CD Odyssey Disc 1329: Beastie Boys

The end of the year is here and with it – the tradition of making Top 10 lists!

I listened to all or portions of around 150 albums released in 2019. Of the ones that held my attention sufficiently to survive a full listen, I purchased 52. 14 more are still on my ‘to get’ list. Of those 66 ‘shelf-worthy” efforts, here are the ones that tickled my fancy the most in 2019 in ascending order of awesome.

10. The Hu – Gereg

9. Sharon Van Etten – Remind Me Tomorrow

8. Josh Ritter – Fever Breaks

7. J.S. Ondara – Tales of America

6. Jenny Lewis – On the Line

5. Jens Lekman and Annika Norlin – Correspondence

4. Molly Tuttle – When You’re Ready

3. Sleater-Kinney – The Center Won’t Hold

2. Better Oblivion Community Center – Self-Titled

1. Mattiel – Satis Factory

Honourable mention (i.e. on the list if I had done a Top 15): The Pixies – Beneath the Eyrie, Snotty Nose Rez Kids – Trapline, Caamp – By and By, Hayes Carll – What it is, Evan Bartels – Promised Land

Disc 1329 is… Ill Communication

Artist: Beastie Boys

Year of Release: 1994

What’s up with the Cover? I always think this guy looks like Jake from the Blues Brothers. As we know, the Blues Brothers initially felt sufficiently equipped with a full tank of gas, a half pack of cigarettes and sunglasses. However, after a couple hours on the road they got hungry and had to stop at a drive-through for some takeout.

This cover also speaks to the ‘ill communication’ that can occur while trying to record your takeout order through one of those squawk boxes. The Beastie Boys will make the device more useful for rapping than it ever was in procuring Jake and Elwood a cheeseburger.

How I Came to Know It: Like everyone else, I saw the video for the single “Sabotage” and it went from there.

How It Stacks Up:  I have seven Beastie Boys albums. I used to have nine, but a few years ago I parted ways with their two instrumental numbers. Of the seven remaining, “Ill Communication” comes in at #5.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Ill Communication” is an album that is spoiled by its own brilliance. I love portions of the record and other sections make me want to testily skip to the next track.

It is a record of excess. Genius excess but excess all the same. This hasn’t held critics back from lavishing praise on the record, noting its innovation and technical brilliance. I agree the innovation is great, but I’m here to listen to music, not file a patent.

First the good stuff, and there is plenty of it. The Beastie Boys bring not one but three exceptional MCs to the mix. Mike D, MCA, and Ad Rock are all at the height of their powers in 1994, passing the mic back and forth with a jocular enthusiasm. They’re like three best friends jostling one another as they race down to the beach to jump in the lake.

That lake in this case is a swirling mix of R&B, jazz, and samples of various bleeps, blurps and what the kids might call ring tones but what back in day we called “a phone.”

When it works, it is amazing, delivering rap classics like “Sure Shot”, “Root Down” and the rap classic “Sabotage”. All these songs sound as fresh today as they did 25 years ago. Many gave me a strut to my walk as I wandered the city streets with the Beastie Boys all up in my earholes.

Like their previous record (1992’s “Check Your Head”) the Beasties remain enamoured of the squawk box or, if not full squawk, then a lot of distortion on the vocal tracks. Then they throw in killer drum hits, jazz samples and some furious scratching. When it works, it comes out like “Alright Hear This,” a song with a million things going on that against all odds holds itself together.

However, there are also plenty of other songs where I recognize the brilliance of it all, but just wish there was a bit less of one or more components. Maybe less squawk, maybe less phone bleeps, and definitely less jazz.

The Beasties also return to their hardcore roots with songs like “Tough Guy” and “Heart Attack Man” both of which have a raw garage sound that felt out of place on the record.  

The record has twenty tracks, which is at least six and maybe eight too many. Pared down, “Ill Communication” might be worth all the hype it has received over the years. With everything the record is offering there is something for everyone, and it would be easy to just overlook the stuff that’s not for you. I think that’s what a lot of its admirers do. For me, taking the record as a whole, it just needs a final edit to give it more focus.

Best tracks: Sure Shot, B-Boys Making with the Freak Freak, Root Down, Sabotage, Alright Hear This

CD Odyssey Disc 1328: Hurray for the Riff Raff

Since I don’t expect I’ll be writing a review tomorrow, let me wish you all an early Merry Christmas! I’m looking forward to a nice relaxing holiday after what has been a long, and at times stressful, 2019.

I’m also looking forward to ending my self-imposed exile from the record store. I try not to buy any new music immediately before Christmas so I can treat myself after, but it’s been two weeks of pure hell.

Disc 1328 is… The Navigator

Artist: Hurray for the Riff Raff

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Our heroine chills out, French Existentialist style. Whenever I look at this picture I always think she’s wearing a beret, but it is just an outline of her head. It just looks like an outfit that should include a beret.

I imagine that the morning after this picture was taken Segarra road that bike down to the local café where she sat all morning writing poetry and watching pigeons chase each other about the plaza.

