CD Odyssey Disc 1164: The Beaches

I had a lovely Sunday afternoon reading and listening to music. I’ve still got a backlog of a little over new (to me) albums and every Sunday I can I sit and give those records the attention they deserve. This next album is also from the new (to me) section as well.

Disc 1164 is… Self-Titled

Artist: The Beaches

Year of Release: 2013

What’s up with the Cover? I’m a negative beach, I’m a negative beach, I’m a negative beach…with a crow.

Sometimes the joke is for everyone. Sometimes, it’s for only a few.

How I Came To Know It: Earlier this year my friend Nick discovered the Beaches. I bought this album (plus their other two EPs) at the merch table at the show.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Beaches albums. One is full length (“The Late Show” reviewed at Disc 1131), plus this one and one other EP, 2014’s “Heights”. “The Late Show” sort of stands on its own, but of the two EPs, this one is the best.

Ratings: 4 stars

Lately I’ve needed a jolt of energy, and the furious and fun debut EP from all-Canadian hard rock band “The Beaches” was exactly the tonic the doctor ordered.

The Beaches are a breath of fresh and ion-charged air dropping lightning bolt rock riffs into songs that have hooks so infectious they make pop songs jealous. While the songs on their eponymous EP have a less polished feel than the Beaches’ more recent releases these are still incredibly catchy songs.

Just as importantly, there is an edge at the core of the Beaches that gives their music heft. These are not pop starlets, these are rock stars. If in 2013 the world didn’t know it yet, you can tell by the way they play that these four women did. More importantly, they have the talent throughout the lineup to back that confidence up.

So what are these songs about? I am often a lyrics guy, but I didn’t care that much on this record; I just enjoyed rocking out. When I did tune in to the words, I heard songs about rebellion, youth and a band with a willingness to see through their own bullshit. It makes for songs that are pure joy on the surface, but have an emotional depth that makes them better on each listen.

All the tracks are good, but I like the heavy thud and rebellious reverb of “Loner.” On the surface the band poses a lot of theories about who they are, including lines like:

“Maybe I'm a stoner, maybe I'm a loner

Maybe I'm cross, maybe I'm lost

Maybe I'm a loser, maybe I'm a keener

Maybe I'm gone”

But what you really take away is not self-loathing, but rather a deeper message that says, “think what you want, jackass – I define myself.” Hmmm…I guess that applies to over-wise bloggers as well. I sure hope it does.

On “Youth Lament” they strip down the production and sing about the enormous weight we feel when we’re young. Everything can be harder then, because you haven’t done it before. It’s a song that simultaneously showcases their own vulnerability, and provides succor for those who need it. The Beaches provide comfort, singing:

“It's only the beginning

The start has just been triggered

The bells they keep on ringing

You're part of a neverending story

Your lines have not been written

One day you'll see the morning

But you're young.”

Hearing these lines I’m not sure if lead singer Jordan Miller is singing them to her audience, or herself – probably a bit of both.

There is the air of Canadian rock royalty about this band. “The Late Show” was produced by Metric front-woman Emily Haines and this EP was produced by “Our Lady Peace” singer Raine Maida. Ordinarily this would offend my iconoclastic sensibilities (I don’t even like “Our Lady Peace”). However I can’t muster any outrage because “The Beaches” are just that good. It is early days, but I expect they could one day be bigger than both their patrons. If they aren’t, then it will just be more proof of the arbitrary nature of fame in the music world. If they are then hey – finally a little justice and fairness in a world that needs more of both.

So I wish these guys well, even as I wait impatiently for what they’re going to do next.

Best tracks: Loner, Boy Wonder, Youth Lament, Kids

CD Odyssey Disc 1163: Andrew Combs

I’m fresh from a weekend full of fun activity, including a night spent with friends discovering music. The big discovery for me this time around was a German hard rock band called Wucan that was brought over by my friend Ross. I’ve given them a deep dive on Bandcamp for the last couple of days and it is fair to say there is room on shelf for their albums, should I ever find them.

But on to an artist I discovered all on my own.

Disc 1163 is… Canyons of my Mind

Artist: Andrew Combs

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Someone should have told Andrew Combs this is a river, not a canyon. Maybe it is a canyon…in his mind. Get it? Get it?

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of this album on Paste Magazine and decided to check it out. I discover a lot of my music from just paying attention to what’s new and not being afraid to check it out.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Andrew Combs albums. Of the two, “Canyons of my Mind” is second.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

The last time I reviewed an Andrew Combs album (“All These Dreams” at Disc 1028) it started off rough but slowly won me over. For this reason I gave “Canyons of My Mind multiple listens over the last four days hoping for the same impact. Alas, it was not to be.

The same elements are there - a mix of country, folk and rock sensibilities – but the songs didn’t resonate as strongly as a whole. Combs’ vocals, which previously reminded me favourably of Jim Cuddy, now seemed to lack the same power to deliver the strong emotional messages of the songs. His Gordon Lightfood jangle was still there as well, but lost in the back of the mix.

This is a shame, because Combs is a gifted songwriter. The tracks are heartfelt, with a pretty even mix of tradition and innovation. Unfortunately, I drifted in and out of the mindful state you need to be in to appreciate them. They’d catch me briefly, and then they’d slip back again into the background, like an a.m. radio track playing low on the car stereo while you’re busy trying to find an address.

