CD Odyssey Disc 1244: Hurray for the Riff Raff

Welcome to the weekend, world! This next review is one of my best finds this year, although it took two people to get me there.

Disc 1244 is… Small Town Heroes

Artist: Hurray for the Riff Raff

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover? Singer, writer and producer Alynda Lee Segarra takes a seat on an invisible chair located in the middle of Main Street, Small Town, USA circa 1950.

Ordinarily I’d be concerned for a young woman’s safety sitting in the middle of a street like that, but Segarra can take care of herself. She has also summoned some kind of protective circle festooned with the signs of the zodiac. Also circling her in a protective aura: a Puerto Rican flag, a yellow rose, a sun, a coin a hand and a bottle of tequila.

Most interesting is the symbol in the upper right – a circle with two arrows. This is hobo code for “hobos not welcome – get out fast.” Apparently Segarra used to ride the trains in hobo style, so this symbol would have come in pretty handy during that time of her life.

How I Came to Know It: I had thought I discovered Hurray for the Riff Raff through an episode of “What’s In My Bag?” starring Ethan Hawke. Hawke goes on about the band enthusiastically for some time (you can watch the Youtube clip here. The relevant section is 4:44 in but Ethan Hawke is so lovable and has such great musical taste that whole episode is worth your time.

However, as I was telling this story to my friend Randall, he reminded me that it was he who had brought a song to a music listening night from the band so Randall actually discovered them for me, then Ethan Hawke reminded me about them a month later. So it was Randall, and then Ethan. Maybe the three of us could all go get a beer and talk about music some time. Ethan – let me know when you’re available.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Hurray for the Riff Raff albums and of the two, I have to put “Small Town Heroes” at #1.

Ratings:  5 stars

“Small Town Heroes” grew on me and grew on me fast. It only came into my collection a couple weeks ago but I spent most of the work week delaying writing this review, lingering on its multifaceted beauty.

The creative force behind Hurray for the Riff Raff is Alynda Lee Segarra, a New York born, New Orleans-based singer-songwriter who writes songs that remind you of a mix of Steve Earle, Gillian Welch, Hank Williams and Robert Johnson. Those are a lot of big shoes to fill but Segarra’s got the talent to manage it. She writes songs that will one day be classics in multiple genres, if there is any justice in the world.

It starts with Segarra’s vocals which have a country crooner purity, with a seasoning of bluesy grit that gives them emotional resonance. She is able to turn the grit on and off at will, giving the record considerable artistic range. “Blue Ridge Mountain” is old-time bluegrass, “The New SF Bay Blues” is first generation blues stripped down to just guitar and voice and “The Body Electric” is modern Americana, enhanced with violin and horn. The record is a love letter to everything that has come before. It could easily feel contrived, but the songs are so original and are performed with such gravitas that it just feels timeless.

The record features exceptional musicianship as well. The guitar work on every track is so great I had to check the liner notes to see who it was. As often as not, it is Segarra playing. She has a relaxed and easy hand that had me thinking of her previous life as a hobo, riding in a box car or strolling through corn fields. Fellow Riff Raffers and guitarists Sam Doores and A.P. Baer also deserve mention for their excellence.

Lyrically every song drew me in, whether she is lamenting gun violence (“The Body Electric”) or just pining for a lover (“The New SF Bay Blues”) she draws you in on a personal level, her words reaching through the speaker and putting their hand on your arm to get your full attention. On the title track Segarra tells the tragic story of a drug addict abandoned but not forgotten:

“Oh baby girl, where did you go

I threw you out where the cold wind blows

Are you in Vidalia with your no good mom

I just couldn’t watch you stick it in your arm.”

Segarra has a talent for wrapping tough and tender into a single concept, with lines like “a woman’s heart it’s made of solid rock” and “I tempted fate, and I acted smart/I grew some callous on my heart.” She brings her characters to life. Sometimes she makes you feel sorry for them, but even when down they never lack agency, even though it is sometimes employed against their own interests.

Usually I am excited to see what the Odyssey brings me next, but this time is different. As I wrote this I am listening to “Small Town Heroes” for a fifth time in a row all I want is have a sixth listen, and then a seventh. But the call of the CD sea is strong, and so I must reluctantly part from Hurray for the Riff Raff; I have a feeling I will be visiting with them often down the road.

Best tracks: They are all good

CD Odyssey Disc 1243: Aimee Mann

I just had a lovely four-day weekend celebrating 22 years of marriage with my wife and life partner Sheila. While I like to joke that our longevity is due to the immunity she’s developed to my poisons the truth is, I just love being with her. Every day is an adventure whether we’re watching the Ligurian Sea wash in on the beaches of the Cinque Terre in Italy or snuggled under our blankets watching bad television in our living room.

Disc 1243 is… I’m With Stupid

Artist: Aimee Mann

Year of Release: 1995

What’s up with the Cover? Aimee raids a friend’s fridge. I am assuming it isn’t her fridge because I don’t think she has kids and those magnet letters are only on the fridges of people with kids.

Our fridge is festooned with old concert tickets, ribald jokes and commemorative magnets from all the places we’ve traveled. That’s what we get up to while you folks with kids are encouraging your kids to spell with magnets.