How I Came to Know It: I told that story back at Disc 1244, but the short version is my friend Randall brought one of the songs on this record (“Pa’lante”) to a music listening night. It was great, but I promptly forgot about it until Ethan Hawke pulled a copy of the record out of his bag on Amoeba Records’ Youtube show, “What’s In My Bag?” Together, Randall and Ethan convinced me to give Hurray for the Riff Raff a proper investigation.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Hurray for the Riff Raff records and they are both amazing. The other one (“Small Town Heroes”) is 5-star perfection and so narrowly beats out “The Navigator” for first place.

Ratings: 4 stars

“The Navigator” is a record where Hope and Struggle agree to shake hands and put aside their differences to make some great art. Those two have done it plenty of times before of course, but in the hands of gifted singer-songwriter Alynda Mariposa Segarra (aka Hurray for the Riff Raff) they do a better job of it than usual.

For this record, Segarra leaves the country charm of 2014’s “Small Town Heroes” mostly behind her, embracing a more urban, pop-oriented sound, accented with a healthy dollop of Latin rhythms. The new sound is the right fit for her subject matter, which includes the swirling chaos of bustling city life, and the widening gyre that storms inside the human heart trying to find its way through it.

“Living in the City” is an anthem for anyone who has ever lived in a city, but it had a special resonance for me, coming as I do from somewhere small and sleepy. Segarra’s love song to urban life captures the combination of community and isolation that comes from living shoulder to shoulder with a lot of other people who you don’t know all that well. Segarra finds a path of brassy bravado that walks the line between these two worlds, and ultimately bridges them:

“I got her a cane

and Big Danny is wasted

He said I'm the sweetest thing

that he's never tasted

Mariposa's singing love songs

All in her dark apartment

Fourteen floors a'birthin

And fourteen floors a'dying

Not sure who the cane is for, but I imagine it is some neighbour in need – maybe Mariposa when she’s not singing those love songs and needs to negotiate her way downstairs to pick up the mail.

As for Big Danny, I can see him crystal clear in my mind’s eye, an older dude making comments that border on inappropriate, but Segarra’s delivery makes it clear she takes no offence. It is fourteen floors of teeming humanity. It’s city life rich and varied; a little bit shared and a little bit distant, just the way we urbanites like it.

On “Hungry Ghost” you get the inner exploration of that hurricane (n.b. – I always think that first line of “Living in the City” is “hurricane” rather than “her a cane” which seems possible, given Segarra's often livin' in the city of New Orleans. Frankly I’m still not sure, and the internet was entirely unhelpful. But I digress...

Anyway, “Hungry Ghost” is the inner life amidst all that concrete:

“I've been a lonely girl…

But I'm ready for the world…

I've been a heart for hire…

And my love's a funeral pyre…”

Segarra’s vocals are vulnerable here, but she’s certain of purpose. She looks like she’s about five feet tall and 90 pounds but you get the impression you’d be safe walking the dark streets of either the Bronx or Bourbon Street with her at your side.

The album all comes together on “Pa’lante” which is Spanish for “forward!,” (if Google Translate is to be believed anyway). “Pa’lante” is two songs in one, the first half expressing the sentiment of just getting by, and the second translating that into a call to action. City life can wear you down, and an honourable life can be elusive, and hazy to define even when you find it. To which Segarra says, unequivocally, “go forward!” Stop worrying; we’ll get there.

While we’re getting there, it is nice to have a record as sublime as “the Navigator” to serve as our soundtrack. The city might have a heart of concrete, but what makes it beat are the hopes and dreams of the people that inhabit it.

Best tracks: Living in the City, Hungry Ghost, Nothings Gonna Change that Girl, Rican Beach, Pa’lante

CD Odyssey Disc 1327: Soundtrack

The weekend is here, and Christmas is just around the corner! Let’s celebrate with a music review, shall we?

Disc 1327 is… The Heavy Metal Soundtrack

Artist: Various artists

Year of Release: 1981

What’s up with the Cover? That, my friends, is a Tarakian. No, not the giant lizard with wings, the woman. What is a Tarakian you ask? Basically, she’s part of an ancient race of warrior women who guard the universe from evil green balls of hate. Kind of a cross between Wonder Woman and Red Sonja.

How I Came to Know It: The movie “Heavy Metal” came out in 1981. It was rated R and I was only 10 or 11. More importantly back then the theatres actually enforced R ratings and you needed an adult with you to get in.

Fortunately, my brother was 18 and therefore passed for an adult. In a classic awesome big brother moment he got me in, and I watched my first R rated movie in the theatre. It was awesome.

My brother also owned the soundtrack to the movie, which I remember was a double album that folded out majestically and where the Tarakian was many times the size of the puny cover photo you see above. A Tarakian that size leaves an impression on a young boy, I can tell you.

Knowing the album as a kid, I still managed to resist it for many years as an adult. Then I finally broke down about two years ago and bought a used copy on the cheap.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 34 soundtracks, which I admit is a lot, but who doesn’t like a soundtrack? It’s a “best of” record thematically constructed around a movie plot. I expect the percentage of soundtracks in my collection is far lower than the average.

Anyway, I’ve got 34 of them and “Heavy Metal” is not one of the better ones. I’ll rank it…24^th. I’d give you an updated list, but I’ve still got one more to review.

