CD Odyssey Disc 1195: Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile

Over the last couple of days I explored a “best of 2008” album list with limited success. I picked ten albums on the list that intrigued me and gave them a chance to wow me. I was less than wowed. I only made it through three of them and only one – James McMurtry’s “Just Us Kids” will one day end up in my collection. The experience got me thinking what my favourite 2008 albums are. Here are ten that you should check out in no particular order:

• Bonnie Prince Billy “Lie Down in the Light”
• Drive-By Truckers “Brighter than Creation is Dark”
• Frank Turner, “Love, Ire & Song”
• Hayes Carll, “Trouble in Mind”
• Imelda May, “Love Tattoo”
• Laura Marling, “Alas, I Cannot Swim”
• Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, “Dig, Lazarus Dig!!!”
• Okkervil River, “The Stand Ins”
• Pack AD, “Funeral Mixtape”
• Sera Cahoone, “Only as the Day is Long”

OK, technically that was in alphabetical order. But check them out, and while you’re at it check out that James McMurtry record – it is also good. On with the next review!

Disc 1195 is… Lotta Sea Lice

Artist: Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? The artists in question with their preferred weapons. See how all the black and white is opposite, even down to the guitar design? It’s art! Vile is even holding his guitar backward to further the mirror effect. That’s right, dear reader: to southpaws like me and Courtney, it is the rest of you who are playing backwards.

How I Came To Know It: I like Kurt Vile and I like Courtney Barnett so when they put this album out it seemed a natural winner. I bought it having heard one song.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only album they’ve put out together so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars

With its dreamlike layered sound and slowly developing songs “Lotta Sea Lice” is best enjoyed either stoned (like the National Post’s Marie-Danielle Smith explores here) or on headphones on a rainy day. I opted for the latter.

When I first saw that Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile have done an album together my immediate reaction was “of course they did!” The style of both artists - from their monotone vocal delivery to the big echoing sound of their guitars - is remarkably similar.

Listening to them play together is like hearing two awkward but thoughtful people find a friend. No more sitting in the corner of the cafeteria alone! The songs are full of raw explorations of uncertainty but it is done as if you are floating in warm water. A little duet here and there, and some complementary guitar work and suddenly you’re not so alone after all.

For the listener, the record creates a rainy day whimsy that absorbs you. The lyrics here are not terribly creative, but they have a stark honesty that perfectly matches their plain language. When on “Continental Breakfast” they throw in a funky metaphor like:

“Like better luck performin’

Telekinesis on a priestess”

Or the slightly quaint, slightly uncomfortable image of

“I was friendly with this girl,

Who insisted on touching my face”

That serves as the opener for “Untogether” the words stand out all the more; a sudden epiphany of language that then subsides into the gentle roll and pick of the guitar work.

For me the star of the record is the guitar work, particularly on the Kurt Vile numbers. His guitar is a sort of anti-siren that instead of leading you onto the rocks, just leads you out to sea where you find yourself a little lost, but chill with the experience.

While all this made for a pleasant listening experience, there were also times where the songs meandered a bit. To be fair, this sort of indie stoner rock is designed to meander, but there were times when I wanted a bit more out of the melody. At some point I wanted to stop just floating in the current and catch a wave into shore, and that isn’t what “Lotta Sea Lice” is about.

I think this music would be great to just chill out to while you are doing something else, but most of the time I think of music as an active listening experience and so for me “good when doing something else” is less of a selling feature than for some people. For all that, “Lotta Sea Lice” is a good record with some great guitar moments on it and worth a listen.

Best tracks: Over Everything, Continental Breakfast, Peepin’ Tom

CD Odyssey Disc 1194: Scorpions

I’ve been rolling a lot of hard rock and heavy metal lately. Three of the last four albums are in that genre, including this next review.

Disc 1194 is… Animal Magnetism

Artist: Scorpions

Year of Release: 1980

What’s up with the Cover? This looks like the kind of cover that would have inspired the ‘smell the glove’ jokes in Spinal Tap. The Scorpions loved to push the boundaries on their album art, and “Animal Magnetism” is no exception.

If you think this cover is offensive you should know that it was their first album in the last five that wasn't censored in the United States. Whether you hate this cover, love this cover, or just love that some people will hate this cover, I’m not keen on censorship and I’m glad one of their covers was finally left alone.

How I Came To Know It: Like a lot of Canadians my age, I only really knew the Scorpions from 1982’s “Blackout” forward. My buddy Spence introduced me to several earlier Scorpions albums over the last few years, and this was one of my favourites.

How It Stacks Up:  The last time I rolled the Scorpions (February 2015) I only had three of their albums. Thanks to Spence’s encouragement and a little exploration I now have five, and I’m considering getting a sixth. Of the five I have, “Animal Magnetism” comes in at #2, easily displacing “Love at First Sting.”

Ratings: 4 stars

When it comes to the birth of heavy metal I look immediately to Black Sabbath as the father of it all, and Iron Maiden and Judas Priest as the two younger uncles. However, the Scorpions deserve a place in the discussion – maybe a fourth brother who we didn’t know as well growing up because he lived on the continent.

“Animal Magnetism” is a classic early metal record. On their earlier records the Scorpions had dabbled with the sound of screeching guitar riffs, and the almost operatic bombast that characterizes metal. Here, they go all in.

As much of this album eventually impressed me, the opening track “Make It Real” gave me cause for doubt. For some reason this track sounded a bit tinny, and felt a bit pop radio in its construction, despite the powerhouse vocals of Klaus Meine.