What’s the etiquette with those magnets when I’m visiting, anyway? Can I rearrange the letters and spell something new, or will this cause your kids anguish? I know if your kids messed with my concert tickets there would be trouble, so I try to be fair and not touch anything when I’m digging for a beer.

But I digress…

How I Came to Know It: Sheila introduced me to a couple of Aimee Mann’s later albums. I was quickly hooked and began digging through her back catalogue, where I found this album.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 8 Aimee Mann albums and they are all good. That also means that competition is fierce, and “I’m With Stupid” can only manage to land at #6, knocking “Fuck Smilers” down one spot and also beating out “Whatever” by the narrowest of margins. That battle with “Whatever” was close, coming down to the fact that I like Mary Shelley more than Charles Dickens. This will make sense if you keep reading.

Ratings:  3 stars

“I’m With Stupid” is Aimee Mann’s second solo album but it feels like it is the birthplace of the unique blend of folk and pop she would refine and master over the next twenty-plus years.

Her debut record “Whatever” has moments of this sound – smooth and sparse, with a blend of smoky crooning and folksy observation – but on “I’m With Stupid” Mann goes all in. The result is uneven, with some awkwardness, but for the most part it is a solid record that hints at greatness to come.

Mann sings low but with a lot of sweetness. Combined with her heart worn lyrics the effect is a lullaby that manages to soothe through doubt, giving comfort by showing that deep down we’re all a little unsure of what comes next.

On “I’m With Stupid” she is still perfecting her craft, and it has a couple of decisions I wouldn’t have made. “Superball” is a strained and over-extended metaphor that can’t even be saved by well-timed handclaps. “Par for the Course” threatens a similar bad metaphor early (this time, golf and horse racing) but redeems itself, slowly growing in intensity until by the end it becomes one of the record’s stronger tracks.

Mann has a knack for creating catchy minor-key melodies that are front and off-center, making you feel slightly displaced and emotionally secure at the same time. It is a record for coming to terms with injustice. On “Whatever” she bemoaned the lack of commercial success with “Put Me On Top” but on “I’m With Stupid” she sings “It’s Not Safe”, a song that upbraids herself for expecting anything different from the road less traveled:

“All you want to do is something good

So get ready to be ridiculed and misunderstood

'Cause don't you know that you're a fucking freak in this world

In which everybody's willing to choose swine over pearls”

It’s harsh but there’s an acceptance growing, a recognition that it might be aggravating to Mann to not be appreciated but she can take heart that the aggravation doesn’t magically cause someone to lower their standards if they're not built that way.

The album’s highlight is “Frankenstein” a song that talks about how you can only patch an imperfect love for so long before it becomes a monster. Mann expertly blends the cautionary tale of going too far with science, bending the metaphor artfully to relationships. She does it all with a lilting and irresistible melody, tripping over itself as it races from one mistake to the next until – before you know it – you’ve gone too far.

On “Whatever” Mann sang “Jacob Marley’s Chain,” employing it as a metaphor of regret shackling you to your past. Here she does the opposite, turning the ghostly chain of memories long past into a living monster, made flesh and consequence through a series of bad decisions. I told you I’d get back to Dickens and Shelley.

“I’m With Stupid” is a bit like Frankenstein’s Monster: a record with a piece here or there I wouldn’t have included, but once you get to know it, intelligent, intense and brimming with conflicted emotion.

Best tracks: Long Shot, Par for the Course, Frankenstein, It’s Not Safe

CD Odyssey Disc 1242: Belle and Sebastian

It is my first day of four days off and I decided to get an early start by writing a music review! This next one took a while because it was long and also new to me, meaning I needed a bit more time to grok it in its fullness.

Disc 1242 is… Push Barman to Open Old Wounds

Artist: Belle and Sebastian

Year of Release: 2005 but featuring music from 1997-2001

What’s up with the Cover? Is that the titular barman on the left? He does not appear to be pushing, more like studiously ignoring. The lovely couple in the lower right is not on the same page. She seems drawn to the barkeep’s aggressive disinterest, whereas he is more interested in the camera.

How I Came to Know It: My friend Chris’ son Kevin is now a grown-assed man in his own right. A while back Kevin and I were talking music and, hearing that I liked Belle and Sebastian, he recommended I check out this record. So…I did. There is hope for today’s youth after all. Thanks, Kevin.

How It Stacks Up:  When I reviewed “The Life Pursuit” back in 2014 I thought I was done with Belle and Sebastian at five albums. Since then I’ve purchased three more so now have eight. I debated about whether “Push Barman…” qualified, because it is technically a compilation of seven different EPs of 3-4 songs each released from 1997-2001, not a record in its own right. While this might qualify as a “best of” the fact that they didn’t leave anything out gives the record no curating advantage. For this reason I shall stack it up! Out of eight Belle and Sebastian albums I rank it…3^rd.

Ratings:  4 stars

Double albums are a dangerous undertaking. It isn’t often that a band can maintain consistent quality over that length of time, and that many songs. “Push Barman to Open Old Wounds” manages the feat, struggling at times under the weight of 25 songs but ultimately staying upright. How do they do it? Volume! Also, excellence.

I had seen the individual EPs that collectively comprise this record as they were released but could never bring myself to spending $10 for 4 songs. “Push Barman…” makes me both regretful and happy about that decision. I regret not having this music in my collection sooner, but I’m happy to have them all now in such a convenient package. This is particularly true in a time where my addiction to music has led to a dearth of shelf space.