Ratings: 2 stars

Warm and fuzzy childhood memories aside let’s get real; “Heavy Metal” is an average record at best. It is a mix of songs I already owned but am always glad to hear again, songs I simply had to have, and songs that range from boring to atrocious. It is a grab bag of cheap jewelry at a vintage fair, worth buying for the one or two pieces you really want, and as for the rest – that’s what the ‘skip’ function is for.

On the CD Odyssey there is no skip function – a full listen, monkey! With this in mind I have divided the album into the three categories alluded to above. Note that I will not be commenting on all songs, so consider the partial lists below a sort of musical synecdoche.

Category 1: Good Songs I Already Had

Blue Oyster Cult’s “Veteran of the Psychic Wars”: One of my favourite songs growing up as a kid, and a favourite still. VotPW is off the classic 1981 album “Fire Of Unknown Origin” (reviewed back at Disc 751). Of course, it is the WRONG song to anthologize from an album that had a song titled “Heavy Metal: Black and Silver” and another – “Vengeance (The Pact)” – which literally tells the story of the Tarakian in the film (which admittedly would have made it only suitable for the end credits, but still). “Veteran of the Psychic Wars” is co-written by fantasy author Michael Moorcock and is about an entirely different fictional character, Elric of Melnibone. But whatever, it is a killer song.

Black Sabbath’s “The Mob Rules”: Off of the album of the same name (reviewed back at Disc 157), this song is a killer metal track from the underrated second Sabbath record with Ronnie James Dio on lead vocals.

Honourable mention: Journey’s “Open Arms” (original album reviewed at Disc 212). The circumstances of this song’s appearance in the film is one of the reasons it was rated R. I think it was a sex scene between a cabbie and a damsel in distress, but I can’t be sure because Youtube wants me to log in to confirm my age to check, and I won’t do it. I feel like my brother already vouched for me back in 1981.

Category 2: Songs I Had to Have

Sammy Hagar’s “Heavy Metal”: Balls-out rock and roll, without necessitating a full album full of music by Sammy Hagar. Hagar has drenched this song in a laundry list of whatever he thought was cool back in 1981. The list includes “head bangers in leather”, “sparks fly in the middle of the night”, and “tight pants and lipstick”. It sounds ridiculous but take my word for it; it all comes together. Don Felder also has a song on the album called “Heavy Metal” which is pretty cool, but there is nothing that competes with the phallic fury of the Hagar offering.

Riggs’ “Radar Rider”: A killer track with a surging energy built for driving a car fast down a lonely highway. Or in the case of the film, for an astronaut to drive his 1960 corvette convertible in space. The song would be brilliant all on its own, but I won’t lie – the intergalactic corvette helped.

Grand Funk Railroad’s “Queen Bee”: The song is a classic early eighties anthem, full of majesty and vaguely creepy attempts at romance (“I’m gonna steal you from your hive/steal you away from every man alive…”. The song has a slow building bombast that seems so natural you forgive it all its excess. The film version has neither bees nor (thankfully) abductions but it does feature a naked Tarakian going for a swim that was no doubt a second reason I needed adult accompaniment to see the movie.

Honourable mention to Devo’s brilliant cover of Lee Dorsey’s “Working in a Coal Mine”. Like their cover of the Stones’ “Satisfaction” Devo takes a great song and makes it better.

Category 3 Dear God, No…:

Donald Fagan’s “True Companion”: Here Fagan is without his erstwhile companion Walter Becker (they were on a break) but just like a united Steely Dan, this song gargles balls, combining the worst that prog noodling and Holiday Inn jazz lounges has to offer. Dicken’s Fagin merely corrupts the morals of young children; Steely Dan’s Fagan makes them listen to his music. I remain scarred.

Riggs’ “Heartbeat”: That’s right, dear reader, not all Riggs’ offerings on the “Heavy Metal” soundtrack are revelations in driving ecstasy. This one is all plodding guitars and over-production with no substance. It feels like a Soulless Record Exec’s attempt to manufacture “the sounds the kids are really into these days.” Not even a joy-riding spaceman could have saved this one.

For good and for ill, this album represents the most bombastic ridiculousness that hard rock had to offer in 1981. I always put Heavy Metal on thinking it will be better than I remember it, but it never is. However, it is still fun enough in places to earn a place on the hallowed shelves of my collection.

Best tracks: Heavy Metal – Sammy Hagar, Devo – Working in a Coal Mine, Blue Oyster Cult – Veteran of the Psychic Wars, Don Felder – Heavy Metal (Takin’ A Ride), Riggs – Radar Rider, Grand Funk Railroad – Queen Bee, Black Sabbath – the Mob Rules

CD Odyssey Disc 1326: Alela Diane

I was slightly delayed getting this review written because I went out for dinner with friends last night. I sometimes think how much better or more prolific of a writer I would be if I just hunkered down in front of the keyboard more often.

That might be true, but while I only have so many chances to write words before I run out of days, I also only have so many dinners out with friends, and those moments are just as precious to me.

Disc 1326 is… Alela Diane & Wild Divine

Artist: Alela Diane

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? The traditional Giant Head cover – and the second straight Alela Diane review to feature a Giant Head – only this time in profile. Profile or straight on I am a fan of Alela Diane’s Giant Head.

