories to tell, but for the most part those stories want you to just chill out. And that doesn’t mean these are easy tales, it just means life is how you take it, not what happens.

This could be you and a friend chasing the same woman, like on “Two Trains” or it could be a bit of advice about treating people right as you ascend in your chosen profession as it is on “On Your Way Down.” Whatever comes your way, “Dixie Chicken” reminds you to take it easy.

It helps that Little Feat are so adept at sitting down in the pocket of one of the mellowest grooves in rock. The guitars coo out mellow reverb and the piano meanders but never falls behind. Along the way you might get a flash of organ, or even a little jazz flute but it all just comes in right when it feels…natural.

The best example of this is vibe is “Roll Um Easy”. Just two and half minutes long, this song will have you so relaxed you’ll swear you’ve been at the spa for two and a half hours. It’s about wanderin’ the earth, and taking joy where you find it and being just as happy to settle down with a good woman when the time feels right:

“Oh I am just a vagabond
A drifter on the run
And eloquent profanity
It rolls right off my tongue
And I have dined in palaces
Drunk wine with Kings and Queens
But darlin', oh darlin'
You're the best thing I've ever seen
Won't you roll me easy
Oh slow and easy
Take my independence
With no apprehension, no tension”

Later George sings about the Concertina but doesn’t play one and extolls the virtue of singing in both harmony and unison. If all that seems odd, you need to chill out even more; there aren’t any wrong turns in the world of Little Feat.

When I reviewed the follow up to this album, “Feats Don’t Fail Me Now” I mentioned that it sometimes slid into excessive noodling or self-serving jams. None of those shortcomings happen on “Dixie Chicken” which is tight as hell at 10 tracks and 36 minutes. The songs are packed with musical ideas but Little Feat gets into the jam, sorts it, and resolves it in three to five minutes. It is the perfect musical meal, leaving you satisfied but not overstuffed.

Along the way they incorporate Motown, boogie woogie, blues, soul, rock and a host of other influences and come up with something all their own.

The album ends with the slow, mellow grooves of “Lafayette Railroad” an instrumental which feels less like a railroad, and more like a set of abandoned overgrown tracks through the woods you follow down to your favourite watering hole to go skinny dipping.

I needed to relax in the worst way tonight and “Dixie Chicken” got it done. This is a record made by thoughtful musicians for thoughtful people that suggests you don’t need to get out of your own head so much as you need to find a comfy place in there to take it all in.

Best tracks: Two Trains, Roll Um Easy, On Your Way Down, Fool Yourself, Walkin’ All Night

CD Odyssey Disc 1083: Opeth

I’m feeling a bit groggy tonight, but that’s to be expected. I’m still fighting a cold and I spent four hours getting a new tattoo. It’ll be a couple more sessions before it is done, and I’m pretty excited about the finished product.

Disc 1083 is…Ghost Reveries

Artist: Opeth

Year of Release: 2005

What’s up with the Cover? Creepy candles and the requisite shadowy figure in the distance that seems to be a mainstay of Opeth album covers. In this case it might just be a stained glass window depicting a king or something, or maybe it is just a trick of the light. Since it is the Christmas season let’s assume it is Good King Wenceslas, but since it is an Opeth album let’s assume when you bring the candles closer you discover King Wency is all covered in swamp muck and wielding a bloody hatchet.

How I Came To Know It: I read an article where someone picked a top metal album for every year from 1970 to 2017. This was the 2005 entry.

How It Stacks Up:  Opeth has released 12 studio albums but I only have four. Of those four “Ghost Reveries” comes in second, only narrowly falling short of my favourite, “Still Life” (reviewed back at Disc 1040).

Ratings: 4 stars

Opeth is a Swedish metal band that blends progressive rock, blues, jazz and a host of other sounds into a more nuanced exploration of the dark and dreary places Swedish metal bands tend to wander.

That wandering often leads those Swedish metal bands to go on at length about Satan. I don’t think most of them actually dig Satan, but the lyrics are intended to leave that impression. Opeth tends to branch out into a lot of other themes, exploring intolerance, depression and a host of other topics.