Sometimes a band’s very early work can be disappointing, with half-formed ideas or poor production (the latter often the result of limited financing). Belle and Sebastian suffer from neither deficiency. The production is a bit simpler than what would come later but the mixing is excellent on all these EPs, with a crisp clear separation of sound that is full and round but gentle enough to serve the whimsical pop songs the band creates.

As for the songs, Belle and Sebastian have an art for writing a pop melody that rivals McCartney. The songs don’t have the same ear-worm quality, but they have the same effortless breezy lilt. They feel like it has always existed, rather than having been slowly coaxed out of careful, considered songwriting.

Stuart Murdoch’s vocals are airy and light, almost adolescent, if adolescents could speak with the world-weary wisdom of middle-age. His band has an orchestral quality, precise and energetic without ever lurching or reaching for a note. These songs can get pretty twee, with their artful observations on ordinary life and all the “feels” it can give you, but they do it so well you never feel manipulated.

Add to this the band’s talent for knowing just what instruments are needed to fill in the colour and you have a record that has stood the test of time. Sometimes piano rules, sometimes guitar and sometimes a horn section. On “Lazy Line Painter Jane” a reverberating guitar and the Kim Carnes-like vocals of gust singer Monica Queen give the song an early eighties anthem quality. It is just what it needs. On “Photo Jenny” a slow strum on what I think is a Rickenbacker gives the song most of its full and bright sound, and the horn section fills in the rest.

There are a couple experiments. The spoken word in “A Century of Elvis” feels like you are trapped in some Scottish airport bar having to hear a drunk at the table next to you tell about that time he met Elvis and “La Pastie de la Bourgoisie” is overwrought and the efforts to throw a French phrase in feels affected.

However, these moments are the exception, and the album overall has a surprising capacity to maintain its energy and continuity despite its disparate origins. It isn’t often I heap praise on a double-album, but this is one of those times.

Best tracks: Dog on Wheels, The State I Am In, Lazy Line Painter Jane, Photo Jenny, Beautiful, I Know Where the Summer Goes, The Gate, Slow Graffiti, Take Your Carriage Clock and Shove It, I’m Waking Up To Us

CD Odyssey Disc 1241: Lily Allen

I had a lovely start to my evening visiting with our friends Spence and Kim and their kids Eloise and Rosalie. Spence also brought me a copy of Buck Dharma’s 1982 album “Flat Out” on vinyl, which was a very big deal for me. I reviewed this record almost a year ago back at Disc 1123 where I hoped to one day have a copy in that format.

Maybe the universe was listening, or maybe I just have great friends. Thanks, Spence!

Disc 1241 is… It’s Not Me, It’s You

Artist: Lily Allen

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? Lily appears to have found the only comfortable way to sit on a giant “L”. My name also starts with L and I’m pretty sure I need one of these for my living room. I would not wear that dress, though; you can see from Lily’s pose she’s struggling to keep it from falling around her waist. For sitting, this L is rated “pants only”.

How I Came to Know It: My wife Sheila introduced me to Lily Allen. She found out about her through an old coworker and friend of hers.

How It Stacks Up:  We have two Lily Allen albums, this one and 2006’s “Alright, Still” (reviewed back at Disc 890). “It’s Not Me, It’s You” comes in a close second.

Ratings:  4 stars

“It’s Not Me, It’s You” is a record that will smack you in the mouth but do it with a smile and make you like it. It is sass-laden pure pop, laden with overwrought production. It is everything I shouldn’t like, but when it is done this well all is forgiven.

It helps that Lily Allen (with collaborator Greg Kurstin) has written such an amazing collection of music. These melodies are crazy brilliant, and all that aforementioned production is employed in the creation of infectious dance beats that enhance – but never overshadow – the clever production. Even when they go too far, such as the pseudo-rodeo bridge in “It’s Not Fair” it still doesn’t go too far. It is the musical equivalent of a bottle of champagne; delightful even where it is bubbling over a little onto the rug.

Lyrically the record is both smart and smart-assed. Allen is gifted at a saucy turn of phrase and she sings it with the artful timing of a spoken word poet. Like Billy Bragg she doesn’t lose her thick English accent when singing, and the effect makes it feel very street, even though the songs have been polished until they’re shiny.

Allen sings about a wide gamut of topics, both personal and political, and often both. “Everyone’s At It” takes aim at prescription drug culture, and how prevalent substance use (and abuse) is in our society and how no one talks about it. On “The Fear” she challenges consumerism, and “F*** You,” her song about George W. Bush, is about as pointed as the title would suggest.

Allen never loses her pointed sense of humour, even when getting political, and she turns that wit with equal precision on sexual politics. “Not Fair” is a song about a man who is perfect everywhere except one. Allen’s delivery is upbeat and sugar-sweet but her message cuts clear and sharp:

“There’s just one thing getting in the way

When we go up to bed you’re just no good

It’s such a shame

I look into your eyes and want to get to know you

And then you make this noise and its apparent its all over.”

Yikes. “Never Gonna Happen” is the reverse where Allen sleeps with someone, but clearly doesn’t like him as a person. Bottom line: the lady’s not for settling for half a package….ahem.