How I Came to Know It: I discovered Alela Diane through a Jim Vorel article in Paste Magazine about obscure folk records (there’s a link to it back at Disc 1000). I then dug through her discography, but at the time I decided one album by her was enough.

When she released a new album (2018’s “Cusp”) I initially decided not to buy it, but later changed my mind after giving it a second listen. Then earlier this year I was in Portland and saw her “Wild Divine” record and on a whim, decided it also deserved a second listen. And so here I am – surprised to be won over yet again.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Alela Diane albums, and all are good. I’d say I’m not getting anymore but recent experience has taught me not to be so hasty. For now, “Alela Diane & Wild Divine” comes in at #2, despite its unnecessary use of the ampersand where a word would have served just as ably.

Ratings: 4 stars

I'd like to call Alela Diane the Golden State Warbler. True, it isn't her nickname, but if you know your birds, it fits. The California-born folk musician sings like a songbird, trilling up and down through notes that few humans can hit, and fewer still can make musical.

Diane does both with ease, singing with what seems like abandon until you try to recreate it. Any such hubris on your part will almost certainly resemble the yowls of a strangled cat. It is then, mid-failure, that you will realize what an exceptional and inimitable vocal talent she is.

No caterwauling will be found on the tightly compacted 10 song, 37-minute effort that is Diane’s only effort with backing band Wild Divine. It is a joy to hear her tell her truths, sometimes dusky and mysterious, sometimes bright and clear, and usually both within the same song.

The alternate angle she applies to songs gives the record a wondrous cohesion, despite many different musical styles in the background. “Elijah” has a simple Gordon Lightftoot-style guitar strum in the background. “Heartless Highway” goes for a jazz lounge vibe that borders on affectatious. Both work because Diane’s delivery works as a magnet, pulling both styles to the center she creates.

Her vocals were so compelling that even after multiple listens I had a hard time paying attention to the stories she was weaving. That’s a shame because in addition to being a gifted singer, Diane is a born poet. The songs are lush and coy with their secrets, daring you to miss a single phrase and still piece together the story. Consider these lines from the haunting “Suzanne”:

“On the ceiling, hand painted flowers

In my heart, galloping horses

There was a death, forever lingers

Like the scent of antique roses”

The song is one long continuous poem, and just pulling those four lines it is hard to know where Diane is coming from, or where she’s going. If you want to know more, you’ll have to listen to it yourself.

Things aren’t perfect on the record. “Heartless Highway” barely survives the jazz-inspired arrangement, rather than benefiting from it. And I’m not just saying that because I don’t get jazz – although that is probably part of the reason. Diane also risks breaking the mood of “Desire” by spelling out the song title in the chorus (I generally only like my words spelled for me in a rap song). Fortunately, the song is just too full of restless ache to be denied.

To some extent, that restless ache permeates every song on the record. It may be a bit overpowering when you first hear it, but that’s just you having a case of the feels that you weren’t expecting. Give her a chance – and a second listen – and you’ll be glad you did.

Best tracks: Elijah, Suzanne, Long Way Down, The Wind, Desire, Rising Greatness

CD Odyssey Disc 1325: Hank Williams III

A-ha! I managed to get to three reviews this week after all, thanks to a lot of time spent wandering town yesterday doing Christmas shopping.

Note that I only listened to music between stores and never when actually shopping; Rule #4 was strictly adhered to throughout.

Disc 1325 is… Straight To Hell

Artist: Hank Williams III

Year of Release: 2006

What’s up with the Cover? Three rusty railroad spikes are a harbinger of this record’s rough and abrasive contents. It is also a reminder that the Williams family wasn’t terribly creative when it came to naming the boys in their family.

How I Came to Know It: A coworker introduced me to Hank Williams III back in 2000. When this album came out in 2006 I was already hooked.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Hank III albums and “Straight to Hell” is the best of the bunch - #1!

Ratings: 4 stars

Hank Williams really doesn’t give a shit if he offends you. If you can live with that reality, then “Straight to Hell” is an amazing – and offensive – collection of hillbilly country music.

After a couple of records that were comparatively tame (for him), on his third effort Hank sheds any remaining sense of propriety to tell you just what he thinks. This is Hank unfiltered and he spits it out in a way that lets you know he enjoys the freedom of it all and is more than happy to bask in the warm glow of our collective reproval. Like C.Thomas Howell in Red Dawn, all that hate just keeps him warm.

The record is a mix of bluegrass and outlaw country, full of songs told in the first person on such topics as Hanks’ enjoyment of liquor, pills and his thoughts on the state of the music industry. How much of this is singing in character and how much of it is Hank veritas? It doesn’t really matter in the end, but if these are characters, it is clear Hank likes speaking in their voice.

Williams’ main obsession on “Straight to Hell” appears to be the state of country music. His synopsis: things aren’t good. Hank III is a traditionalist and doesn’t cotton to the kind of country you’re likely to hear on a Nashville radio station. He appeals to his own country heroes, including Waylon Jennings, George Jones, David Allan Coe, and his grandfather, Hank Williams.