So what’s the main topic of discussion on “Ghost Reveries”? Turns out it’s…Satan, or at least part of it. The record explores the dark thoughts of a character that is being pulled, inexorably toward horrible decisions by some tempter. Sometimes the character seems in anguish over it, and sometimes he seems to revel in the power that is being offered to him.

The overall effect is to create a sense of foreboding, as the songs make you feel like you are being pursued by some relentless force, sometimes external and sometimes in your mind. Often the line between the two is blurry.

On “Ghost Reveries” Opeth’s penchant for musical discovery is at its height. “Hours of Wealth” is almost a classical guitar piece, noodling around in slow blues progressions that reminded me of Eric Clapton. On “Atonement” the guitar riff sounded more like George Harrison sitar music, which is then paired with a high tinkling jazz piano. It shouldn’t work, but it does. The guitar work on “Ghost Reveries” is top-notch throughout. Often I am drawn to bass and drums with this band, but here the guitar melodies were just too compelling to ignore.

In terms of lyrics, I find Opeth can overstuffed their songs with big words. When you read it in the liner notes it seems silly but once it is paired with their musical genius all that rich and horrific imagery just makes sense. They really like the words “mire” and “fog” and while those are pretty great words to go with all the foreboding and damp imagery, once I noticed their overuse I couldn’t stop noticing it. Or maybe it is like when you buy a new car and then it seems like you see the same make every time you go driving. There aren’t more of them, you’re just noticing them more now. But I digress…

Anyway, there is a fair bit of that throat-singing style but not so much of it that it became overpowering, and when Mikael Akerfeldt sings more traditionally his vocals have an otherworldly ghostly quality that juxtaposes nicely. Also, despite a lot of heaviness in places, the band is tight as hell and lets the thread of the melody pull you through the song. I wouldn’t dance to this stuff, but it makes for a pretty solid rhythmic head bob.

This album is a long one, over 66 minutes and with an average song length of 8:15 (four of them exceed 10 minutes) yet it never drags or has you wishing it would end. The songs take their time unfolding internally, and blend nicely into one another as well, even when they are transitioning from a slow bluesy number into a double-bass driven metal assault. A couple of those transitions gave me a wicked jolt when they happened but it was delightfully wicked.

“Ghost Reveries” is definitely thinking-man’s metal, but it never feels pretentious or forced and when they get their groove on they can rock with the best of them. That they can mix a whole lot of other elements into that groove and never lose the plot is an impressive accomplishment. If you like metal and you have an adventurous ear, this album is for you.

Best tracks: The Baying of the Hounds, Reverie/Harlequin Forest, Hours of Wealth, The Grand Conjuration

CD Odyssey Disc 1082: Steppenwolf

Today at work my bathroom smelled like pizza. Not like the ‘aftermath’ of pizza, but like someone had been eating fresh pizza in there. Anyway, here’s a music review.

Disc 1082 is…16 Greatest Hits

Artist: Steppenwolf

Year of Release: 1973 but featuring music from 1967-1971

What’s up with the Cover? There are a lot of borders on this cover. This would ordinarily annoy me, but the smaller this band photo is the better. I can live with the shapeless dude without a shirt on the right hand side but the guy showing off his belly on the left? Tuck that beer baby in, my friend.

How I Came To Know It: Everyone knows this band’s big hit, “Born to be Wild” and it is why I bought this on cassette back in high school. I ordered it by mail through Columbia House, where you got something like 11 albums for 8 cents or 8 albums for 11 cents or something, but then you had to spend the next year finding a tape a month to buy at the regular price.

That tape copy has long been lost to the mists of time, but about a year ago my buddy Ross was placing an order to some small online clearing house that offered free shipping. He asked me if I wanted to get anything at the same time. The website listed a bunch of classic albums, including this one for only $5 so I decided it was time for it to return to my collection. “16 Greatest Hits” is probably the only album I’ll ever buy through a discount mail order system…twice.

How It Stacks Up:  This is a greatest hits album so doesn’t stack up.

Ratings: Greatest hits albums don’t get a rating.

What is a Steppenwolf anyway? Apparently it is a Herman Hesse novel from the twenties about a man struggling with his human nature and his more bestial instincts. Like a werewolf, only on a psychological level.