Part of this was all the lush production that wouldn’t let my ear settle into the tune. This was part of “All These Dreams” as well, but here it is even more pronounced. I need a little more quiet for the beauty to sneak in.

That isn’t to say there aren’t great tracks here. The haunting “Hazel” is the best song on either album, in fact. It is a song about a pale and awkward girl who is nevertheless admired from afar by the narrator. Combs’ vocals are great here as well, climbing into a pining falsetto as he sings the name of his obsession. Combs is also strong on “Lauralee”, a song with a seventies country croon mixed in with some more of that a.m. radio pop. Songs named after women seem to bring the best out in him.

“Rose Coloured Blues” has that Gordon Lightfoot feel I liked on “All These Dreams” but the song didn’t work its way into my heart like his previous efforts. The song has a rambling beat, but it was more late seventies/early eighties fuzzy Lightfoot rather than early hippy folkster Lightfoot. I like both Lightfoots, but if you’re going to emulate one, the safe money is on the hippy version.

Combs also tackles political subjects, singing about environmental destruction on “Dirty Rain” and America’s current president on “Bourgeois King” but neither song is his best effort. They are important topics but it feels like Combs was pushing too hard to make his point. Subtlety can be as important in art as message.

While there are no songs on “Canyons of My Mind” that are terrible, separating them from one another was hard at times, and I got lost in non-musical thoughts many times. I could ascribe that to having a lot on my mind but I always have a lot on my mind. Great albums can always seize your attention.

Instead I think it is the thick production that is like trying to sail on a sea of cream; sweet, thick and hard to make any headway. At his best, Combs draws you in with this effect, but here I drifted away too many times to enjoy the journey.

Best tracks: Hazel, Lauralee, Silk Flowers

CD Odyssey Disc 1162: First Aid Kit

Mark Knopfler once sang “sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug”. This week I feel like the bug. It hasn’t all been bad though. I’ve been getting free bus rides on a new “100% electric” bus the city has been trying out and my walks home have been filled with great weather and good music.

Disc 1162 is… Ruins

Artist: First Aid Kit

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? Klara and Johanna Soderberg get their Giant Heads on. The problem with a duo is that a Giant Head cover can never reach its full potential; there are just too many heads to account for. Ah well, at least they have attractive heads.

How I Came To Know It: This album was just me buying their new album when it came out – I was already hooked by their earlier work

How It Stacks Up:  I have four First Aid Kit albums and while I really liked “Ruins” competition is stiff. I rank it at #3.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

I don’t know where ‘indie’ stops and ‘popular’ starts, but the single “Fireworks” from “Ruins” has 2.1 million Youtube hits in six months, so I would say they’ve arrived.

Actually, sisters Klara and Johanna Soderberg (aka First Aid Kit) arrived many years prior with a song about Emmylou Harris (“Emmylou”). This was how I first discovered them, along with millions of other people. It is hard to believe that song is now six years old; I guess time flies when you are making great music.

“Ruins” continues their incredible run through the decade. It is their slickest album yet, with a more lush sound, and denser production than on previous records. I like them better stripped down, but their vocals are easily powerful enough to soar above the mix when the moment calls for it and there is still plenty of rustic guitar strumming for us purists.

The record works in organ and a pop sensibility that acknowledges a larger audience, but set to songs that have good folk bones and will offend only the most close-minded of purists. “Rebel Heart” could almost be dream pop if it weren’t for that undercurrent hard rock. Like early Heart, it is a song dressed up like it is going to a Ren Fair but with a heart of rock and roll that is ready to party when it gets there.

Above it all soars the vocals of both women, but in particular Klara Soderberg who matches the power of Nancy Wilson with the angelic tone of Linda Ronstadt. Sister Johanna is no slouch either and when they sing in harmony (which they do often) their voices play off each other like they were born to it. I suppose they were.

While the album successfully explores dream-pop on “Rebel Heart” and the more conventional kind of pop on “It’s a Shame” First Aid Kit find time to honour their musical influences as well. “Postcard” is an old seventies swing-time country song, complete with pedal steel and a delivery that would make Emmylou herself proud.

I’ve mentioned a lot of old school greats, but this isn’t because First Aid Kit is derivative, it is because they have a good sense of musical history. You never feel like they are standing on the shoulders of giants, they’re standing beside them.

The songs have melodies that slowly swell and drop and make you feel like you are being partnered through a Viennese Waltz by a ballroom champion. At times it walks up to the edge of schmaltz, but the power of the vocals and heartfelt delivery keep things real.

As its title suggests, “Ruins” is a record that explores a lot of rough patches and the title track hits the hardest of all. Here is a grade-A song of regret, where that vocal swell is a bit faster, like a light chop on the water. It is still liquid beauty, but there is a hint of distress, underscored with lyrics like:

“I tried to hold on to some kind of dignity
Too long I waded through a vast and endless sea
Thinking, I could find the secret there within

But I gave up, didn't I? It seemed the only way”

The song rocks back and forth, like it is trying to comfort you even as it lays out a collapse of confidence. When the Soderberg’s hit that high harmony you’re reminded of every disappointment you’ve ever had. It’s strangely freeing.