Hank III can be downright sentimental about his idols, recounting getting wasted while listening to their music on “Country Heroes.” He also wants you to know what he doesn’t like, such as these lines from “Not Everybody Likes Us”:

“Well I think I'd rather eat the barrel,

Of a double-barrel loaded shotgun,

Than to hear that shit they call pop-country music,

On ninety-eight-point-one.

Just so you know, so it's it's set in stone,

Kid Rock don't come from where I come from.

Yeah, it's true, he's a Yank, he ain't no son of Hank.

And if you thought so, god-damn you're fucking dumb.”

So we can assume Kid Rock will not be getting a Christmas card from Hank anytime soon. And Hank III’s not getting an invite to an award’s show any time soon either. The liner notes of “Straight to Hell” take direct shots at both the CMAs and the Grand Ole Opry as well. Hank’s got a lot of anger in him, but at least you know where he stands.

If it were just a bunch of angry opinions, “Straight to Hell” wouldn’t amount to much, but Hank III backs up his tough words with first-rate songwriting and a collection of some damned talented musicians. The band plays slow moseys and furious up-tempo tracks with equal brilliance. Hank’s visceral drawl staggers across the top of it all with the grace and balance of an experienced drunk. He is always right in the pocket, and right on pitch. It only seems sloppy.

All of what I just described is on Disc One, which is close to a five star effort. Unfortunately, Hank III saw fit to include a second disc, which is basically 45 minutes of rambling miscellany. This includes something that sounds like a 78 played on 33 speed, plus train noises, gurgling brooks, children laughing, and rambling answering machine messages. Interspersed through all of this are four or five songs that are OK, but not worth the jungle of noises they’re lost in.

As Hank III himself notes, “not everybody likes us/but we drive some folks wild.” Despite that second disc’s excess you can put me solidly in the latter category. Not to have him over for drinks, mind you; he seems like a bit of a jerk. But safely on my CD player? You bet.

If I were to recommend one Hank III album to hook a new listener, it would be this one. Just know up front that he’s got a lot to say, and that he doesn’t care if he hurts your feelings saying it.

Best tracks: Thrown Out of the Bar, Country Heroes, Low Down, Pills I Took, My Drinkin’ Problem, Crazed Country Rebel, Dick in Dixie, Not Everybody Likes Us

CD Odyssey Disc 1324: Sera Cahoone

I had resolved to get three reviews in this week, but a combination of pre-Christmas socializing and a very short walk to and from work held me to two.

I’m not complaining, however. It is hard to be upset about either seeing friends or getting home early.

Disc 1324 is… Self Titled

Artist: Sera Cahoone

Year of Release: 2006

What’s up with the Cover? Part of a photo of Sera Cahoone. She appears to be in a car – maybe she’s blindfolded and being taken to a surprise party! We’ll never know though, because of that decision to crop the photo. It does appear that she’s not wearing a seatbelt though, so if there’s a crash it will be one hell of buzz kill for the people waiting to surprise her. They’ll probably call the whole thing off, and head for the emergency room. And in all the hubbub the damned shrimp ring will be left out and end up going off, or get eaten by the cat, cat’s being notorious for never letting a crisis get in the way of a good meal.

But I digress…

How I Came to Know It: It was a bit of an adventure. I got to know this album when I was digging through Cahoone’s discography back in 2016. She only had three records then, and I quickly bought the other two, but do you think I could find her debut album? No reader, I could not.

That’s not entirely true. I found it on Amazon with one of those Amazon jacked-up prices they employ when they can no longer get something from a distributor. I think it must have been $100 or something ridiculous. If you resort to buying online, don’t fall for that trick and assume you can’t find it elsewhere.

I did find it elsewhere, for sale direct from Cahoone's website. This time the price was reasonable (maybe…$20 US?) but the shipping was some enormous amount, like another $10 US. That and the exchange rate put an end to that approach as well.

But I am a patient man, and I kept this damned record on my “to get” list for the past three years. Then, when I went to Portland earlier this year there it was; a used copy just sitting on the shelf, waiting for me to arrive. All is now right with the world.

How It Stacks Up:  With the addition of her 2017 release "From Where I Started"  have four Sera Cahoone albums, which is all of them so far. Of those, I put this self-titled effort in at #4. It is good, but someone had to be last.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Bill Withers once said “if you’re gonna do it, do it good.” He had quite a laundry list of things you could attempt on that song, but I think the underlying message was that you should put some focus into whatever specific thing you’re doing, and then excel at it.

On Sera Cahoone’s debut album, she has seemingly taken Withers’ advice, sticking to a few basic ingredients in her music: simple strum patterns on guitar, vocals that are confident but never strident, and even production that lets you take it in on your own terms. And yes, she does it good.

In structure the songs are country music, but if you aren’t sure there is plenty of mournful pedal and lap steel to confirm your suspicions. However, the introspective whisper she applies to instruments and vocals alike reveal that Cahoone has the soul of a folk singer.

Whether it’s folk or country, don’t expect displays of virtuosity on the acoustic guitar strums. A former drummer, Cahoone understands the percussive importance of guitar, and on these songs it reminded me of a mandolin in a bluegrass song, holding the rhythm so everything else – banjo, violin, steel guitar – can flare up around it with little splashes of light here and there.