Anyway, near the end of the album she finally gets the man she deserves on “Chinese,” a sappy little song about wanting nothing more than a quiet night in with takeout food and the person you love. This song always reminds me of Alice Cooper’s “You and Me” which also captures the simple pleasures of doing very little with your favourite person.

My copy of the album is a special edition release that includes a bunch of acoustic versions, club mixes and bonus materials that push the song count from a tasteful 12 to a bloated 21. Unlike my recently reviewed Billy Bragg record, they are all on a single disc as well, meaning unless I am listening digitally, I’m stuck with all or nothing. It is a shame, because the acoustic songs in particular are good, showing the good melodic bones in a lot of the tracks but I wanted the original CD as its own set-piece.

Overall though, this record is a modern pop masterpiece. Pop music can age quickly, but ten years in “It’s Not Me, It’s You” is still as solid and fresh as ever.

Best tracks: Everyone’s At it, The Fear, Not Fair, 22, F*** You, Never Gonna Happen, Chinese

CD Odyssey Disc 1240: Cub

After a busy day of work, I had a nice start to my evening with dinner out with my lovely wife! We were complimented on our style by a fellow restaurant patron. This was very cool, but if you want to read about clothes you’ll have to go check out her awesome blog. Over here, we talk about music!

Disc 1240 is… Betti-Cola

Artist: Cub

Year of Release: 1993

What’s up with the Cover? The band, drawn in Archie comics style. I have no goofy jokes about this cover – it just makes me happy.

How I Came to Know It: I am a big Neko Case fan and knew that early in her career she played in a band called Cub. I saw this album in the “miscellaneous C section at the store and took a chance it was the record with Case on it. It was! She doesn’t play on all the tracks, but she’s on a few and the other drummer (Valeria Fellini) is great!

How It Stacks Up:  I only have this one Cub album, but I am now on the lookout for more.

Ratings:  3 stars

I purchased “Betti-Cola” unheard on a whim and ended up with an unexpected delight. This record is fast, breezy fun performed by three women (and a few guest musicians) whose carefree love of music shines through on every track.

The music is a mix of sixties pop, nineties alternative and surfer rock. They songs have a punk rawness to them but are wrapped in a sweetness that evokes summer days at the beach and dance parties. The songs are as simple as pop music gets. Most have an A section, a B section and not much more. Rarely there is a chorus and as for a bridge or a guitar solo? Almost never.

There is a lot of bass, however. It is a rare day that I listen to an album and think “my – that bass guitar is sure forward in the mix” but that’s what happens here. It is a good move, as bassist/vocalist Lisa Marr is the star of the show. Her basslines are what drives these stripped-down pop ditties, and her upbeat high school musical vocals (suitably darkened by their mature topics) are the perfect pairing for it.

As for production, the record sounds like it was recorded in a soggy cardboard box. Ordinarily this would bother me, and I’ll admit that I did keep turning it up looking for sound separation that never revealed itself. For all that, I didn’t mind so much. The songs are so stripped down that the raw organic format suits them.

And man, are there a lot of songs on this record. 25 in fact. This would ordinarily be a serious violation of my “14 songs maximum” policy but Cub is the exception that proves the rule. These songs are short. Only two of them exceed three minutes and most are under two. The whole record is only 48 minutes long and time flies by. On each one Cub gets into the tune, develops it, and finishes it off. No wasted verses, no wasted chorus (if there even is one).  There isn’t a lot of complication here – these are simple little pop hooks played a little bit silly, a little bit sad. They are a lot of fun though, and I never felt the record drag.

As for topics, they range all over and include sneaking out to shack up with your boyfriend at a hotel, a few songs about self-doubt a few more telling various boyfriends to hit the road and my favourite – “My Chinchilla.” This last one might be a clever metaphor, or might just be a song about a chinchilla:

“Satan sucks, but you’re the best

Holy smokes you pass the test

When I’m with you, I feel blessed

My chinchilla”

On “A Picnic” the boyfriend brings carrots and celery to the date. This seems to be playfully accepted by our narrator, but this line:

‘My mother told me to pick

The very best one and you’re not it”

Suggests that maybe it was not the right choice. Next time go with fruit, dude.

The album has four covers. One is famous (the Beach Boys’ “Surfer Girl”) but most are songs by other obscure bands contemporary to Cub at the time. “Cast a Shadow” by Beat Happening, “Tell Me Now” by Daniel Johnston and “Backwoods” by Windwalker all make an appearance. I tracked down all the originals except “Backwoods” and Cub’s version is as good or better each time.

As for “Backwoods” I’m glad I didn’t find another version, because that song is depressing. It is a much darker relationship song than anything else on the record, about seeing an old boyfriend and being reminded just how poisonous the relationship was:

“I saw you downtown and you gave me the eye

I saw you, and I wanted to cry.

‘cause I know I’ve seen you somewhere before

We had a life but it is nevermore

Now I’m alone in my room and I’m waiting to die.”

Other Cub songs explore dark topics, but they do it with a whimsy that makes it safe to sing along. It was good to hear them perform “Backwoods” which showed a lot of gravitas and depth.

Hearing this record, I imagined what it would have been like if I’d heard it when it was released. I would’ve been in my early twenties and even though I was heavily into Celtic folk music back then, I think I would’ve loved it.