Fortunately, all doubt was quickly dispelled as the record progressed. “Don’t Make Promises (Your Body Can’t Keep)” starts like a burst of machine gun fire before quickly dropping into a crunchy guitar riff. It is also a great example of how lead guitarist Matthias Jabs and rhythm guitarist Rudolf Schenker play masterfully off each other. Schenker is the engine of these songs, brilliantly sitting in the pocket and infusing the music with horsepower. Jabs floats in on top, delivering some sweet runs that amp it up.

The best example of this is on “Twentieth Century Man.” The two guitarists know exactly how to make each other sound better, and it doesn’t hurt that Klaus Meine is one of metal’s great vocalists. The music has the cold strength of steel girders, balanced by the majesty of the anthemic song structures. It is like looking up in awe at a skyscraper and standing triumphantly on top of it at the same time.

If you listen to a lot of Scorpions you’ll know these guys really enjoy singing about sex, and many of these songs are straightforward appeals for booty with very little subterfuge about them. Meine is either singing about taking girls home, asking girls if they’ll come home with him or apologizing to his girlfriend for all those girls he’s taking home. Lines like these from the title track:

“You make me groove

I want you, that’s all I do

Make love to me right now

Love me ‘till I’m down”

Leave little to the imagination. Just written on the page like that they are hilariously over the top. When they’re accompanied by music they’re still pretty funny, but you forgive it all because of how righteously the songs rock out.

The Scorpions were early adopters (some would argue creators) of the power ballad. On “Animal Magnetism” it is “Lady Starlight.” It is a bit too hippy dippy for my tastes, but nonetheless has some pretty guitar picking and Meine’s vocals, where he briefly trades in his “let’s do the sex!” routine for some genuine romance.

Before long he’s back to being creepy. “Falling in Love” sounds like it is going to be romantic, but the way Meine gives off Bon Scott-like “eeuwww!” sounds makes it clear this isn’t love. Then right when you are expecting more of the same he throws in a falsetto “yeah!” like a sexual climax. It is delightfully gross.

The album features the band’s eighth drummer, Herman Rarebell which I mention because of the Spinal Tap overtones and because Rarebell does a fine job of keeping things organized and on time, with a sharp snap to his drumming that is exactly what the record needs. In a band that has had 11 drummers over its history, Rarebell was the man through much of their major success, including writing some of the songs and lyrics. He deserves a shout out for both his talent and his endurance. From 1977-1995 he was a key part of the band’s success, never once drowning in vomit – his own, or anyone else’s.

Best tracks: Don’t Make Promises (Your Body Can’t Keep), Hold Me Tight, Twentieth Century Man, Falling In Love

CD Odyssey Disc 1193: Nap Eyes

I’m currently growing my beard out to augment a Hallowe’en costume and it is itching like crazy. Who knows, though – maybe in a week it will feel great. For now I just want the damned thing off my face.

I expect this next band has many fans with beards.

Disc 1193 is… Thought Rock Fish Scale

Artist: Nap Eyes

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? A three-headed man plays the trumpet, while pouring wine near (but not into) some amphora. This goes to show that even if you have three heads you should be careful about trying to do too many things at once. This is particularly true if you happen to only have one arm, as appears to be the case here.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review for their 2018 release “I’m Bad Now” and checked them out. I liked them a lot and bought both that album and this one. I’m still on the hunt for their first album, “Whine of the Mystic”.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Nap Eyes albums, as you would surely know if you’ve been reading carefully and not just skimming through these categories after a perfunctory guffaw at the “what’s up with the cover?” segment. Anyway, of those two, I put “Thought Rock Fish Scale” in first!

Ratings: 4 stars

For Halifax rock band Nap Eyes, their second album “Thought Rock Fish Scale” is a hidden but brilliant gem that deserves far more attention than it ever received. Listening to it you sense that the band knew this was the likely outcome, and OK with that…mostly. Basically, they think about it a lot.

This record is comfort food for the soul, but only for brave and inquisitive souls. If you are looking for easy answers in your music and lyrics you should look elsewhere.

The arrangements are relaxed and laid back, with echoing guitar and a relaxed surfer feel that feels meditative and safe. However, buried in these gentle rolling guitar musings are songs that speak with deep uncertainty.

On “Mixer” lead singer and lyricist Nigel Chapman perfectly captures the awkward feeling of the cocktail party. Whether these are Chamber of Commerce mixers or art gallery openings is usually immaterial; they have the same feeling of disconnectedness. Everyone circles the room, stirring their drinks, promising to meet for lunch and generally being mindful of being on their best behavior.

“Mixer” sets the stage for the whole album, exploring the various ways people hold off the awkwardness of it all. Booze, meditation or just a lingering ennui all play their part on the record.

“Stargazer” has one of the catchiest little guitar picking segments I’ve heard. It is deceptively simple, just walking around inside the chord but it has an echo and jump that drives each bar into the next in a never-ending round. The effect settles into your head like a mantra. On top of it, Chapman sings of his uncertainty and doubt. I love this line in particular, which seems to speak to the road less travelled:

“I have seen people go by me with such
Determination that it's sick
I'd like to go the places they don't know how to get to
But I can't remember the trick
So I wait around and venomously crown myself
Serpent king of my sins
But if I go down I'm not taking you with me
It's only myself in the end.”

This is a brilliant bit of self-exploration. Envious of other’s success, even as he wants to achieve his own in some different way he can’t seem to put his finger on. And while Chapman acknowledges his own venom, he is quick to remind himself not to pull anyone down with him.