In terms of the band, Steppenwolf is a half-American, half-Canadian hybrid that made a lot of cool music in the late sixties and early seventies. They weren’t a psychological werewolf so much as they were a psychedelic werewolf, banging out simple rock and roll in complex arrangements (another dichotomy) and singing about sex, drugs, rock and roll and a bit of social revolution. Hey man, it was the sixties.

I know this album very well and I came into it preparing to cringe at the overplayed ghosts of my past. Instead, I found every track was like an old friend, gone too long but always welcome when he rings me doorbell. Not literally, obviously. I’m Canadian: call ahead before you ring my doorbell.

This is some solid rock and roll, and if these guys had just banged it out in the traditional way it would still be good. The riffs are memorable, and the melodies are creative and have a meandering carefree quality, without ever losing focus.

But Steppenwolf was not content with just writing good riffs and pop hooks, and steep their music in layers of sound. Instead of relying on studio tricks, they allow complicated arrangements to create these layers, and this puts a lot of pressure on the musicians to be tight, lest the result be a muddy mess. Fortunately everyone is up for the challenge.

Guitar and vocals are a big part of all rock and roll, and Steppenwolf is no exception, but I found their willingness to rely heavily on organ fills the music with an overlay of otherworldly groove. The constant organ licks, combined with flashes of tambourine and harmonica take sixties flower power pop elements and combine them with harder rock. The result is a celebratory parade of crazed but controlled creativity.

Thematically, Steppenwolf loves their motorcycles. In addition to their most famous song (do I really have to name it) lesser-known tracks like “Ride With Me” and “Screaming Night Hog” further explain the joy of the wind in your hair and the growl of a Harley Davidson between your legs. When I was a kid I was warned me to steer clear of bikers, but I would always peer out from behind the curtains when I heard the sword pipes growling down the block. “Born to be Wild” recaptured early childhood memories of them driving through my neighborhood; demigods of dangerous rebellion.

While “Born to be Wild” and “Magic Carpet Ride” are the obvious hits on this record, I’ve known these songs so long they all feel very familiar. “Snowblind Friend” and “The Pusher” are both cautionary tales about hard drugs with “Snowblind Friend” being particularly tragic with lines like:

“He said he wanted heaven, but prayin’ was too slow

So he bought a one way ticket on an airline made of snow.”

And this being the late sixties, there are a fair number of protest songs, the best being “Monster” which bemoans Steppenwolf’s observation that the idealistic values that founded America have become perverted and monstrous.

When I first had this on tape I didn’t appreciate it. I’d play “Born to Be Wild” flip the tape, rewind four minutes and then play “Magic Carpet Ride.” Years later I realize this album has very little filler, and if there is any it is probably in the acid-rock meandering instrumental in the middle of “Magic Carpet Ride”.

Instead, this album gives you a lot of what made the late sixties great; innovative music that wasn’t afraid to push boundaries. Whether you want to rock out while you ride your hog, or examine the social ills of modern society, there are tracks a-plenty for you to delve into. I’m glad this record is once again part of music collection and I won’t make the mistake of letting it slip away again.

Best tracks: Born to be Wild, It’s Never Too Late, Snowblind Friend, Magic Carpet Ride, The Pusher, Monster

CD Odyssey Disc 1081: Courtney Marie Andrews

Back at Disc 953 I provided a list of best albums of 2016 but I’m not linking to it, and don’t look it up – it’s wrong. I made that list too soon, and while there are a lot of great records on it since then I’ve found a lot more. This next album is one of them.

Disc 1081 is…Honest Life

Artist: Courtney Marie Andrews

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? The return of the Giant Head cover. The Giant Head cover was a lot more popular back in the seventies, but Courtney Marie Andrews is kind of a throwback to that era, so it makes sense. Also as Giant Heads go, I find hers pleasant to look at.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of the album and decided to check out a couple of tracks. I liked what I heard.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have one Courtney Marie Andrews album, but I’m on the prowl for the album that preceded this one, 2013’s “On My Page”. For now, I can’t make a stack out of one album.

Ratings: 5 stars

I spent an hour last night standing with twenty other people waiting for a bus that never came. This should have annoyed me, but when you have Courtney Marie Andrews’ “Honest Life” keeping you company it just feels like part of the journey. My heart swelled and soared with beauty while all around me people fretted, peered down the road and thumbed away furiously at their smart phones.