The album ends with the stripped down “Nothing Has To Be True” that continues the theme of regret and ends the record on a bit of a down note. But despite the lyrics the underlying tune has a triumphant progression, like just getting real with yourself is the first step on the road to redemption.

There are a couple of songs (including “Nothing Has To Be True”) which have long musical trails on them after it feels like they should have resolved, but it is short enough (and the songs good enough) that you forgive the excess. There are also moments where I would have preferred slightly less ambient sound and a bit more rawness, but that is more personal preference.

Overall, this is a great record by a band that has yet to take a misstep.

Best tracks: Rebel Heart, It’s a Shame, My Wild Sweet Love, Ruins, Nothing Has to Be True

CD Odyssey Disc 1161: Warren Zevon

Before the next music review, a quick word on bus etiquette. I don’t expect much from bus etiquette. This is transit that costs a lowly $2.50 and can take you 30 kilometers or more on a single ticket – you get what you pay for.

At the same time, $2.50 also only buys you one seat – not a license to try to secure two or three by getting all passive aggressive. If you are sitting on the back bench of the bus and you’re the first one back there, pick a window (let’s call that seat #1. If you’re second, pick the other window (#5) so that those coming in third can have seat #3 in the middle. People who start out in Seats 2 and 4 don’t do it by accident; they’re trying to have three seats to themselves by making the window inaccessible and the middle seat less appealing. In a word, it is uncool and selfish. Stop it.

OK – on with the review.

Disc 1160 is… Self-Titled

Artist: Warren Zevon

Year of Release: 1976

What’s up with the Cover? This looks a lot like me getting ready for a night on the town. What’s that you say? Those fashions are from 1976? Like that would ever stop me.

How I Came To Know It: Once my friend Randall put me onto Warren Zevon I fell pretty hard. This album was just part of me drilling through the best parts of his collection, which is most of it.

How It Stacks Up:  I have ten Warren Zevon albums, which is all but two of them. The ten I have are the best ten, and of these I rank this one #3.

Ratings: 4 stars

Warren Zevon’s eponymously-titled 1976 record was not technically his first release, but it feels like the moment he arrived. He is still two years away from his masterpiece “Excitable Boy” but all the ingredients are now coming together.

Zevon has a natural talent for writing a timeless pop melody, and with varying production most of the songs on “Warren Zevon” could be hits in any decade from the fifties to the present day. It feels like a crime that that only one ever was and it wasn’t even Zevon singing. “Poor Poor Pitiful Me” was a Linda Ronstadt cover. Ronstadt sang the hell out of that song like the dark and sexy angel she is, but it still leaves me feeling bad for Zevon, laboring so long in the shadows.

Zevon wasn’t in the shadows to his fellow artists, however. This album is absolutely packed with guest appearances of music royalty: Jackson Browne, Phil Everly, Bonnie Raitt, two Eagles, and a couple members of Fleetwood Mac all lend their talents. OK, one of the Eagles was Glen Frey, but still…

However big these names are, they are still the guests and this is Zevon’s show. He wrote every track and while there are some pretty harmonies and guitar licks Zevon’s rich tone leads every song and it his piano holding it all together.

I particularly like the piano on “Frank and Jesse James,” a romanticized retelling of the famed outlaws. Zevon plays it with a jaunty bounce that evokes an old west saloon. Maybe it is the iconoclast in me, but as a kid I was always drawn to stories of old west outlaws and this is as fine a telling of the James Brother’s story as you’ll hear.

Elsewhere Zevon explores his own rather unique childhood with “Mama Couldn’t Be Persuaded” (Warren’s father was a bit of a gambler and ne’er-do-well). This could have been dark, but he tells the tale with an upbeat tempo that makes you want to get up and dance. It feels more like a musical – like the way the Von Trapp’s flee the Nazis with a song in their heart, only with more blackjack.

This song fades into the wistful and worldly-wise “Backs Turned Looking Down the Path” a song that in a single image captures the carefree nature of youth and the calm acceptance of youth.

Stylistically, Zevon incorporates western music, R&B, pop, and Latin with equal skill, knowing just what each song needs to achieve its potential.

It was fun to hear “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead” as a song, given I evoked that notion as my personal slogan all the way into my mid-thirties. Now in my late forties I’ve come to appreciate a good nap more than I thought I ever would. Even so it is fun to be reminded of the glory of burning bright and heavy-lidded through your youth. If I could go back I’d probably try to get more sleep, but anyone who says youth is wasted on the young is just jealous. Only the young can truly enjoy what they they’ve got because they’re the only ones that don’t realize how precious it is. That lack of perspective is liberating.

Zevon was a relatively old 29 when he released this record, but he’s still young enough (or reckless enough) to understand youthful vigour. The additional infusion of a little perspective doesn’t blunt his enthusiasm, it just makes him appreciate it more and creates a record that walks the perfect line between adventure and wisdom, exploring how there is a bit of each in the other along the way.