The almost deadpan delivery on “Lion in Chains” has a Lou Reed like quality, mixed with a slow and steady surfer vibe on the guitar. This is another song filled with existential dread. Are you where you are supposed to be? Are you on a path to get there? Or you at the mercy of some force greater than any single choice you can make? Chapman sums it up with:

“When I think thoughts about my hometown
I sometimes feel like I'll never get out of here
I feel a warm breath and a deadly uncaring power at the back of my neck
And I wonder what it is that keeps me here.”

It would be easy for this stuff to come off pathetic and whiney, but it never does. Nap Eyes do a great job of settling down into a groove and honestly exploring Big Questions without ever seeming like they are complaining. They are just musing, and bringing you along for the ride.

This culminates on the end of Side One with “Don’t Be Right” a song that observes that often when we feel most right or vindicated about our position, it is also the time we are at our most miserable. It is lonely up there on Righteous Mountain.

Best tracks: Mixer, Stargazer, Lion In Chains, Don’t Be Right, Click Clack

CD Odyssey Disc 1192: The Smalls

Over the past week I got three new (to me) albums. They are:

• Mr. Lif “I Phantom” (2002) – Mr. Lif is a rap record my buddy Ross bought me. Pretty great stuff. I loved it on the first listen and I’m looking forward to exploring further.
• The Avett Brothers, “Four Thieves Gone” (2006) – my third (and earliest) album from indie pop/folk band the Avett Brothers. I found it just OK on my first listen but I’m looking forward to a deeper dive soon.
• St. Vincent, “MassEducation” (2018) – St. Vincent reworks her 2017 album Masseduction with an all acoustic rendition of the same songs. This album blew me away on the first listen and is likely to get a lot of play in the weeks ahead.

Look for all these albums in a review coming here soon…or not soon. That’s up to some random dice I roll. Isn’t it deliciously exciting not knowing? It is for me.

Disc 1192 is… To Each A Zone

Artist: The Smalls

Year of Release: 1992

What’s up with the Cover? Probably a picture of the band, but with a lot of treatments and filters applied. I declare this cover…OK.

How I Came To Know It: Direct from their merch table at a show at Sugar Nightclub back in 2014.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Smalls albums. I like them all but somebody has to be last and “To Each A Zone” is it.

Ratings: 3 stars

“To Each a Zone” is a mosh-inducing hair-swinger of a record that may be the Smalls muddiest, grimiest album in all the good and bad ways that suggests.

The Smalls are a nineties grunge band, and “To Each A Zone” embraces the combination of melodic structure, punk energy and metal crunch that defines that movement.

These guys lay down an impressive groove on this record, dropping cable-thick riffs with plenty of reverb. The first few tracks make you want to just stake out a small square of dancefloor and shake all your hair into your face. For the short-haired out there that have seen this phenomenon and wondered if it is actually a good time let me assure you, it is. This is one of the great things about having long hair.

The riffs on “To Each A Zone” aren’t super creative but they are timeless and the Smalls play them at a high level. Sometimes all you need in life is a crunchy riff, well played. Other times I wanted the songs to be a bit more dynamic and varied, but this is a record that is going for an overall mood, not singular moments. Knowing that going in (which I did) helped me appreciate it on its own terms.

Bassist Corb Lund also has some great moments, particularly on “Horse Thief” where he is the star of the show and even gets a bass solo. You have to be careful because a little bass solo goes a long way, but on “Horse Thief” the Smalls keep it appropriately restrained.

I also like the vocals of Mike Caldwell despite his semi-mumbling style. His voice is back in the mix so in order to hear what he’s saying would be hard anyway, and his delivery doesn’t make it any easier. Near the end of “BB on the B” Caldwell sings “Don’t you see what I’m sayin’/It’s the same thing I’ve been sayin’ all along.” No, Mike, I don’t hear what you’re saying – you mumble too much! That’s OK, though, because the song has such a great groove I forgive it. It isn’t always about the words; sometimes it can just be about the feeling.

There are a lot of classic blues riffs mixed in and grungified, and a couple of songs (“BB on the B”, “Shuffler’s Song”) reminded me of early ZZ Top the way they took old blues riffs and gave them a hard rock edge.

The front half of the record is better than the back half, but both have a nice energy. The production is dulled out, but it is done on perfect to create a miasma of sound. “To Each a Zone” knows what sound it is trying to achieve and it gets there. While I didn’t like it as much as my other Smalls albums, I wouldn’t change it. This record’s visceral, soot-covered sound suits it well.

In fact if I had heard this album when I was 22 (when it came out) I bet I would have liked it even more, but I was too busy listening to Celtic folk back then to notice. I regret nothing, but I’m glad to have broadened my horizons since.

Best tracks: Payload, Horse Thief, Only Thing Goin’, Nero Divla (To Each a Zone)

CD Odyssey Disc 1191: Girlschool

I was up early this morning to feed a friend’s cat and I’ve decided to make the most of this pre-football time by getting in a music review. If this posts after the game starts do not be alarmed; I have PVR. I will miss nothing my beloved Miami Dolphins may do.

Disc 1191 is… Screaming Blue Murder

Artist: Girlschool

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? Blue smoke was a common feature of early eighties metal, and Girlschool embraces it here. This cover looks like it was shot on the set of a high school musical. Perhaps these are the ghosts of that musical’s stars, who were all tragically killed when the giant iron frame they’re hanging onto crashed down on them.