“Honest Life” is an apt name for this record, which is raw and emotionally evocative. I heard in an interview that Andrews got a lot of her ideas for this record talking to people while working in an Eastern Washington State pub. Whether she is taking on their stories or telling her own – and it is often hard to tell – she applies an unflinching honesty to the subject. There is a lot of heartache on an “Honest Life” and Andrews dives deep as she explores it.

The music is folk-tinged country, played straight up, no chaser. The songs don’t call for a lot of technical wizardry from the band and the production is sparse and keeps everything even in the mix, letting the songwriting and Andrews’ vocals draw you in. Sometimes this can be a bigger challenge to a band than complex arrangements, because it exposes any falseness or lack of feeling. Fortunately, everyone on “Honest Life” fully commits, throwing their hearts into the songs with the same courage as Andrews.

Andrews was only 25 when she made this album, but she has an old soul. Her tone is rich with a very subtle quaver in the upper register. It feels timeless, and the way she makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck reminded me of Emmylou Harris. Like Harris, Andrews can sing in an exposed and delicate way that makes you catch your breath. She has a frayed innocence and pathos that evokes the first time you felt lovelorn, or lost or uncertain, but with a core of conviction that reminds you how you pulled yourself together and carried on.

The first songs that catch your attention are the road-weary mid tempo numbers. Andrews opens the album with “Rookie Dreaming” and when she lands the opening line “I was singin’ with the choir on the train” you wish with all your heart you could’ve been on that train. Listening to her, you kind of are. On “Put the Fire Out” when she sings the chorus:

“I am ready to put the fire out

There’s a place for everything

And I think I know mine now.”

The melody line walks down with a conviction that matches her commitment. There’s some uncertainty in that “I think” section, but the music tells you that she’s going to be OK. These songs are a balm for anyone feeling a little uncertain about life. They’re so real and true that they go beyond telling Andrews’ story, or even the story of her bar patrons, they tell your story too.

There is a plainness in Andrews writing that speaks very directly, and lets the metaphors she chooses stand out stark and clear. “Irene” tells the story of a woman with bad luck in men, or as Andrews puts it:

“You are a magnet, Irene

Sometimes good people draw troublesome things.”

Or she’ll just go for the plain truth, no need for literary terms. Such as on “Let the Good One Go”:

“They say a goodbye is a goodbye

That my heart won’t ache

All it will take is time

But I’d like to think pain ain’t that black and white”

These lines are a good encapsulation of this record; forthright and direct but not pretending to have all the answers. Life isn’t about simple solutions or defined end points, it’s a journey that flows like a river until one day, it doesn’t. While it flows it’s nice to have someone like Courtney Marie Andrews helping put words to those swells in your heart that are so hard to translate.

On the title track, Andrews sings:

“All I’ve ever wanted was an honest life

To be the person that I really am inside.”

Some people take a lifetime and never achieve this, but at the tender age of 25, Andrews has delivered a record that does so on every song.

Empty inspirationals are like candy – immediately gratifying, but ultimately leaving you empty and wanting more. “Honest Life” is food for the soul, filling you with resolve and leaving you a better and wiser person than before you heard it.

Best tracks: All tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1080: Nice & Smooth

I’m busy in a whole lot of ways right now but I’m trying to keep my head above water and stay inspired. With the help of my Friday night server I’ve discovered two new bands this week that I really like.

Chief is an indie folk band from California that only ever released one album – Modern Rituals – but it’s a good one. The Acorn is a Canadian band that is still going strong and released a couple of records that really appealed to me – “Glory Hope Mountain” and “Heron Act”. Both have now gone on the wish list I cart around while CD shopping.

Disc 1080 is…Self-Titled

Artist: Nice & Smooth

Year of Release: 1989

What’s up with the Cover? You know when you see a picture of yourself from way back in the day and you think that you look pretty good: young, vibrant, ready to take on the world. Then you look at what you’re wearing and cringe, realizing that what was the height of cool in the day has not aged well. That’s the reaction Nice & Smooth probably have every time they look at this album cover.