Best tracks: Frank and Jesse James, Mama Couldn’t be Persuaded, Backs Turned Looking Down the Path, Poor Poor Pitiful Me, Mohammed’s Radio, Carmelita

CD Odyssey Disc 1160: Dessa

I picked this next album out of the new (to me) section of my CD collection in anticipation of seeing Dessa in concert at the Philips Backyard Weekender. A review of that show follows the album review below.

Disc 1160 is… Chime

Artist: Dessa

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? Dessa’s giant head, casting out-of-phase reflections of some kind. Like Dessa, this cover is imbued with a lot of energy.

How I Came To Know It: The boring way – I read a review of this record and decided to check it out. I really liked a couple of the singles and before long, I was hooked.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three albums by Minneapolis rapper Dessa. Of those three, “Chime” comes in at #1.

Ratings: 4 stars

Modern music is infused with way too much pop-crossed hip hop, but listening to “Chime” reminds me that even an over-mined art form will still yield a gem every now and then. Every Dessa album is such a gem, but “Chime” is her shiniest yet.

When she feels like it, Dessa can write some pretty glossy pop songs; the kind of music that should be making her millions if only she wouldn’t insist on being so thoughtful and provocative. Radio pop cannot currently abide this, but at least Dessa shows that there is hope for the future.

On “Chime” pop rears its surprisingly non-ugly head on most of the songs, with catchy hooks in the chorus that are original compositions rather than wholesale samples from the ghosts of hits past. With the exception of the saccharine “Boy Crazy” I liked them all and most have something important to say as well. Sometimes they are intensely personal as with “Good Grief” and sometimes they are intensely political as with “Fire Drills” but they always have something to say.

“Fire Drills” is the star of the album; a pointed song that explores unfair standards we apply to women’s sexuality. Dessa’s B.A. in Philosophy is put to good use as she builds the argument that women are taught to be careful, but only because society is set up to present them with threats. I could say more, but she says it better:

“We don’t say, ‘Go out and be brave’

Nah, we say ‘Be careful, stay safe’

In any given instance that don’t hurt

But it sinks in like stilettos in soft earth,

Like the big win is a day

Without an incident

I beg to differ with it

I think a woman’s worth

I think that she deserves

A better line of work

Than motherfucking vigilance.”

For Dessa, walking home late is like running a fire drill, sticking to safe plan and hoping nothing bad is going to happen and she refused to accept that safe is good enough.

“Chime” is multifaceted, and in addition to pop hooks too good for radio, and unapologetic social commentary she incorporates classical piano, strings and hints of electronica. All of this is fused with a smooth modern production that suggests attention to detail in the studio. In their pure form many of the influences tend to put me off, but Dessa does such a good job of blending them into something new and compelling.

Dessa’s rap has a smooth lyrical flow that slips in and out of the beat without ever losing it. “5 out of 6” and “Fire Drills” are songs with messages; challenges to her detractors and to society at large that are the highlights of the record, but I also have a soft spot for a little 45 second number near the end called “Shrimp.” “Shrimp” is Dessa showing off her mad skills, but it is also self-deprecating and fun, with lines like:

“Dolled up I’m the baddest person

Still like backpacks over purses

Hate that Qs are 2s in cursive

Talk real fast when I get nervous

Rap real fast, but that’s on purpose.”

It makes me wish I could pal around with her for an afternoon. The thought also makes me a little nervous knowing that she’d be quick and very capable at calling me on my bullshit.

There is a bit of “not famous yet” through the album but it doesn’t feel resentful. Dessa wears her indie-rap status as a badge of honour, or as she wryly puts it “I’m tryna get rich slow.” For all that, to assume Dessa is happy to settle, you’d be wrong. This cocktail of humour, activism and ambition is best summed up with the final lines of “Shrimp”:

“Always a bridesmaid

Never an ASTRONAUT!”

If Dessa is a bridesmaid, she’s one that comes to the wedding wearing whatever the hell she wants and who delivers the speech at the reception that no one wants to follow.

Best tracks: Ride, 5 out of 6, Fire Drills, Velodrome, Good Grief, Shrimp

The Concert: July 22, 2018 at the Phillips Brewery Backyard Weekender – Victoria

I am not a festival person. I don’t like the outdoor venues, I’m nervous about the sound quality and I always imagine unpleasant encounters with drunken rubes. However, I also knew that this was easily the best chance I was going to have to see Dessa live, and so I bit the bullet and went.

All of my festival fears were unfounded. The venue was clean and welcoming, the people were friendly (there was a random dude spritzing water on people in the beer lineup but I think given the heat he saw this as a public service). Even the sound quality was top shelf.

I went to the show with my friend Amanda, and we arrived to find it fairly quiet. I suspect the combination of last weekend’s “Rock the Shores” event and it being a Sunday night combined to make the event a little less populated than it otherwise might have been. I had been dreading being pressed in with the sweaty masses, so the smaller audience suited me well.

There were seven different bands playing the Backyarder on Sunday, but I only wanted to see Dessa and so we arrived about 30 minutes before she started. We did catch the end of a hip hop band called “The Sorority” which made me wish I had come earlier. These three gals had a cool flow and a fun, party-time energy. We enjoyed the last couple songs of their set and then grabbed a couple of beers and prepared for Dessa.