The school’s handyman had repeatedly warned that it was unwise to hang a frame from the lighting track, but no one would listen. Now the ghosts of the four dead girls haunt the school’s theatre, planning their vengeance…

But I digress…

How I Came To Know It: I first learned about Girlschool through their appearances on 2000’s double CD compilation “Best of Motorhead.” I didn’t buy any Girlschool for the longest time and then I saw a box set of their first four CDs in my local record store, Ditch. I dithered on whether to buy it, as I kept promising myself to check the band out online first and then forgetting over and over again. Finally, about a year ago I did check them out and I liked what I heard.

Unfortunately the box set had sold. Ditch said they could order me another one so I accepted. Months passed, and they managed to get in a stand-alone copy of “Screaming Blue Murder”. However it was $27 and wasn’t even the record in the set I wanted most, so I demurred. Finally I gave up and cancelled the order, and ordered it online through an English seller on Amazon. Turns out that fell through as well..

I was about to give up when the guys at Ditch said they could take another try to get it. A week later, there it was. “Screaming Blue Murder” is the third disk in the box set.

How It Stacks Up:  Those four albums in the box set are my only four Girlschool albums. Girlschool put out 13 albums and I’ve listened to most of them online, but those first four are the only “must haves” for me. Of the four, “Screaming Blue Murder” is third, but only because the two in front of it are really good.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“Screaming Blue Murder” is an unapologetic collection of songs about hard livin’, hard rockin’ and not giving a damn. It is best played loud and late at night, but I also enjoyed it just walking around in the day.

Girlschool are an all-woman metal band from England that sound a lot like their oft-times collaborators, Motorhead. Both bands have a crunchy, driving energy that mixes the recklessness of punk with the anthemic power of metal. “Screaming Blue Murder” is their third album, and at this point the band is starting to incorporate some more mainstream elements, resulting in a bit less crunch.

These mainstream elements skirt uncomfortably close to the edge of kitschy, but I think they are subtle enough to not detract from the album’s power overmuch. It is a shift in their sound, but the shift stays on the right side of the line (they wouldn’t go too far until their next record, “Play Dirty”). While I prefer Girlschool’s first two albums, I like what they are going for on “Screaming Blue Murder” and overall they stick the landing. There is still plenty of fury and metal mayhem to be had.

Rhythm guitarist Kim McAuliffe and lead guitarist Kelly Johnson share lead vocal duties, and I couldn’t pick a favourite between them. Both have plenty of snarl. The real star of the band is the guitar work. Johnson’s lead guitar is classic British heavy metal, peeling out with furious solos but always staying tastefully within the song’s melody.

McAuliffe’s work on rhythm is equally brilliant. Song with these kinds of churning riffs need the rhythm guitar to sit down in the pocket, giving the song their energy without drawing too much attention to themselves. Johnson does this masterfully, sitting slightly at the front of the beat and giving the songs a little urgency with their groove.

My version of the album has a bonus track, “Don’t Stop” which was the B-side on the single release of “Wildlife”. I actually liked it more than the single and I love having it (B-Sides should always be on the LP).

Even with this addition the record is only 11 songs and 33 minutes long. Girlschool waste no time – they get in, get on it, and get out. It was over so quick it left me wanting more. Good thing I’ve got three more of their albums that are just a dice roll away!

Best tracks: Screaming Blue Murder, Live With Me, It Turns Your Head Around, Don’t Call It Love

CD Odyssey Disc 1190: The Crackling

I was out late last night so I’m quite pleased with myself that I got up early anyway. The day is mine! Then again, I am kind of sleepy so after I finish this review, maybe it’ll be nap time.

Disc 1190 is… Keep Full Ambitious

Artist: The Crackling

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? Fire at the mill! Or something. I’m not sure what is on fire here – maybe a dock on a lake? There appears to be a perigee syzygy underway as well.

Yeah – I had to look that term up. Feel free to do the same.

How I Came To Know It: Back in 2009 our friends Sherylyn and Joel introduced us to Dan Mangan through his “Nice Nice, Very Nice” album (reviewed back at Disc 879). We went to see him live at the Alix Goolden hall. Mangan’s drummer at the time was Kenton Loewen. Loewen was also the front man, guitarist and songwriter of a band called the Crackling and they opened for Mangan. I liked what I heard so I bought his album from the merch table.

Fun fact: Loewen briefly played drums in Mother Mother as well, although not when I saw them.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only album I have by the Crackling so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

Canadian folk-rock tends to feature a lot of layered sound, and the singer’s vocals tend to warble a bit. The lyrics are interesting but it takes a while to pick up what the songs are about. The guitar tends to have a bit of reverb, but only to make an echo, not a snarl. It’s smooth and polite on the surface; self-examined and complex underneath. This is the Cracklings.

“Keep Full Ambitious” is an apt title for this album. This is a record that eschews catch ear-worms for a broader sound with complex melodies that sometimes delighted me and sometimes left me frustrated and wanting…less.

There is plenty to like on the record, starting with “Geppetto,” a jaunty little tune with a ragtime jazz feel and some delightful work from pianist Tyson Naylor. This song is also as close to the album gets to radio friendly. It is a song that features themes of control, and how we both pull the strings of others, all he while having our own pulled as well. I’m not sure where Loewen lands on the whole thing, but I like the way he explores it, incorporating dark humour with lines like:

“Because I came to read your paper

And it was your dog that bit me

She knew that blood, that flavour

It’s not easy to forget me.

I also loved the heartbreaking “Of Deceit.” The tune is cold and stark, like a frozen lake where the ice is dangerously thin Loewen explores a love betrayed and as he sings “It’s not wrong for you to go now” you can tell the narrator doesn’t want that outcome, but realizes it’s what he deserves.