Best tracks: Motel 6, A Party, Flying Carpet, My Chinchilla, Pretty Pictures, They Don’t, Someday, Cast a Shadow, Surfer Girl, My Assassin, Tell Me Now, Backwoods

CD Odyssey Disc 1239: Billy Bragg

I’m a bit worn out after a hard day at work but I haven’t reviewed an album since Saturday and I’m keen to keep the Odyssey sailing.

Disc 1239 is… Don’t Try This at Home

Artist: Billy Bragg

Year of Release: 1991

What’s up with the Cover? A collection of helpful public signs. Clockwise from left we have: “Wait Here”, “Caution: Unbalanced Teeter-Totter”, “Decapitation Hazard” and “Divorcee Soccer League”.

My cover of the album is a bit different, as I own a 2006 special edition re-issue, but I prefer to stick with the original cover so that’s what I’m featuring.

How I Came To Know It: I believe this album was a birthday gift from my friend Nick many years ago. It sparked a serious run on Billy Bragg albums, so many thanks to Nick!

How It Stacks Up:  I have 9 Billy Bragg albums. Of those, “Don’t Try This at Home” comes in at #4 which doesn’t earn it a medal but does earn it respectability. I feel like “Respectability” is the kind of word that would make a good Billy Bragg song. But I digress…

Ratings:  3 stars but almost 4

Sometimes Billy Bragg is political, and other times he’s just a sappy romantic, but he’s best when he’s a bit of both. On “Don’t Try this at Home” he finds the right balance of these two ingredients but makes a meal too big to eat in one sitting.

Bragg is a folk rocker with a punk edge. He’s like Frank Turner’s kindly uncle; not less edgy, just having the benefit of a bit more experience under his belt. “Don’t Try This at Home” is him transitioning from his early street busker sound into a more complex studio savvy approach. I enjoyed watching the two parts of his career come together. They don’t collide so much as they twine around one another, making each other stronger in the process.

 The album opens with “Accident Waiting to Happen” a vintage Bragg song, jaunty, edgy, brash and unapologetically political. There are plenty more that follow in the same vein, Bragg never being a shrinking violet when it comes to giving his opinion. “Accident Waiting to Happen” is the best of the bunch though, as he beats chords out of his guitar and lets his English accent soar over top of it.

On “Sexuality” Bragg calls for tolerance and diversity on a song with a jaunty Cure-like feel to it. It is actually cowritten by Johnny Marr, but I’m going with the Cure because it was too upbeat to be a Smiths’ song.

There are touching tributes to his father (“Tank Park Salute”) that’ll put a lump in your throat and anthems for English soccer fans (“God’s Footballer”) that won’t – unless you root for Wolverhampton. I do not.

The album’s absolute standout, however, is “Everywhere” an anthem about the Second World War as seen through the eyes of two childhood friends. One, a man destined to die fighting the Japanese in the Philippines, the other a Japanese American jailed for no reason other than his heritage. Bragg connects the two through completely different experiences that both exemplify the horror of war. The ending gets me every time:

“I never got home, my platoon was never saved

That little fox hole became my island grave

Lee got out of jail but a prisoner he remained

Till he ended his own life to lose that ball and chain”

“Everywhere” is one of my all-time favourite songs – Billy Bragg or otherwise – and a masterclass in telling a life’s story in five minutes or less. Or in the case of “Everywhere”, two life stories.

The biggest issue I have with this record is that at 16 songs it is too long. Knock it back to a reasonable 12 and this could be Bragg’s greatest work, but all that extra stuff dilutes the best the album has to offer.

This re-release also had a bonus disc of 14 tracks. That is a lot of bonus tracks, and most of it is just demos that don’t sound as good as the finished product. However, “Piccadilly Rambler” is a pretty sweet track about an indigent wanderer, and Natalie Merchant does a couple of guest vocals that give songs a novel approach. The best part is that since they are all on a separate disc you can play them or skip them as you wish. Other artists releasing bonus tracks could learn a lot from this practice.

While the record is a little bloated, for the most part wears it well and is a fine example of the brilliance, passion and optimism that is Billy Bragg.

Best tracks: Accident Waiting to Happen, Moving the Goalposts, Everywhere, Sexuality, Tank Park Salute, Body of Water

CD Odyssey Disc 1238: Chief

I had a good day at the record store yesterday, scoring six new (to me) albums. New records joining the collection are: James McMurtry’s “Complicated Game” (2014), Echo & the Bunnymen’s “Ocean Rain” (1984), Marissa Nadler’s “The Sister” (2012), Anna St. Louis’ “If Only There Was a River” (2018), and two Hurray for the Riff Raff records – “Small Town Heroes (2014) and “The Navigator” (2017).

I am particularly excited about Anna St. Louis who made my top ten albums of 2018 list even though I didn’t own it yet (I had listened on line).

I’ll talk about all those albums when I randomly roll them. Until then you’ll just have to wait or risk exploring them on your own. Do it! Go discover some new music!

Disc 1238 is… Modern Rituals

Artist: Chief

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover? Art, by way of math. I like this cover’s simplicity. It is also one of those cardboard sleeves that go over top of the jewel case, which I don't like. Underneath is the same graphic, but with a partly cloudy sky as the background.