Cahoone’s vocals are earthy and ethereal, landing emotionally somewhere between a couple discussing their relationship as they put dishes away and the snug of a crocheted blanket on a winter night. These are songs that scream “cabin in the woods”. Not the murderous kind that Josh Whedon introduced us to mind you, but rather the idyllic kind. The kind with a warm glow from the fire in the hearth and snow on the roof. The kind you’ll be seeing on some of the cheaper Christmas cards you’ll be receiving soon in the mail – but obviously nicer.

I did wish that Cahoone’s vocals would be higher in the mix, but that’s not her style. If you want to hear what secrets she’s telling you, you’ll have to pay attention. Unfortunately, the songs lope along so free and easy, they encouraged my mind to wander. Sometimes I was straining to hear what Cahoone was saying, and sometimes the tune let my mind wander to other places. I’d like to think those wanderings had an emotional connection to the song playing at the time, but I can’t be sure.

One song that did stand out lyrically, was “Couch Song” which was one of those ‘snug in a blanket’ moments that was less than idyllic. Cahoone sings:

“If we don't talk

I won't mind
'Cause it's the only way
To get along sometime”

Cahoone reminds us that sometimes a relationship needs to let a little silence reign. One day I hope to figure this out. For now, silence is not my strong suit.

However, if you want a crash course in how to be a little quieter and find some wisdom in the gentle curves of your mind, then listening to this record is a fine way to practice. It’ll all be over in a tasteful ten songs and 36 minutes, but I encourage you to go back and play it again. Your mind probably wandered a couple times in there.

Best tracks: Nowhere to Be Found, Last Time, Couch Song, I’m On Your Side, What a Shame

CD Odyssey Disc 1323: Beck

After a week spent with a single artist (Matt Patershuk) I’m eager to get a few different flavours in this week. Like at a fancy restaurant when they give you three different sorbettos for dessert. First up…something sugary-sweet.

Disc 1323 is… Colors

Artist: Beck

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? The debut album from the New Wave band, “Colour the Hexagon”. Nope, still Beck.

How I Came to Know It: I like Beck so when this record came out and the first couple of singles were promising, I dove in without hesitation.

How It Stacks Up:  I have ten Beck Albums. I won’t be having 11 any time soon, though, as his latest record, “Hyperspace” failed to impress. “Colors” is not remotely the best, but still manages to land at #7, bumping the three records behind it all down a spot.

Here's a full accounting since the last review:

1. Guero: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 538)
2. Sea Change: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 520)
3. Midnite Vultures: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 348)
4. Morning Phase: 4 stars (reviewed at disc 634)
5. Modern Guilt: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 288)
6. Mellow Gold: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 962)
7. Colors:  3 stars (reviewed right here)
8. Odelay: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 789)
9. The Information: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 150)
10. Mutations: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 187)

Ratings: 3 stars

Beck’s got a great ear for music, but sometimes his records feel more like the work of a great producer than a great songwriter. If it sounds good that shouldn’t matter, and “Colors” has plenty of good songs. However, it also has moments that feels more like someone vainly playing with a soundboard to make a boring song more glamorous.

Beck shifts his style around a fair bit, and it is rare he goes somewhere stylistically that I won’t follow. On his previous record, “Morning Phase” he hearkened back to the pastoral sadness of “Sea Change,” with amazing results.

On “Colors” he digs into the club-inspired dance sounds of 1999’s “Midnite Vultures.” Beck has a natural feel for finding a club groove, and for the most part he succeeds, but unlike “Morning Phase” here he falls short of his earlier inspiration.

This is a good record for a sedate cocktail party, where there’s a small dance floor close to the speakers for those inclined. It would also work for a vodka commercial, where tall women wear sequined dresses and strappy heels, and bros have three-day stubble and rolled up sleeves. One of these parties where everyone does a lot of toothy smiling at one another and everyone gets hammered, but do it klassy.

First, the good news. Even the obvious and boring songs on “Colors” still have a good dance beat. There is nary a tune that is offensive to the ear and some are downright funky, particularly “I’m So Free”, with its mix of falsetto pop singing, fuzz guitar and some kind of late nineties boy-band rap styling. This is Beck at his best, taking a bunch of musical notions that shouldn’t go together and making each complementary to the others.

“Wow” is a song that captures the happy side of being gobsmacked; that moment where the glory of the now hits you smack dab in the face, and you like it. Really, it’s just a bunch of effects and lyrics. The effect is the same as listening to that very high dude giving his late-night theory of life on the back porch of a house party. This song reminds you that that dude can actually be entertaining in the right circumstances.

“Up All Night” is the radio hit pure and simple, and justifiably so. It is perfectly produced pop glory, good for dancing, driving or just that damned toffee-nosed vodka cocktail party you were at earlier. I was not at all surprise to learn it was number one on US alternative radio, whatever that is.

Unfortunately, a lot of the other tracks, while inoffensive, rely too heavily on the sound editing tricks of Beck (and co-producer Greg Kurstin) to stay afloat. It is masterfully done, but it didn’t feed my soul. “Dear Life” feeds off a latter career Beatles inspiration, but it comes across more as “Magical Mystery Tour” at its worst, than “Sgt. Pepper” at its best. “No Distraction” and “Dreams” both energy to spare, but the bones of the song didn’t hold my attention sufficient for me to enjoy all the liberally applied seasoning Beck and Kurstin later apply.