The rest of the album is good (particularly the first half) but the bravery the Cracklings display on song construction sometimes makes them hard to follow.

Loewen’s singing is heartfelt and honest, but not super powerful or rangy and the arrangements are lush and packed, making it that much harder to pick him out of the auditory crowd.

The album only has 11 songs but is over 50 minutes of music and many of the songs go on a bit too long. “I Am Your Rogue (Ode to a Woman)” is about as overblown as you’d expect from the title, and it ends with about a minute of idle guitar noodling that didn’t add anything for me. “First Drop” starts off as a promising duet with Debra Jean Creelman, but it ends in that oft-used mistake in indie music – a long outro of frenetic instrumentals. Loewen resolves the melody artfully at the end, proving he’s doing it all deliberately, not as a shortcut, but by the time he got there I was feeling fidgety.

For all my minor issues with production, on balance I still like “Keep Full Ambitious”. On my first listen I was planning to give it a way, but by the third time through it had won me over again, which is a good sign for any record.

Best tracks: Geppetto, Of Deceit

CD Odyssey Disc 1189: Lindi Ortega

It’s been a long day filled with ups and downs but here I sit at the end of it with my old friends: a keyboard and an album full of music.

Disc 1189 is… Liberty

Artist: Lindi Ortega

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? Lindi Ortega rides out as a bandit, signature red boots high in the stirrups.

How I Came To Know It: I am a big fan of Lindi Ortega so when I heard she had a new album coming out I added it to my list. I waited impatiently for several months for it to be released. It was on my “to buy” list without a release date so I probably checked the stands three or four times before it was even out. Anyway, eventually it arrived at the local record store and I grabbed a copy.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Lindi Ortega albums. Of those, I put “Liberty” in at the bottom of that list – so fifth.

Ratings: 3 stars

When you release a concept album you live or die by the theme – sometimes you do both. So it is with Lindi Ortega’s 2018 release “Liberty.”

Up to this point in her career Ortega has explored bad, sassy, sexy and more than a few dissertations on the elusive nature of both love and fame. On “Liberty” she takes a new tack, embracing traditional western themes and music, and fusing them with her seductive alt-country sound.

Ortega goes all in on these notions, with references to tornados, lonely plains, gunfights the love of a good man, and the equally important love of a good horse. The album features an early attempted murder (and maybe some kind of resurrection from the dead), some revenge before closing with what I think is a happy ending and a ride off into the sunset.

Musically, Ortega’s smoky, sultry vocals remain and she sings many of the songs in a half-whisper that makes them feel conspiratorial – like a death-bed confession laced with just the right amount of sin. There are places where I wanted Ortega to belt it out a bit (she comes close on “In the Clear,” but stays restrained and slightly layered in heavy guitar reverb).

That reverb is ever-present on the record and although it creates a cohesive sound it also serves to water down a lot of the great old-time spaghetti western feel the songs have. All the trappings of old school westerns are there: trumpet flourishes, trail-riding harmonica and the ominous strains of the steel guitar played low and mournful, like a prairie haunting. I would have liked her to explore the combination of traditional western and her own more modern alt-country style from a few more angles, different angles, although that might have disrupted the mood of mystery she’s trying to establish.

Ortega divides the album into movements, separated by the instrumental “Through the Dust” divided into three sections. These short interludes sound like Ennio Morricone on Quaaludes which is trippy, but at times take away the record’s momentum.

In its darker moments, “Liberty” reminded me of Handsome Family murder ballads, but with less obvious violence. Instead, Ortega tends to cleave more toward dark romance, playing both the wounded lover and then the femme fatale depending on where you are at in the story.

The record is bass-heavy, and would have benefited from a bit less boom at the bottome end. I think the intent was to create a heavy foreboding, but a little lightness might make key moments sink in that much deeper when they’re needed.

“Lovers in Love” feels like an old seventies croon-fest, and has a timeless quality that would have done Dolly Parton or Linda Ronstadt proud. There is an anthemic quality to songs like this and the inspirational “In the Clear” that leave you feeling like you are standing heroically on a wood-plank deck looking out at a Monument Valley sunset in a John Ford picture. Lindi’s wearing a cowboy hat and there’s a slight breeze but it doesn’t threaten the hat; it just makes her hair blow majestically.

“The Comeback Kid” is the radio-friendly single, and features the mix of blues and country that I’ve come to expect from earlier releases. It may be a familiar sound but I liked it – it even has hand claps, and what song isn’t made better by hand claps?

All the songs work thematically, and most of them would also stand alone as pieces about a jilted lover; no gunfights required. The double meaning of the songs as both high-plains revenge and straight up romance works well overall.

I would have liked a little less murk and ambience and a bit more of the sparseness of a trail song in the Marty Robbins style, but the mix of styles Ortega is going for is a fragile balance and it isn’t easy to maintain the sweet spot. For the most part she lands it.

Best tracks: Afraid of the Dark, The Comeback Kid, In the Clear, Lovers in Love, Liberty

CD Odyssey Disc 1188: The Beatles

Yesterday a coworker told me he had just discovered Gillian Welch and Townes Van Zandt. I’d known both for a while, but he’s also a musically deep guy and it got me thinking: just what seminal artists are out there still waiting for me to discover? It’s a comforting thought.

And now a band we all know probably too well.

Disc 1188 is… Revolver

Artist: The Beatles

Year of Release: 1966

What’s up with the Cover? The world’s worst combination of line art and collage. The line art looks like a set of suspects form a local grocery store robbery, as drawn by Scotland Yard’s composite portrait artist. The collage looks like it was taken from the bedroom of some 13 year old girl – likely the daughter of one of the grocery thieves who took one of the posters home as a lark.