How I Came To Know It: This album was recommended to me by a server in the Churchill Pub after we struck up a conversation over another artist - Frank Turner. She gave me about a half-dozen of bands to check out and I did the same for her. Two of her recommendations stuck; The Acorn and Chief. I found the Acorn album pretty quickly but “Modern Rituals” was devilishly hard to locate and took me a couple of years. When I saw a copy appear on Amazon with a “only 1 remaining” byline, I snapped it up.

How It Stacks Up:  Chief only released one full length album in their short career and this is it. That means barring a reunion, there won’t be any stacking up now or ever.

Ratings:  3 stars

“Modern Rituals” was a bit like an ocean swim. When I first started listening it felt cold, unemotional and not worth all the effort. However, once I acclimated, I found plenty of hidden treasure beneath the surface. The music still needs to be more emotionally engaged (a common problem in modern music) but there is enough solid songwriting and talent here to pull it through.

Chief was a California indie folk-rock band with a lot of qualities that bug me in that style of music. First of all, there is a lot of dense arrangements. Guitars echo, drums thump and ambient oohs and aahs fill in all the gaps. They keep good time though, which is critical if you’re going to layer so many sounds on top of each other.

I also don’t like the way the songs tend to come up with a clever riff and then just repeat it over and over in a “once more, with feeling!” kind of way. Note to indie musicians: take the time to write more verses! You can do it!

Mostly I found the vocals inconsistent. When he’s on, lead singer Evan Koga has a nice head voice that reminded me of old seventies folk-rockers like Crosby, Stills and Nash. It isn’t powerful but it feels sufficiently expansive to blend effectively with all the lush arrangements I complained about earlier.

When he sings lower, Koga’s style has an almost spoken-word feel, with a slight vibrato that was strongly reminiscent of other modern folk-rockers like Nigel Chapman (Nap Eyes) or Brooks Nielsen (The Growlers). I like those bands, but I found Koga sometimes sounds flat and emotionally disconnected by comparison.

Lead guitar Danny Fujikawa is the band’s star. Songs like “Breaking Walls” are best at the beginning when the production is still sparse, and Fujikawa’s precise yet organic runs can be fully appreciated. “Breaking Walls” exemplifies a lot of my conflict about Chief. Early on Koga’s singing is a bit off, but Fujikawa’s guitar is sublime. Later, Koga gets into his head voice and soars, but the production has now watered down Fujikawa’s impact.

While lyrically the album didn’t grab me, the songs do have a restful quality to them that lets your mind relax and wander. There is a hippy-dippy vibe to the music that feels like it is from an earlier time. It’s the kind of music you could find shirtless dudes dancing to out in the desert. At its best it made me want to take off my shirt and dance as well. It being winter, I did not do so.

My favourite song on the record is “Summer’s Day” which manages to blend Koga’s chest and head voice admirably, has that laid-back dreamy quality that is a big part of the band’s sound but leaves enough room in the production for the song to breathe. It even features a cool Fujikawa guitar solo.

“Modern Rituals” atmospheric qualities make it much better for headphones than for sitting around the house or driving. It isn’t perfect by any means, but it is something I can see myself pulling down to listen to on occasion, and so – for the first time in three reviews – I’m keeping this one.

Best tracks: This Land, Breaking Walls, In the Valley, Summer’s Day, Irish Song

CD Odyssey Disc 1237: Dar Williams

The last couple of weeks I’ve been digging deep into the back catalogues of artists. This next review is a cautionary tale that it doesn’t always make for good buying decisions.

Disc 1237 is… In the Time of the Gods

Artist: Dar Williams

Year of Release: 2012

What’s up with the Cover? Dar looks beautiful and sophisticated as she relaxes on a set of stone steps.

How I Came To Know It: I’d known Dar Williams for many years but a couple years ago I delved into her back catalogue in earnest. I identified a half dozen records that looked like they were worth getting, and “In the Time of the Gods” looked to be one of them.

How It Stacks Up:  While my deep delve into Dar Williams lifted my collection to six albums I’ve since parted with “End of the Summer” for not being good enough. “In the Time of the Gods” is the worst of the six and is about to suffer the same fate. Here is the full accounting.

1. Mortal City: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 85)
2. The Green World: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1070)
3. My Better Self: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 682)
4. Promised Land: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 907)
5. End of the Summer:  2 stars (reviewed at Disc 965)
6. In the Time of the Gods: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings:  2 stars

I think the concept behind “In the Time of the Gods” was so appealing it blinded me to its faults. I’d read somewhere this record was about Greek mythology. I’m a sucker for myth and I also enjoy concept albums and the combination no doubt played a role in giving this record more credit on first listen than it deserved. Consider me cured.

At her best, Dar Williams is an earthy folk singer with a bright vocal and a mind teeming with compelling characters and thoughtful themes. At her worst, she sounds like an out-of-touch aunt who at a family gathering who goes down the basement to hang out with the teenagers after having one too many daquiris; heartfelt, but awkward.

“In the Time of the Gods” is this latter version of Dar. The record benefits from her singing and some well-balance production - a little folksy, a little contemporary in just the right proportion – but the songs don’t hold up their end of the bargain.