We were not disappointed. Dessa commanded the stage with a powerful presence that immediately drew the crowd in. When she started, there might have been thirty people in the audience, and by the time she was done an hour later a few hundred had gathered.

Dessa had a good mix of banter and music. Even when she was just talking, her natural talent made it feel like a spoken word performance all its own. The songs were a strong mix of about 2/3 her new album and 1/3 earlier material, all of it well chosen to showcase both her pop and rap sides equally well.

Dessa’s fantastic skills on the mic were on full display, as she shifted from hard core rapper to pop crooner and back again with an easy grace. I suspect these are complicated songs to perform live but she made it seem not only easy, but a whole lot of fun.

While she is clearly the star of the show, Dessa deftly brings her backing band into the spotlight at every opportunity. In particular the drummer is amazing, and to my shame I can neither remember his name nor find it on the interwebs. Her playful exchanges with him are filled with mock competitiveness but what really comes across is that there is a lot of love there.

For her final two tracks she climbed down off the stage and into the audience to sing “in the round”. On stage she was maybe 20 feet from me, and once she came down to ground level she was even closer. It was pretty awesome.

After the show, Dessa mingled with the crown and I was able to meet her. In the past I have been totally flustered meeting some of my musical idols (see: Lindi Ortega, Lera Lynn) but Dessa seemed easygoing and approachable and I think I was able to communicate my love for her music in a reasonably intelligible way for a change. She even gave me a fist bump and then graciously posed for a picture!

All photos by Amanda who not only kept me company but ensured I would not be “lonely old guy sipping his beer alone”. Thanks, Amanda! After the show we got an extra pint at the Churchill where we were served by a Dessa lookalike named Reed Steele, who I am pretty sure is a superhero who just tends bar to hide her secret identity. All in all, a pretty fine summer Sunday afternoon.

CD Odyssey Disc 1159: Blue Oyster Cult

I’m back a bit late from a delightful night playing board games, but determined to get in another music review before I hit the hay. Here it is!

Disc 1159 is… The Revolution by Night

Artist: Blue Oyster Cult

Year of Release: 1983

What’s up with the Cover? A lonely stretch of highway is lit by futuristic lampposts…and by frickin’ lightning bolts! As ever the game with a Blue Oyster Cult album cover is to find their symbol hidden somewhere in the art.

How I Came To Know It: I knew this album since my brother bought it back in 1983.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 11 of Blue Oyster Cult’s studio albums. In a very strong field, “The Revolution by Night” comes in at #10.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

The year before “The Revolution by Night” came out Blue Oyster Cult’s lead guitarist Buck Dharma had taken a short hiatus and recorded a solo project. That record (reviewed back at Disc 1123) had a lot of eighties influences and Buck took those back to the band upon his return.

While “The Revolution by Night” still showcases some solid songwriting, this eighties production takes some of the punch out of the songs. Heavy synth sound and fuzz drown down Dharma’s guitar solos and everything feels a little distant. Distant is not what you want in progressive hard rock but even turning the volume up 20% higher I still found  it hard to draw much thump out of these songs.

Fortunately, there are songs so glorious that no amount of fuzz can hold them back, including the opening track. “Take Me Away” features a killer guitar riff, and a chugging powerful rhythm. Also, it features a plea to be abducted by aliens so, you know, standard Blue Oyster Cult fare.

“Shadow of California” has a majestic dread, including some solid drumming from newcomer Rick Downey (the song was co-written by ex-Alice Cooper drummer Neal Smith so drumming is it is no surprise drumming is a big part of the song). Downey plays well but the record is definitely missing a bit of magic without Albert Bouchard on the kit. BOC’s original lineup had a special alchemy, and any missing member affects the whole.

Still, with its hell-choir backing vocals and haunted-abbey organ playing, “Shadow of California” is the personification of foreboding.  You just know something frightening is coming. It isn’t clear what – just some buried evil at the cloverleaf junction. I suspect vampires. With a BOC song, vampires are always a good bet. But I digress…

“Feel the Thunder” is another haunted motorcycle song akin to “Golden Age of Leather” (off 1977’s “Spectres”) but it isn’t as good and again, the production cuts into the heaviness of the song.

Every now and then the eighties production is put to good use. “Shooting Shark” has an eighties drum sound, mixed well with organ and Buck Dharma’s high and airy vocals. It is all a bit light, but it works up there in the wispy cirrus. This song is co-written by Dharma and Patti Smith, and their talents mesh well. Dharma is the hopeless romantic, and Smith lends an element of carnival excess, but both believe in magic and it shows. Amid its seven-plus minutes of excess and atmosphere even the saxophone solo is passable, although I think I would have preferred Dharma’s guitar at that moment.

This record also sees BOC following on their (relative) commercial success of “Fire of Unknown Origin.” All that stadium rock may have gone a little to their heads on “Let Go”. As a kid, I thought “Let Go” was the most awesome anthem ever, as I pumped my fist to:

“B…O…C

You can be whatever you wanna be

You got the power, we got the key

Yeah, B…O…C”

OK, it’s silly but back in the day those lyrics seemed infused with sorcerous power, like I could summon the band into the living room just by singing along. Now the whole thing seems rather silly. I won’t say it is a good song, but it is a good memory and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that under all that silliness a kernel of that old magic remains every time I hear it. For 3:25 I felt like I was part of the band.