How I Came To Know It: I know lots of these songs because…the Beatles. I know the album because Sheila bought a bunch of Beatles albums years ago.

How It Stacks Up:  We have seven Beatles albums. Of those, I rank “Revolver” seventh. That’s right, I put it last, although I probably would like it more than some of those early Beatles albums we don’t even own. This is also (mercifully) my last Beatles review so here’s the full recap:

1. Abbey Road: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 441)
2. The White Album: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 593)
3. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 808)
4. Help:  3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1134)
5. Rubber Soul:  3 stars (reviewed at Disc 71)
6. Magical Mystery Tour:  3 stars (reviewed at Disc 408)
7. Revolver: 3 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings: 3 stars

Have you ever gone and visited someone’s house warming and thought, ‘It’s a nice house, but I hate what they’ve done with the place.’  That’s what the Beatles’ “Revolver” feels like. Brilliant and often ground breaking melodies meander through songs that are often too clever for their own good.

Paul McCartney knocks melodies out with the ease of a lactose intolerant milk-shake lover – a torrent of music that sounds effortless. And yet, like that milkshake, on “Revolver” I find it can sometimes end up disappointing and a little painful. Even heartfelt and touching love songs like “Here, There and Everywhere” feel schmaltzy, like something from a bad sixties romance movie rather than a critically acclaimed album.

“Revolver” continues the Beatles journey into the land of bells and whistles as well. A lot of the goofy sound effects and production hijinks that bug me on “Magical Mystery Tour” are here in developmental form.

One of the worst examples is “Yellow Submarine,” a song I have always hated. The song has the bones of a drunken bar sing-a-long, but is so saturated with overwrought sound effects and self-absorbed in jokes that it feels more like something you’d hear on a children’s album.

Among the many excesses, we are subjected to: crashing surf; the smattering of a some horn playing oompa-pah-pah music; someone singing through a megaphone; and background vocals that sound like a drunk upper class twit of the year, complete with cackles. I listened with fervent hope for the sound of a depth charge that would sink the fucking thing, but it never came.

This is the Beatles “sitar phase” and they employ it with mixed results. I liked it for the most part, even though it delays the start of “Love You To” with an overlong intro. The Beatles have a good understanding of how to work a non-western instrument into western music in a way that is complimentary, not intrusive.

Also, for all the frustration this album gives me it is a ground-breaking record with some timeless classics. “Eleanor Rigby” is one of the greatest pop songs ever written. The melody is like nothing else, compelling and vaguely disconcerting to match the subject matter of loneliness. The violin flourishes add just the right amount of anxiety to the song. This is a song that shows the Beatles can be as serious as they want to be. Fifty years later this is still a song everyone knows, and this time that’s a good thing.

“For No One” is also a solid track, again delving into the sadness of a love destroyed. The mix of piano, horn and the pure tone of McCartney’s singing all blend beautifully – in part because the band keeps the arrangement simple and lets the song’s beauty shine.

The album’s final two songs sum up what is great and terrible with the record respectively. “Got To Get You Into My Life” has an infectious swing, and a horn section that turns the blues into pop in the prettiest way possible. It is like a fine Italian style pizza – just two or three ingredients, artfully brought together.

“Tomorrow Never Knows” is a drug-fuelled pile of excess with layer upon layer of sound, cleverly structured but so busy and overblown you can’t appreciate the cleverness. I expect music aficionados point to songs like this to show how “before their time” the Beatles are. I hear it and just think about all the bad songs inspired by this cacophony in the years since its release. “Revolver” is only 34 minutes long, but listening to “Tomorrow Never Knows” it felt like it was never going to end.

I admire the Beatles for knowing they could just write hit pop songs forever, but who also wanted to stretch themselves artistically. On “Revolver” this creates some of the world’s greatest music, but also some of the most annoying.

Best tracks: Eleanor Rigby, She Said She Said, For No One, Got To Get You Into My Life

CD Odyssey Disc 1187: Bad Cop Bad Cop

There are so many ways to discover new music if you stay open to the experience. One of the best places are all those opening bands playing before the band you came to see. I always go to a gig on time and catch the opening acts. I think music lovers who show up later to watch just the headliner are cheating themselves of what could be a great experience.

Disc 1187 is… Warriors

Artist: Bad Cop Bad Cop

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Justice isn’t blind after all. Here she’s got four eyes, five if you count the one in her hair. That hair is made of flame, and there are more flames in her scales. In short, this version of justice also came to kick some ass, just like the band.

This particular painting brought to you by artist Jennie Cotterill, who kicks ass in many different ways (she’s also in the band). Thanks, Jennie!

How I Came To Know It: I saw these guys open for Frank Turner in back to back shows earlier this year. They were great, and Sheila suggested I go to their merch table and get an album. I did just that!

How It Stacks Up:  As it happens, I bought two Bad Cop Bad Cop albums at the show. When I did, a burly looking punk with a bald head and a massive beard told me “you won’t regret it – they are both great!” Turns out he was right. So much so, I’m not sure how I can rate one ahead of the other – it is that close. However, since I’m not one to equivocate I’ll put “Warriors” in first place…for now.

Ratings: 4 stars

When a band has a live show as high energy as Bad Cop Bad Cop you always worry they won’t capture the magic on their studio album. However, “Warriors” has all the visceral power of their live performance, but with better separation of sound. Live was great, but in studio I had all that power and I could hear the words.