Musically they are solid enough. “The Light and the Sea” has an anthemic quality that lifts you up and carries you along like a wave and “Storm King” manages to combine the restlessness of a storm with the reassurance of a lullaby. Something about the ocean as metaphor brings out the best in Williams and this is true once again, where these two songs are easily the best on the album.

Unfortunately, the rest of the record doesn’t manage the same standard. Musically it is solid enough, but the lyrics feel forced and Williams’ creative phrasing often gets too rushed and busy for its own good. It is OK to rush through a bunch of lyrics in a bar, but those lyrics better be lively enough to carry the momentum.

It isn’t that Williams lacks for good ideas. “I Am the One Who Will Remember Everything” is about the resilience of young children to forget tragedy (in this case war-torn countries and refugees) but also about those who are old enough to not so easily forget. Williams explores the tension between the happiness that young children can recover, and regretful that not everyone can move on so easily.

It’s a great idea, but the song has awkward phrasing and a minor-chord chorus that is supposed to create disquiet but instead feels like it has been awkwardly tagged onto the song’s melody.

“I Have Been Around the World” fails both musically and lyrically to the point that it made me a bit cranky. The tune feels like a love theme from a Disney movie, with a grandiose artificiality, and obvious lines like:

“I have been around the world

But all that I can see

Are these moments that we have

You’re all the world to me.”

That are supposed to be romantic but are just schmaltzy. Dar Williams is a gifted songwriter and hearing her sing-song her way through that kind of stuff was disappointing.

As for all that Greek myth I was promised, it was sparse and hard to find. I think “This Earth” is about Hephaestus and has some good ideas but they are buried in a song that doesn’t appeal musically. There are also some other references here and there that evoke other deities (I think I noticed Hermes, Artemis and Persephone) but it was all veiled to the point that it would require an open-mic style exposition to be sure.

There are snippets of great language on “In the Time of the Gods,” and there are even a couple of gems (see “best tracks” below) but for the most part it was too much effort to dig them out. I’ll leave that task to the next owner of this album.

Best tracks: The Light and the Sea, Storm King

CD Odyssey Disc 1236: Lucy Dacus

I’ve been discovering a lot of new music lately. Over the weekend I picked up Sharon Van Etten’s new album “Remind Me Tomorrow,” Graham Parker’s 1979 record “Squeezing Out Sparks” three Marissa Nadler records and the Phoebe Bridgers/Conor Oberst collaboration “Better Oblivion Community Centre.”

Fun fact: this next album is another artist Bridgers collaborates with, performing with her in the band “Boygenius.”

Disc 1236 is… Historian

Artist: Lucy Dacus

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? After the aliens from Close Encounters of the Third Kind greet humanity one of them received a gift of bubble gum from a small child in attendance. Tragically, the alien didn’t realize that the combination of the lighter atmosphere of earth – even more pronounced in the mountains – could lead to catastrophe!

How I Came To Know It: I’d heard of Lucy Dacus in my musical wanderings but hadn’t thought to go buy any album. Then my friend Mark bought me this record as a gift, which gave me a chance to explore her in more depth.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only Lucy Dacus album I have so there is nothing to stack it up against.

Ratings:  3 stars

Sometimes you can admire a record and still realize it isn’t for you. This is the conclusion I reluctantly came to with “Historian”. Lucy Dacus is a talented writer and singer with a long and successful career ahead of her, but there were elements of “Historian” that kept me from giving my heart to it.

Dacus is a dreamy indie-pop artist who sings with a haunting lilt. It is impressive that despite all the air and expanse in her delivery her tone remains rich and powerful. She’s like a ghost that haunts the parlour but you don’t mind so much because she sings so beautifully.

The record starts strong, with “Night Shift” a poignant tale of a relationship that has gone so wrong that the narrator takes a night shift just so she’ll see less of her partner who works 9-5. I’ve heard a few different versions of love songs where the love has gone cold, but this was a pretty novel combination of loathing, regret and avoidance. It made me think of stories when a couple breaks up under bad circumstances but neither one can afford to immediately move out.

The song has solid dynamics, ranging from the light echo of a single piano through to a fuzzed-out guitar reverb, with Dacus’ vocals providing a constancy that the relationship she sings about has long since abandoned. That fuzzed-out guitar reverb gets a bit oppressive near the song’s end, but I suppose that’s her point.

There are other solid tracks on “Historian” as well. “Addictions” has some solid jump and similar skill in moving from a sparse to a lush production and back again. “Nonbeliever” is a song of doubt and sadness caught in a strangely celebratory Gothic sway. It ends with a bit too much clangor, but for the majority is solid and compelling both musically and lyrically.

That issue of the clangor, however, pervades the record. A lot of these songs start off with interesting melodies but layer upon layer of production leads to an overlong flourish at the end where I would have preferred another verse to finish the narrative, or at the very least a musical tag to indicate it was “to be continued.”

To complain too much about this would be to do the record a disservice. The music is designed to evoke an emotional cue more than a narrative one. The repetitive churn of lyric and musical theme at the end of many of the songs is designed specifically to ramp you up and leave you in the moment of that despair or longing. For the most part it is well written and effective, but I just wasn’t feeling it the way it was intended.