The album ends with a Joe Bouchard vocal on “Light Years of Love.” Bouchard is the weakest singer, but he does a good job here. In fact, until I looked it up I just assumed it was Buck Dharma. The song has some crazy flamenco guitar playing inexplicably mixed in with Bowie-like space opera effects and lyrics full of astronomical imagery. It is wild and wacky and more than a little cheesy, but it’s done well if you give it a chance.

Even though “The Revolution By Night” is the beginning of BOC’s fracturing as a band, it is fascinating to hear their sound still evolving. The production notes are mostly off, but the songs are still vibrant and ambitious. There were plenty of ghosts, vampires and space aliens to keep the 13-year old me happy when I first heard it, and years later I still find magic in this record.

Best tracks: Take Me Away, Shooting Shark, Shadow of California, Light Years of Love

CD Odyssey Disc 1158: Neil Young

Hello, gentle readers! My apologies for my extended absence – I have been out of town on a mini-holiday. I took a road trip and caught up with old friends, visited with family and even found time (via two ferry rides) to read and listen to music. Along the way I found the time to appreciate this next album as well.

Disc 1158 is… Hitchhiker

Artist: Neil Young

Year of Release: 2017 but with music originally recorded in 1976

What’s up with the Cover? Sunset and evening star and one clear call for Neil – keep sharing his talent with the world.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve known Neil Young for years and while I don’t buy everything he does I always keep an ear to the ground for new releases. This one garnered a lot of favourable reviews and so I checked it out on Youtube and liked what I heard.

How It Stacks Up:  This is one of 19 Neil Young albums I own (I have parted company with two others as well). It creates a quandary. On the one hand, most of these songs appear on other albums, so it has a “Greatest Hits” feel to it. On the other hand, it was supposed to be released in 1976 in this format, so it is kind of a true record on its own merits as well. It was the Soulless Record Execs that decided it shouldn’t be released in 1976 so let’s retroactively side with Neil and rank it as if they had. I rank it …eighth.

Ratings: 4 stars

Neil Young has been through many phases in his long career. He’s been in a folk band, a solo folk artist, a rocker, a rockabilly, and done more than a little experimentation in soundscapes and feedback. “Hitchhiker” shows that if you strip it all down to just Neil on a single acoustic guitar you might hear something a little quieter, but it will be no less compelling. If anything, it adds intimacy to some of his finest work.

When “Hitchhiker” was rejected in 1976, it didn’t stop Young. Instead from 1977-1980 he released seven of the ten songs on this collection on other records, albeit with a bit more production. Most of those records are some of Neil Young’s best, and the tracks seeded on them from his 1976 rejection are often core to their success.

Hearing them stripped down to just Neil warbling away into a single microphone and strumming his old guitar feels like a backstage pass to the mid-seventies. Neil’s playing is as great as ever. He has a natural feel for when to gently brush a chord and when to hit it hard. The effect creates a lot of layers out of a single instrument, and is raw without ever feeling sloppy.

Do these songs sound better in this ‘demo’ style? No, but they don’t sound worse either. The lack of any additional instruments and minimal production really lets you appreciate the bones of the songs. This is Neil Young at a late night fire pit – just him, his guitar and whatever collection of folks is lucky enough to still be up to hear him play.

The most striking difference is on the title track “Hitchiker.” That song was not released until 2010 on Young’s electric and reverb-heavy “Le Noise” (reviewed back at Disc 403). In both cases the song has a drugged-out quality as Neil explores his journey through both life and various drug interests. Context is everything, and the juxtaposition of the older man recollecting his wild youth with electric power and the intimate acoustic delivery of the young man still immersed in it is fun to wrap your head around.

The record has two previously unreleased tracks, “Hawaii” and “Give Me Strength” and both hold up well. “Hawaii” has a dreamy drugged-out quality and “Give Me Strength” is a wistful tune about lost love. They are very different from each other but both fit well into Neil’s sound in the mid-seventies. Even better, they sound fresh and compelling even though they were first released 40 years after they were recorded.

 It would be a mistake to see the track list for “Hitchhiker” and think it is simply a rehash of a bunch of old songs. This is a cohesive album in its own right, and hearing these songs in their original stripped-down format only adds to your appreciation of them.

Best tracks: Pocahontas, Powderfinger, Hitchhiker, Human Highway

CD Odyssey Disc 1157: Birds of Chicago

I worked late then raced home only to watch my beloved Rodger Federer lose a five-setter in the quarter finals at Wimbledon. So yeah, not the greatest day.

Disc 1157 is… Real Midnight

Artist: Birds of Chicago

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? Allison Russell looking very artsy – like she’s posing for a painting or maybe on the verge of breaking into a contemporary dance routine. Actually, she’ll probably sing. That’s totally her thing.

How I Came To Know It: I read an article about them in a music magazine and decided to check them out. I liked what I heard, obviously.

How It Stacks Up:  Apparently they have a new record out this year so I’m looking forward to checking that out, but for now I have just two Birds of Chicago albums. I like them both, but I’m going to give “Real Midnight” the edge.