How I Came To Know It: I heard Nice & Smooth to a guest rap on Gang Starr’s “DWYCK,” a song from the 1994 album “Hard to Earn.” Although they were only on for a couple of bars they really impressed me and I had to find out more.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have this one Nice & Smooth album. They’re kind of hard to find so while I’m not ruling out adding more, I’m not counting on it either. For now, one doesn’t allow a stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

Nice & Smooth may not be as famous as other bands that came out of the eighties New York rap scene, but they deserve more recognition. Listening to this album as an outsider to that scene looking in, I can only hope that among the faithful, they are known and well loved.

This is classic late eighties rap, with a few solid samples, borrowed at the time without fear of copyright law and used in small snippets to help facilitate a beat. There are occasions when the sample is a bit too obvious – they borrow from the Five Stairsteps “O-o-h Child” a bit too heavily on a song also called “O-o-h Child” – but generally they keep it simple and know how to repurpose grooves from the seventies to make raps of the eighties that are just as imaginative and original.

Nice & Smooth are Greg Nice and Smooth Bee, and they share duties on the mic. Greg Nice is more traditional for the time, reminding me of LL Cool J or maybe the Fresh Prince if he was being a bit more hard core. Nice does a good job of establishing a narrative and his rhymes fall hard on the end of each bar which isn’t terribly imaginative, but he does it with style. Also, remember that in 1989 all rap was innovative.

Smooth Bee is a different animal, and in many ways before his time. He’s got a smooth laid back style that is a bit like Rakim, but with a curl to his delivery that makes him sound like he’s some kind of street philosopher. Like Guru, Smooth Bee also goes beyond bragging about how well he raps and explores intellectual rhymes. One of my favourites is from “Funky For You”

“Smooth B, notorious, glorious

Knowledge is infinite, I live in a fortress

I'm so astronomical, yet on a physical plane

My body's just a shell, in control is my brain.”

“Dope on a Rope” has an infectious neo-African beat and a crazy sample of someone singing “zoomba-zoomba, ba-zoomba, zam.” Looks weird in print, but it works on the record, aided by Smooth Bee dropping rhymes about atoms and quasars. Smooth Bee is that super chill guy you run into late at a party that comes off as a stoner, and then you realize he’s read five times as many books as you and speaks three more languages.

Despite dabbling in philosophy, Nice & Smooth do rap a lot about 1) how well they rap and 2) scoring girls, but as an old school rap fan I like these subjects. It is like always ordering pasta at an Italian restaurant. Sure you know what you’re going to get, but over time you start to develop a nuanced appreciation of just what makes a good plate of spaghetti.

As rappers go, Nice & Smooth’s debut album is a pretty solid plate of spaghetti. They are playful when it is called for, but hit the beat hard when the mood moves them. Early tracks play games by refusing to close a rhyme that clearly ends with “ass” but on “Hit Me” they happily drop a half dozen explicit references to genitalia. They swear with purpose, not simply for shock value.

I’m no rap historian, but I also got the impression a lot of later acts were inspired by their work. Listening to the heavy thump and downward cascade of “Gold” I found myself thinking of modern acts like Run the Jewels’ (who have a song called “Stay Gold” on their latest album). Nice & Smooth songs are slower don’t hit as hard but you can see the seeds of what would come later. Or maybe I’m just fooling myself because both songs feature rhymes about gold.

The album is slightly long at 15 songs and 52 minutes, but only slightly and there is enough ear candy sprinkled throughout that you don’t mind one or two bits of filler. Listening to this record I realized two things. First, they should have been more famous. Second, regardless of how famous they are, I need to put this on more often.

Best tracks: Perfect Harmony, No Delayin’, Funky For You, Hit Me, Dope Not Hype, Nice & Smooth, Dope on a Rope

CD Odyssey Disc 1079: Portugal. The Man

I didn’t sleep great last night and I’ve had a bit of bad news of late as well. Fortunately, the Odyssey supplied me with a record designed to lighten my mood.