In the end, “Colors” was a good name for the record. Like the American spelling of the word, it is easy and balanced, but it can leave you wishing there were a bit more organic mystery behind all that convenience.

Best tracks: I’m So Free, Wow, Up All Night

CD Odyssey Disc 1322: Matt Patershuk

Apologies for my absence, gentle reader. I went to a live show on Friday night and I like to spend the week before such an experience listening to the album supporting the tour, and generally reacquainting myself with their past work. This all takes listening time.

However, it also leads to this next album review, which I special ordered through my local record store in advance of the show.

To read about the concert scroll down, but first…the studio album!

Disc 1322 is… If Wishes Were Horses

Artist: Matt Patershuk

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? Patershuk pays homage to the old Players cigarette tin. When I grew up there were still old tins like this kicking around the house, where you stored all manner of things that would fit. Back then things were built to last! Everything except your lungs, that is. Those were riddled with cancer.

Patershuk’s version puts a bucking horse where the Players sailor guy usually appears, and a bunch of songs in place of the cigarettes. Songs can be habit forming as well, but they’re way better for you.

How I Came to Know It: I was already a Patershuk fan from previous records, and when I heard he was coming to play a show in Victoria I checked in to see if his new album had been released yet. Turns out it had!

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Matt Patershuk albums (having just bought his first release at the show). “If Wishes Were Horses” comes in third at this point. This doesn’t make it bad; it just means that he consistently puts out great records.

Ratings: 4 stars

When you listen to Matt Patershuk you get a strong sense that he’s a real person. The kind of guy you could have a pint with at the local legion hall. Even on songs where he’s telling stories in character, they feel grounded and honest.

The whiskey-worn tone to his vocal helps sell the experience, and his chosen style (something sitting between alt-country and barroom blues) doesn’t hurt either. He’s authentic and it shows.

“If Wishes Were Horses” is Patershuk’s third album. It stands strong alongside its sister records, which is no easy task, because those records are amazing. As with previous albums, the songs are sometimes deeply personal confessionals, sometimes gentle love songs and sometimes just a fanciful yarn.

The opening track “The Blues Don’t Bother Me” is a well-chosen starting point; a country song gilded along the edges with equal parts blues guitar licks and countrified pedal steel. You can fall into the story or skip all that and just tap your foot and enjoy the tune. It works either way.

My favourite song on the record is “Ernest Tubb Had Fuzzy Slippers”, which tells the true story of how in 1957 Ernest Tubb got drunk and tried to kill concert promoter Jim Denny. The song title comes from the fact that Tubb was so hammered he was still wearing his slippers when he arrived, waving his pistol around as he searched out the target of his ire. It is a compelling piece of Nashville lore that is rarely referenced. With all the major participants safely dead, Patershuk does us all a service bringing it back to life for a modern audience.

This being 1957 Nashville, taking a shot at someone over a concert booking dispute was apparently not deserving of serious time, and so..

“The police they came for Ernest, and they had to take him down

To the station because you can’t be drunk and shootin’ in town

Three hours in the clink, and a sixty dollar bond

He bought his cellmates cigarettes and sang ‘em Jimmy Rogers songs.”

I love the way Patershuk hangs “had to take him down” at the end of the bar, leaving you briefly wondering if Tubb was about to meet his maker. But no…he just gets thrown in the drunk tank.

Other standout tales include “Circus” which is both an adventure and a love story, as well as one of those rare “didn’t work out, but no hard feelings” type songs. “Let’s Give This Bottle a Black Eye” is another strong track, featuring a clever extension of a drinking metaphor I’ll let you figure out on your own.

Patershuk’s song writing talent is on full display throughout, both lyrically and melodically. He also does one cover, choosing the Grateful Dead’s “Sugaree.” I’m not ashamed to say I like Patershuk’s version better.

The production and arrangements are just the way I like them; crisp and clear. Patershuk’s songs are good enough to star on their own, and producer Steve Dawson artfully gives the room they need to work their magic as well as lending his considerable talent on the guitar. When an occasional piano or violin is thrown in, it is well-timed and welcome.

My only gripe would be the four short instrumentals, “Horse 1” through “Horse 4”. These are written well enough, and while they collectively add less than five minutes of playing time, I didn’t think they added anything significant to the record. Maybe I was just hoping for another story, to which I imagine Patershuk might say, “they are stories – stories about horses!” From there, we’d have a beer and change the subject, because we’re both chill that way. But I digress…

Patershuk is one of Canada’s best kept secrets and that’s a damned shame. He deserves to break big, but for now I’ll see the sunny side of his obscurity: I get to see him at a tiny little Victoria venue. On that note, here’s the review.