Ratings: 4 stars

Sometimes a great voice just will not be denied, and that’s the case with Allison Russell of Birds of Chicago. It helps to have a great supporting cast, and on “Real Midnight” she has some of the best. The record has all the talent of a collection of top flight session musicians, but the cohesiveness and ease of a bunch of friends.

Fellow vocalist and guitar player JT Nero writes all the songs on the album and his many influences are on full display. The record is at its core folk music in its arrangements, but it is so infused with southern soul and gospel that the lines blur away to nothing. This is basically a bunch of musicians who love music in all its forms, and can play it any way you want it.

JT Nero also has a solid singing voice, and on “Wild Horses” and “Time and Times” he puts his high rasp on display. He won’t blow you away, but he’s got a pretty tone and on both those tracks (and more besides) and he knows the real secret is tucking in behind the power that is Allison Russell.

Russell is a revelation. I’ve heard the title track a ton of times (there is a live clip of it on Youtube  that is a go-to for me when I need an emotional lift). Every time I hear it, it suffuses my soul with joy. Lyrically these aren’t terribly rich songs (for that, read my previous review of Anna Tivel) but the melodies are pretty and serve as a showcase for Russell’s talent.

“Real Midnight” (the song) has a slow build, climbing in and out of harmony loose harmonies but when Russell takes the wheel solo and sings:

“Kiss my shoulders, kiss my eyes

Don’t make me feel bad

Why would you do that – why….”

You think your heart is going to break. But then, just as she’s leaving you hanging with that desperate “why…” the chorus leaps in for the rescue with an inspirational “lift me up! Lift me up!” that makes you think you’re going to soar right off your seat.

“Estrella Goodbye” has a celebratory country pop filled with gospel soul. It felt like the spirit of Rhiannon Giddens was infusing it with extra power – no wait! That is Rhiannon Giddens. As if this record didn’t already have a surfeit of talent – getting Rhiannon to pitch in as a guest vocalist just feels like cheating. (Giddens also drops some dope fiddle licks on “Time and Times”).

The songs put emotion first, but despite lyrics that are generally fairly obvious in places the delivery is so perfect, and the playing so divine you don’t mind that you’ve heard it before.

Like their previous record, Birds of Chicago partially funded “Real Midnight” through Kickstarter, and key donors are thanked prominently in the CD case. That was a nice touch. It just feels right that a bunch of talented people coming together to make great music should be backed by a bunch of people who like hearing it. I encourage you to do your part and go buy a copy.

Best tracks: Dim Star of the Pillisades, Remember Wild Horses, Estrella Goodbye, Real Midnight, Time and Times, Pelicans

CD Odyssey Disc 1156: Anna Tivel

I got home today a bit worn out from it all, but that happens sometimes. I’m resilient, though, and I had a lovely record to recharge my batteries on my long walk home. Let’s talk about that, shall we?

Disc 1156 is… Small Believer

Artist: Anna Tivel

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? This could have been a Giant Head cover, but it is so dark you can only see a portion of Anna Tivel’s head. Instead, let’s call it a Caput Ingens Obscura cover, because Latin makes everything sound more fancy.

How I Came To Know It: This album was reviewed favourably in a recent copy of Penguin Eggs magazine, so I checked Tivel out on her Bandcamp site. Bandcamp is a great way to see if you like a relatively obscure artist – just remember to give them some money if you like what you hear.

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

Ratings: 4 stars

I had an opportunity on Sunday to just wander around town, and not have to be anywhere in particular. I’m an extrovert and I usually get my energy in the company of others, but I found the experience refreshing and thought-provoking. A big part of why was having the elfin lilt of Anna Tivel’s voice in my ear through it all.

Tivel is a singer-songwriter from Portland who composes intimate songs about ordinary people and their extraordinary hearts. Like every great folk singer she understands that when those small tales are told with honesty and care they become universal expressions of the human condition.

The record sounds sparse and it echoes in places. It makes you feel like you are walking down dark streets in the early morning hours with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company - or to be more precise, the thoughts of Tivel’s exquisitely drawn characters.

Tivel’s hard-scrabble characters don’t cut through the night so much as they are absorbed by it. Women flee broken relationships, sometimes looking back through tears, sometimes finding an inner peace in reconciling the good memories with the bad. Life is complicated after all, and surviving a rough patch can be celebration enough. These are stories that end unresolved. They land on the four and stick there, reminding you that long after arbitrary storybook endings, people have to pick themselves up and keep living their lives.

“Saturday Night” has a crooner quality that would be at home on some slow-moving Sinatra from the fifties, as Tivel paints the picture of that time of night when most decent folks have gone to bed, and the ones who are still awake are wrapped in thought:

“A raven’s asleep in the rafters, a stray cat circles a kill

From the basement, the tin-can laughter of a late night thrill

Tomorrow’s asleep on the front step, and yesterday dreams in the street

But in the basement apartment, a shadowy man, he just stares at the wall

He can’t sleep

And me I’m just part of the darkness, just trying to get something right

On a Saturday night”

Tivel doesn’t just sing the stories of people alone in their thoughts, she whispers to you a soft confession; she is one of them. Are you?