Bad Cop Bad Cop are an all-woman punk band from Los Angeles who have a lot to say and aren’t afraid to say it at high volume. They were already loud on their previous record (2015’s “Not Sorry”) and here they turn it up to 11, replacing the ska touches on their previous record with a more straight ahead rock sound. I like both approaches equally, but there is no denying how infectious the rock riffs are on “Warriors”. It makes you want to raise your first and yell.

While all four women sing to some degree, main vocal duties are anchored by Stacey Dee and Jennie Cotterill. Dee has the more traditional punk snarl, but I also like Cotterill’s voice which has plenty of grit and a subtle hint of sixties crooner around the edges. Add in bassist Linh Le’s emotionally raw delivery and the three of them blend together for a good combination of harmony and punk power. “Warriors” shows off their various vocal talents a bit less than previous efforts but only because the arrangements have a stronger rock focus. Even with this thickened sound, they never lose their core of musicality.

The band is anchored by drummer Myra Gallarza, who hits the skins hard. In the first concert I saw of the band she broke a drum stick while playing. When you hear her on “Warriors” it is easy to see why. She thumps those things with a vengeance. A punk band without enthusiasm in the rhythm section will always sound bland, but the relentless punch of Gallarza’s drums (and Le’s frantic bass) give the record the right amount of gravitas.

I was favourably reminded of Green Day at their best. Green Day gets unfairly blamed for inspiring a lot of bad pop punk bands, but Bad Cop Bad Cop shows this power can also be used for good.

Thematically, these songs follow the traditional punk norms of rebellion, including quite a number of songs with social messages. The band isn’t afraid to explore dark personal topics either, addressing suicide and feelings of self-loathing. “Victoria” is a song about suicide which is indicative of their sound; crunching guitar and snarl, but with a strong melody that makes the songs equally good for moshing or singing along.

At the core of it all, this is a band that is not afraid to say the things they think needs saying – whether personal or political. “Womanarchist” and the title track are calls to action on a broad front. On “Kids” they call out an abuser and on the more subtle “Why Change a Thing?” they call on sleepy suburban professionals to join the fight for all the people who don’t have it as good as they do.

Like a lot of punk records, the songs on “Warriors” get their point across in a hurry and the whole record is over in less than 30 minutes. I ended up listening to it six times in just two days. Despite all this play time, I never got bored – I was infused with the energy of the record every time.

While there isn’t a lot of new ground being broken here, Bad Cop Bad Cop pulls anthemic rock and protest punk together at a high level. They write great songs and then they play them with a celebratory and furious power. “Warriors” is their most recent record and I’m excited to see what they do next. For now, a few more listens of this one are in my future.

Best tracks: I’m Done, Womanarchist, Victoria, Amputations, Broken, Warriors, Kids

CD Odyssey Disc 1186: The Smalls

I’m feeling a bit tired tonight after a fun long weekend of celebrating. It was a worthy cause, though – today is Sheila’s birthday. Happy birthday Sheila! I am so lucky to have you in my life.

OK, enough love and tenderness – I need to get my grunge on.

Disc 1186 is… Waste & Tragedy

Artist: The Smalls

Year of Release: 1995

What’s up with the Cover? In the days before either sitting or smiling were invented the only joy was to be found in a full and fearsome beard. It was a stark joy, for a stark time.

How I Came To Know It: I saw the Smalls on a reunion tour about four years ago and bought all four of their albums that night at the merch table.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Smalls albums and “Waste & Tragedy” is my favourite.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

The Smalls make music which is for throwing your hair in your face and pointing your face to the floor, with muddy guitar riffs that shake the lower spine. This is the nineties most famous sound: grunge. While the Smalls would never achieve the fame of Soundgarden, Pearl Jam or Nirvana they made some smokin’ grunge in their day, and “Waste & Tragedy” is some of their best.

Like all Smalls albums, “Waste & Tragedy” is filled with in-your-face ferocity, chugging out crunchy guitar riffs that are deceptively simple. On some of their records this ferocity threatens to drown out the song structure, but “Waste & Tragedy” finds the right mix of mud and lightning.

A big part of this is the playing of Corb Lund. Lund would later switch to a solo country career but here he just plays the bass and does a fine job of it. There are a couple of riffs that are a bit too similar to one another, but they’re good riffs, so it’s hard to complain.

Singer Mike Caldwell has an almost careless delivery, but his natural talent for staying the pocket keeps him on course. In terms of what he’s singing about, I couldn’t tell you. I could only pick out a couple of lines at a time, but what I heard was cool.  This music isn’t really for the lyrics anyway (although it is worth noting that many of the fans at the live show knew ALL the words, so maybe I’m wrong about that). For me it is about the groove and the restless energy so while the album came with a lyrics booklet I didn’t bother to look any up.

Hands down the best song is “Pity the Man With the Fast Right Hand” which has both a funky Lund bass riff, and a bit more sound separation than many of the songs. This lets it breathe and develop over time. In places it sounded like early Red Hot Chili Peppers crossed with early ZZ Top, topped with a layer of rocks.

“Hollow Hello” sounds a bit too much like Kurt Cobain singing “Hello…how low” on “Smells Like Teen Spirit” but maybe that’s the point. “Uranusexplodes” lacks focus but the title is super funny, so I give it points for that. If you haven’t made some joke about the planet Uranus then you haven’t lived. I’ll never forget the day I learned that Uranus had deposits of methane gas and spent that afternoon quizzing my Grade Eight science teacher with this knowledge. While he tried to teach us far less interesting things about the planets I interjected with straight-faced queries of “Is it true Uranus has deposits of methane?” “Are these deposits ever in danger of exploding?” Comedy gold. I don’t recall if I pushed it into detention territory, but it was certainly possible. But I digress.