Best tracks: The Blues Don’t Bother Me, Ernest Tubb Had Fuzzy Slippers, Sugaree, Circus, Let’s Give This Bottle a Black Eye, Bear Chase

The Concert: December 6, 2019 at the Upstairs Lounge, Oak Bay Rec Centre

You might think a concert held in a Rec Centre lounge which ordinarily serves beer to people after they’ve played some hockey or had a swim is a bad idea, but in the case of the Oak Bay Rec Centre, you would be wrong. You would be particularly wrong if it was a concert organized by the good folks of Beacon Ridge Productions.

Apparently, this was a secret only to me. We arrived over 90 minutes before the show, expecting to waltz in and have our pick of the tables, but there was already a line up of 30-40 people ahead of us who were already in the know.

While we waited, organizers went down the line and traded our electronic tickets for physical ones. As someone who prefers having a traditional ticket as a memento, this filled me with joy. Not as much as I prefer my wife arranging the purchase of the tickets – I prefer that even more – but it was a nice touch. I have tried to get other venues (Upstairs Lounge, for example) to trade me for one of their surplus tickets in the past without success, so getting it without even asking was awesome.

It was an older crowd, by which I mean “even older than me” but these folks knew their business. When the doors finally opened they hit the room like locusts swarming a prairie wheat field, snapping up primo tables with a practiced grace. We were far enough forward in line we still managed to snag one of the best spots in the house. Here’s the view:

From left to right we have Daniel Lapp, Matt Patershuk, and Steve Dawson. Dawson also produced the album and is a virtuoso on guitar. Lapp is a virtuoso on practically everything else and Matt? Matt’s the star of the show.

The evening’s ground rules got laid down early by both band and event organizer alike. Adrian of Beacon Ridge made it clear this was a music listening experience. He was not kidding around. No talking during the performance, period. This was eagerly embraced by a crowd that were there to hear the music, not each other or the table next to them. It was sublime. I wish every sit-down venue in Victoria followed this simple rule. Why people pay good money to go to a concert and the talk over it or text on their phones is beyond me.

The band’s ground rules were that Patershuk and Dawson were going to share the stage, and trade picking songs throughout the evening. It lent a very folk fest feel to the evening that made you feel like you were being treated to a late-night kitchen jam, except all the players were awesome musicians.

And yes, they were awesome.

Patershuk’s vocals were on point and while he doesn’t have a lot of range, the intimate setting (maybe 200 people tops) and the absence of room chatter really let his storytelling shine. He played my favourite song from the last album (“Ernest Tubb…” see above) for which I was grateful.

The set-list was heavily focused on the last record, and I only identified one song all night from earlier work. This was a little disappointing, just because it is always nice to throw in some old favourites, but since I like the new record plenty, not a huge deal.

Patershuk has a gift for stage banter, and while he over-explained the backstory to some of the songs, he did it in a way that added to the experience. He also graced us with an infectious and very manly laugh that set you even more at ease. He was humble and deferential to his band mates and audience alike.

Steve Dawson took lead on every other song, and while his voice doesn’t have the gravelly and compelling tone of Patershuk’s he can hold a tune. His real gift is his guitar playing, which is a brilliant mix of various styles including blues slide, bluegrass and classical and probably more I didn’t pick out. His first song was a sublime instrumental rich with layers and emotional nuance.

As the evening wore on, however, his solos started to grow in length, no doubt encouraged by a gracious and enthusiastic crowd. It was always beautiful, but there were times where they took a little too long finding a song’s end point.

Also, while many in the audience were music lovers in general, I’m an ardent Matt Patershuk fan. As such, I selfishly wanted to hear more of his catalogue. Given most of Dawson’s songs were covers, I think a better balance to the setlist would have been two-thirds Matt/one-third Steve. That said, I did buy one of Dawson’s records and I’m excited to hear more of him.

As for Daniel Lapp, he was a revelation. Unlike Patershuk and Dawson he didn’t play on the last record, but you’d never know it based on his artful perfection in accompanying them on a myriad of instruments. By the end of the set he’d played a violin, a mandolin, a trumpet, and some kind of squashed trumpet (maybe a piccolo trumpet?). Here he is on two of them:

That thing on the left is a regular trumpet (no photo of the piccolo one, sorry...). The thing on the right is a Stroh, named for its inventor John Matthias Augustus Stroh. It is basically a violin with a couple of horns attached; a big one to project and focus sound out, and a small one aimed at the player’s ear so he can better hear how he’s doing.

Lapp was doing just fine by the way, on the Stroh and everything else besides. He was a gracious and attentive bandmate, who knew just when and how to come in on a song to make it better. He was a calming influence through the whole show, with solos that always served the song and not the other way around.

In addition to being a great stage presence, Patershuk made himself available in the lobby to fans. I went over and gushed a bit, and he even deigned to let me take a photo.

You can't tell, but Patershuk is standing on a milk crate. Just kiddin' - dude is tall.

Note I am wearing my Lera Lynn tour shirt, which I purchased at a show in Nashville in 2015 (see the review at Disc 792 for more). The merch table at Patershuk's show was a disappointment. Only CDs available, most of which I already had. I checked Patershuk’s website and it looks like he doesn’t even print tour shirts. C’mon, Matt – that last album cover would make a great shirt!

Overall, this was one of the most enjoyable concerts I’ve attended in a long while. Patershuk doesn’t tour all that much, so if you get the chance I encourage you to see him. You will leave smiling.