Tivel has a knack for capturing the fragility of otherwise hard characters. On “Riverside Hotel” a Vietnam vet sits and drinks out of a brown bag and takes what solace he can from the clang and crash of workers erecting a building across the street. On “Dark Chandelier” Tommy is a 31-year factory veteran, wandering town drunk after losing his job. “The rain coming down like a dark chandelier” as he confronts his rage:

“The heat and the rise of a burning shame

The pride in the work and the years that he gave

Just a flick of a pen, just a cold handshake

What’s a man really worth at the end of the day?”

Yet like the Riverside Hotel veteran, Tommy finds an inner strength. It may come as he lies bleeding on his lawn with sirens wailing in the distance, but it is there. Like many of her songs, Tivel ends “Dark Chandelier” with the melody unresolved, and while it creates sadness it also creates hope for what might come next. Or as Tommy quietly prays, “Don’t take me tonight, I got work to do yet.”

Tivel’s biggest challenge is that her voice is such a soft whisper. It perfectly suits the album, and makes the intimate moments even more vulnerable, but it isn’t hit-making material. This is music and poetry that requires a set of headphones and your full attention. The songs have a quietness about them that makes you fearful they’ll somehow blow away in a strong wind, if it weren’t for the conviction of Tivel’s delivery holding them in place.

When I left the house on Sunday, I’d already heard this album twice and I was prepared to listen to something else if I got tired of it. That just never happened. I listened to this quiet and dark-toned album amid the hustle and bustle of daytime city life for four days and all it ever did was enhance my calm. Because of the subtle way it steals into your heart, “Small Believer” may never be a commercial hit, but subtle beauty is no less wondrous when you take the time to appreciate it. I encourage you to do so.

Best tracks: Illinois, Saturday Night, Alleyway, Dark Chandelier, Riverside Hotel, Small Believer

CD Odyssey Disc 1155: Gang Starr

I got home very tired last night and didn’t have it in me to review my album. That’s OK because the extra day I spent listening to it made me appreciate it more.

Disc 1155 is… No More Mr. Nice Guy

Artist: Gang Starr

Year of Release: 1989

What’s up with the Cover? Two super cool dudes wearing clothes that are no longer super cool. The “white out” background is similarly of its time.

How I Came To Know It: I was just digging through Gang Starr’s discography and found this early gem. Like most other Gang Starr I’ve heard, I liked it.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Gang Starr albums, which is all of them. Of the six, “No More Mr. Nice Guy” comes in 4^th.

Ratings: 3 stars

Gang Starr’s first album is raw and uneven, but laced with plenty of tracks that hint at greatness to come. This album is just a cool beat, a couple of well-placed samples and Guru droppin’ rhymes. It isn’t the sheer brilliance of 1991’s “Step in the Arena” but it has plenty to recommend it.

Best of these is “Manifest,” a classic rap song from the golden age of rap - a time when rappers rapped about rappin’. Guru’s flow is back on the beat but still maintain a groovy energy, combining rapid-fire MF Doom style rhyme density with basic couplets that gives the song structure. The groove has a heavy jazz feel, which is an influence felt throughout the record.

If anything there is too much jazz, particularly “Jazz Music” which is an homage to the history of the style. Despite many attempted visits to the altar of jazz, I can never bring myself to worship there, so while I like the isolated samples on the record, I can’t pick up what they’re putting down on “Jazz Music.”

When they’re not rappin’ about rappin’, Gang Starr spends their time providing positive messages like staying positive (“Positivity”) and how your actions impact others (“Cause and Effect”). It is a minor miracle that it doesn’t come off as an after-school special, or public service announcement. Instead, these positive songs inspire some of the better rhymes on the record.

This call to live a mindful life is the progenitor of a lot of today’s socially conscious rap and despite the sometimes obvious messages, it remains heartfelt and real. More impressive is that Gang Starr can deliver the message without ever resorting to politics. These are universal messages about how to treat your fellow man, not surface-level complaints about politics of the day. As a result, thirty years later the songs are still fresh.

The beats are fresh as well, with some solid scratching from DJ Premier. On “DJ Premier in Deep Concentration” it feels like he’s just showing off, but you are too busy appreciating the skill to mind.

Rap was so pure in the day, and the samples employed were always repurposed in a way that made it into new art. The sample laws of the early nineties did a big disservice to rap, but in 1989 early adopters like Gang Starr were free to try whatever would work. They respected the privilege and the result is some very cool sample layers mixing funk and jazz into something new. On top of it all, Guru drops his rhymes, unhurried and confident flow. That flow has more than a few imperfect rhymes and there were times it made me cringe, but for the most part Guru’s skillful delivery makes it work.

My biggest complaint with this record is it is too long. It features 14 songs, but two are remixes (“Positivity” and “Manifest”) and neither is necessary. The remix of “Manifest” is particularly disappointing, because it pushes the vocals to the back of the mix, making your ear strain to hear it. These early beats can’t carry all that extra load, and it just felt like Guru was rapping through a tin can attached to a string.

There are a few other songs I could live without as well, but overall “No More Mr. Nice Guy” is a classic of early rap music. It isn’t the best record of its time, but it is worth your time if you like this era of the art form.

Best tracks: Manifest (original mix), Gusto, Cause and Effect, 2 Steps Ahead, Knowledge, Positivity (original mix)