“Waste & Tragedy” is a good soundtrack for disaffected youth. It has a rebellious edge, filled with vitriol and bad choices. I couldn’t follow all of the lyrics in “Take It From a Ryeman” but the song had ‘sullen drunk’ written all over it. It also has a relentless lurch to the riff that makes you think of someone stumbling about after one too many of Canada’s answer to malt liquor.

“Waste & Tragedy” is the Smalls demonstrating just the right mix of power and groove, and while I couldn’t bring myself to grade it out at four stars, it came close. Lately I haven’t reached for a Smalls album often, but when I do it tends to be this one.

Best tracks: Pity the Man with the Fast Right Hand, Maybe That Prophet Scared You, (Take It From a) Ryeman, Waste & Tragedy

CD Odyssey Disc 1185: Brandi Carlile

I’m starting my second four day weekend in a row and it feels pretty good. The key to a good long weekend is to have fun with friends, try something new, and plan for some quiet time to recharge the batteries. If you can sneak in an Oxford comma along the way then all the better.

Disc 1185 is… The Story

Artist: Brandi Carlile

Year of Release: 2007

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a book. Please do not assume from the frayed edge on the left that I have mistreated this album. I take care of my CDs and my books. That effect was put there by the original artist.

How I Came To Know It: I had heard about this album a few times but it didn’t grab me the first time I played it. Then I got into Brandi Carlile through her latest release, “By the Way I Forgive You” (reviewed back at Disc 1135) and dug through her collection in reverse. This time “The Story” not only stuck, I was deeply impressed. I bought it that weekend.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four of Brandi Carlile’s six studio albums. Of those four, I put “The Story” in at third. I wish it could be higher, but competition is fierce.

Ratings: 4 stars

Brandi Carlile’s “The Story” is a critical darling and as a result it started off on the wrong side of my iconoclastic nature. It didn’t take long to win me over, however.

Most successful artists are lucky to have either great songwriting ability or superb vocals. Carlile has the rare gift of both. Her vocals have the ability to be both evocative and powerful. So many powerhouse singers just belt it out but lose the emotional content in the quest for landing a perfect 10 at the vocal gymnastics. Carlile never seems strained or insincere, even when she is cutting loose.

Her style is a mix of indie folk and power pop. On her folksier side she reminded me of Patty Griffin and her pop voice has a thunderous warble similar to Sia. Either way it feels like your hair is being blown back when she opens up.

On the songwriting front she is not alone; longtime bandmates and collaborators the Hanseroth twins are part of that success. That said, my favourite songs were just as likely to be written by just Carlile as to be a collaborative effort. In this way she reminded me of Emmylou Harris, fully able to do it all herself but naturally drawn to work with others. Based on the results on “The Story” she has this mixed approach just right.

On my first listen I found myself approaching “The Story” as a concept album, likely influenced by the promise of the title. While “concept album” would be a stretch, the album is heavily themed to the ending relationships. “Breakup Album” is probably a better moniker although I have no idea if Carlile was going through one at the time of writing the record. I could have looked into that, but great art should stand on its own merits, not rely on biographical crutches.

“The Story” meets this test and then some and regardless of Carlile’s personal life I expect a lot of people have wallowed away in grief listening to this record on a rainy afternoon and having a cry. I hope it helped process some things for those folks. Great art does that too.

I had no need to wallow, but I was still affected by these songs and their relentless heartbreak. The grief and loss of the subject matter juxtaposed with Carlile’s confident vocal performance is a perfect match. It is like she is pulling herself through by pure strength of will, and taking you along with her.

The lyrics on “The Story” weren’t quite as compelling for me as more recent Carlile albums (“By the Way, I Forgive You”, “The Firewatcher’s Daughter”) but that’s more a signal about how much I love those records than anything missing here. While the title track is solid, my favourite bit of storytelling is found on “Turpentine” which begins:

“I watch you grow away from me in photographs

And memories like spies

And salt betrays my eyes again

I started losing sleep and gaining weight

And wishing I was ten again

So I could be your friend again

These days we go to waste like wine

That’s turned to turpentine

It’s six AM and I’m all messed up

I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

There is a great building of longing here, with the heart pining and the head firmly on the hamster wheel until – inevitably – a drunken phone call gets made. Both the music and Carlile’s delivery climb and fall through the reverie, excess and regret in perfect waves with the words. Drunken phone calls are a mainstay of music, but it is nice to see a sympathetic explanation of how people get there. That said, don’t let this song influence you unduly – don’t make that call until the morning! By then you’ll have sobered up and won’t want to do it anymore, and that’s a good thing. But I digress…

There are many other standouts on the record but space – and the attention span of the modern reader – being limited, I will refrain from waxing poetic over them. Instead, you can read about them below in “Best Tracks”. The internet loves its lists.

There are times when this record strays a bit too far into power pop for my liking, but those times are rare and even then I must yield grudging respect to Carlile’s chops. My only other criticism is Carlile’s decision to put a “hidden” track at the end of the record. This has the effect of making the record’s final song “Again Today” 10:38 long, with over two minutes of infuriating silence before the very lovely “Hiding My Heart” comes on. So lovely, in fact, it deserves its own track.

Apart from this, “The Story” is a must have if you love well-written music, and don’t mind a little pop mixed in your folk. Don’t be afraid; a little sugar helps the grief go down easier.

Best tracks: Late Morning Lullaby, The Story, Turpentine, Wasted, Have You Ever, Josephine, Cannonball