Disc 1079 is…Woodstock

Artist: Portugal. The Man

Yes, that period in the title is not a typo. How silly. So silly, that I decided to see if there was some compelling reason why they ended up with this name. Here’s what I found on Wikipedia:

“The band's name is based on the idea of David Bowie's "bigger than life" fame. They wanted the band to have a bigger than life feel but didn't want to name it after one of their members. "A country is a group of people," guitar player and vocalist John Gourley explains. "With Portugal, it just ended up being the first country that came to mind. The band's name is 'Portugal'. The period is stating that, and 'The Man' states that it's just one person." The name has more personal meaning as well: Portugal. The Man was going to be the name of a book that Gourley had planned to write about his father and his many adventures.”

Nope – that is a silly reason after all. The effort to twist it into multiple reasons (including a gratuitous appeal to authority through invoking Bowie) just makes it all the more forced and awkward.

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? A Rolls Royce burns away merrily. I find this cover strangely beautiful but maybe that’s just because I’m not much of a Rolls Royce fan.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of this album and decided to check it out. I was surprised to find I liked it.

How It Stacks Up:  Portugal. The Man have eight studio albums but I’ve only got this one so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars

Look at me, everyone: I’ve got some radio friendly pop in my collection! Don’t panic, though, I wasn’t listening to the radio. As noted above, this was just me reading a review and investigating from there.

The quintessence of success for radio friendly pop is a bona fide hit, and “Woodstock” has one in “Feel it Still.” This song is a sing-a-long earworm that is compelling as hell, and likely the reason I first took an interest in the album. “Feel It Still” checks off all the boxes, with a danceable back beat, a catchy hook, an appeal to shared experience (they pay homage to 1966 and 1986 in the chorus) and a bunch of slick production that keeps your ear interested as the song basically explores more and more ways to dress up the same catchy hook. It would’ve made me mad but damn, that’s a catchy hook.

All the songs on “Woodstock” are catchy, particularly “Rich Friends” which ticks all the boxes that “Feel It Still” ticks, and should’ve been their next single. Instead they went with “Live in the Moment”, a song for the “drunk and swaying” portion of a night out. It’s OK, but it doesn’t have the empty/ironic enthusiasm of “Rich Friends”.

This album was a crash course for me in the inner workings of Hitsville USA, and how to make one. There are lots of handclaps – because who doesn’t love handclaps? When there aren’t handclaps there is well-placed percussion that sounds an awful lot like handclaps. Feel free to clap along when listening – it’s fun!

The drums and bass dominate the mix, so it is easy to shake your booty in time to the beat, and that’s fun too. Alternatively you can be a melody dancer like me, and sway along to lead singer John Gourley’s vocals while artfully extending your arms in various directions. Gourley sings high and effortless, like a slightly more indie Adam Levine that you can admit you like and not feel old.

Gourley’s vocals are powerful and alluring and he has a great talent for phrasing. He slips right into a pocket that accentuates the beats rather than competing with them. This being radio-friendly pop, these vocals are subjected to every effect ever dreamed up on a soundboard: echoes, squawk box, distortion, and reverb are all present to name just a few. Ordinarily this would drive me nuts, but Portugal. The Man (sic) does it so well I found myself just grooving along and having a good time.

Did I learn a lot from this record? Not really. “Woodstock” is about as good as radio pop gets, but unfortunately here on the CD Odyssey that can only rate it 3 stars. Nevertheless, it’s a good time, the songs are thoughtfully constructed and there are no horrifying clunkers. It’s a good record to put on before you head out to an event where there’ll be a bunch of people you don’t know (I just did this a few weeks ago) because it gets you up and feeling social. Hell, you might even hear it when you get there; that “Feel It Still” song is everywhere lately. Even here.

Best tracks: Easy Tiger, Feel It Still, Rich Friends, Tidal Wave

CD Odyssey Disc 1078: Iron Maiden

People sometimes ask me how I come up with new music to listen to, since I don’t listen to the radio and don’t have any of those fancy new streaming services.

I’m lucky in that I have a bunch of musically inclined friends and we are always exchanging recommendations and sharing our latest finds. I also read a lot of music reviews. Beyond that the key is to be open minded and never miss an opportunity. If you hear a song in a store that you like, ask the clerk what it is. If you’re at a party and you meet someone for the first time don’t open with the tired old yawner “what do you do for a living” – ask them instead what their latest musical discovery is.

Friday night I exchanged recommendations with server at the pub and yesterday I did the same thing with my brunch server. Once it is clear you’re talking to another music fan you might as well see what they like. There’s a lot of music out there, and to discover the best stuff you’re going to need help.

Disc 1078 is…The Number of the Beast

Artist: Iron Maiden

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? Ever-present Iron Maiden mascot “Eddie” is controlled by the devil, but an even bigger Eddie controls that same devil with bloody marionette strings. Plus we have fire, lightning, and the storm clouds of hell. This cover offended all manner of mothers back in the early eighties, although mine weathered it pretty well, probably going no farther than a “oh, Virgil – that awful!” when my brother showed it to her.

How I Came To Know It: Everyone who was a metal fan in the eighties knew this album, and in my home town it blared out of muscle cars, house parties and ghetto blasters at every turn. The CD version has been in my collection as long as I can remember and still gives me fond memories of my teenage years.

How It Stacks Up:  I have been on a bit of a buying spree with Iron Maiden albums of late and now have 11. “The Number of the Beast” comes in at the lofty position of #2, narrowly beating out “Piece of Mind” (reviewed way back at Disc 2) and just behind “Powerslave” (reviewed at Disc 720).

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

“The Number of the Beast” is frequently espoused as Iron Maiden’s greatest record, and while for me it falls short of “Powerslave” it is still an amazing accomplishment.

The record is Maiden at their most fast and furious, with less emphasis on the long epic tracks of albums like “Piece of Mind” or their later work. Sure three of the eight songs exceed six minutes but trust me when I tell you that for Maiden that is practically radio friendly.

A case in point is the opening track “Invaders” which kicks off with a frantic drum line from Clive Barr (who would be replaced by Nicko McBrain later that year). Even after Barr’s drum punches you to start the song there is no respite, as the tune races forward at the front of the beat. The effect makes you feel like you have no time to breathe, not unlike the Viking invaders the song depicts.

Maiden have a great feel for how to make a record feel cohesive, and the speed metal of “Invaders” is followed by the doom-filled “Children of the Damned,” its slow menacing guitar riff the perfect foil after the audio assault of the previous track.

This album features two of Maiden’s most iconic songs. The title track and “Run to the Hills” both showcase Bruce Dickinson’s powerhouse, operatic vocals. Even though there is no keeping up with Dickinson as he soars into the chorus of “Run to the Hills” it doesn’t stop you from trying. Over the years the song has been sadly overplayed, but I still can’t resist it when it comes on, with its galloping beat, anthemic power chords and a tight and well-structured guitar solo. As for “The Number of the Beast” I can honestly say it scared me a little as a kid.

For some reason my Walkman thought “Hallowed Be Thy Name” was called “Total Eclipse” which was weird and had me temporarily nervous it was going to be some weird Bonnie Tyler cover. That would have been cool, but fortunately it was the right song – covering the cheerful topic of waiting to be hanged. I recently watched a video of two guys reviewing this song after hearing it for the first time and it gave me a new appreciation for Iron Maiden’s strong songwriting. How these guys could sit and head-bob and marvel at the song’s construction and then still decide they didn’t have room for it on their playlist was beyond me. Get a device with more memory!

As is tradition with an Iron Maiden album, there are plenty of historical and art references. We have the aforementioned Viking invaders of "Invaders", “Run to the Hills” telling the story of First Nations being attacked by Europeans, and “The Prisoner” is about the old sixties TV show of the same name.

One song I could have lived without was “22, Acacia Avenue” a song about going to visit a prostitute that has not aged well. The song revisits the character of “Charlotte the Harlot” off of their debut album but doesn’t add anything and isn’t as good a song either. The appeal to Charlotte to live a better life rings hollow surrounded as it is by the viewpoint of her lustful clients. When the protagonist tells Charlotte “you’re packing your bags, you’re coming with me” it feels less like a rescue and more like an abduction.

Despite this one misstep, “Number of the Beast” has earned its reputation as one of metal’s most iconic records and 35 years later it still sounds fresh and powerful.

Best tracks: Invaders, Children of the Damned, the Number of the Beast, Run to the Hills, Hallowed Be Thy Name