Other times I found that there was a snippet of a lyric that gave all kinds of promise, but Dacus was content to let the single phrase twine around the music, rather than develop it any further.  On “Pillar of Truth” she sings:

“I am weak looking at you

A pillar of truth

Turning to dust”

That is cool stuff, but Dacus is content to use its repetition to establish a mood and I wanted to hear more about what came next.

The odd thing was that when I looked up a lot of the lyrics online I found some pretty thoughtful, soulful stuff. Maybe a few more listens would have lodged it better in my mind, but at this point it feels a little buried in all the hum of the production. I found myself longing for a sparser more organic delivery system.

“Historian” was one of last year’s critical darlings. Pitchfork gave it an 8.1 and Paste Magazine gave it 8.7. The more I listen to this record, the more I understand why. These are creative melodies and as an artistic whole, the record is a thoughtful exploration of lost love and the way that loss persists.

What it really came down to was personal taste. While the record was brilliant enough to shine through my own biases, I know in my heart I just won’t listen to this as much as it deserves. It could live in my house, but in my heart I know it deserves to be with someone who works the same shift as it does. That’s not me.

Best tracks: Night Shift, Addictions, Non Believer

CD Odyssey Disc 1235: Nazareth

I had a very busy week at work and was feeling pretty worn down by the end of each day. Fortunately, from Wednesday on I had this next record keeping me company on my commute, serving as the musical equivalent of comfort food.

Disc 1235 is… Loud ‘N’ Proud

Artist: Nazareth

Year of Release: 1973

What’s up with the Cover? One of rock and roll’s iconic album covers. Usually I follow that old superstition about peacock feathers in the house being bad luck, but for a record this good, I make an exception.

How I Came To Know It: This is the third record I ever bought. I was six or seven years old at the time and my entire music collection consisted of KISS’ “Destroyer” and Nazareth’s 1975 Greatest Hits album. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but I knew I liked two of the songs on “Loud ‘N’ Proud” because they were on the Greatest Hits record I already had, and the album cover was awesome.

I also distinctly remember wanting both this record and “Razamanaz” and only having enough money for one of them. The peacock in me won out – it wouldn’t be the last time.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Nazareth albums and this is the best of them. Perfection!

Ratings:  5 stars

Nazareth released two classic albums in 1973, this one and “Razamanaz.” Whereas “Razamanaz” is a masterful walk along the line between blues and hard rock, “Loud ‘N’ Proud” is exactly that – 100% balls to the wall pure rock and roll with no apologies. From the opening high hat of “Go Down Fighting” to the last doom-laden reverberation of “The Ballad of Hollis Brown” this album is a visceral blast of rock music with hints of punk and metal before either thing ever existed.

Nazareth as a band are strong throughout the lineup. Singer Dan McCafferty bringing a classic seventies rock vocal performance to every song. His voice is high and powerful with a controlled snarl. When he growls “starbright, starbright – you’ve got the lovin’ that I like” on “This Flight Tonight” his phrasing draws you inexorably into the groove Nazareth has infused into Joni Mitchell’s song, making it their own. He also makes you feel the hurt of separation and regretted decisions in every syllable.

McCafferty’s magnetism is borne out of a complete lack of artifice. On “Not Faking It” he sings:

“Tricky dicky was a fast talker

But his promises were always a lie

Nostradamus was a doomwatcher

Predicted when we're gonna die

Cleopatra was a love giver

Jesse James was a born killer

Me, I'm just a rock 'n' roll singer.”

This may read like a bit of a ramble on the sterile page but infused with McCafferty’s performance it sounds exactly like what it is: the truth.

However, it isn’t just about McCafferty. Lead guitarist Manny Charlton also provides some of his best performances on “Loud ‘N’ Proud”. On “Teenage Nervous Breakdown” he rides the front of the beat like a demon, turning a boogie woogie Little Feat song into a proto-punk blast of rebellion.

Charlton is a master of rhythm and when he’s great at creating energy by jumping the beat, on songs like “Child in the Sun” he’s equally solid sitting solemn in the pocket providing a gentle, soulful wail. His solo on “Freewheeler” is thick and rich and takes its time to develop naturally out of the melody. Fast in places, but not relying on speed, it draws you in and makes your spine tingle with delight.

Speaking of “Child in the Sun” this a song that I have been singing to myself for over 40 years. It doesn’t matter if I’ve just heard it or I haven’t heard it in months, it is always there in my mind, ready to calm me like a Buddhist mantra.

“Loud ‘N’ Proud” only has eight songs and three of them are covers. These covers are classic, iconic songs that Nazareth converts into something totally different and superior to the original.

I’ve already discussed two, but the third and last one may be the best. On “Ballad of Hollis Brown” they take a five minute Dylan folk song and turn it into a nine minute dirge that is the harbinger of modern grunge and doom metal wrapped into one. Charlton’s thick oppressive reverb guitar and the rolling thud of Darrell Sweet on drums add another layer of visceral desperation to Dylan’s tragic tale of starvation. A song so soul-crushing the only surcease for the hapless family trapped within it becomes a mass murder suicide.

I still have my original vinyl copy of this record, but this review is of the CD remaster. It sounds great, but I was disappointed that they felt the need to add four bonus tracks, all of them live sessions on BBC from the original year of release. These tracks show how great Nazareth were live in the day, and the inclusion of “Razamanaz” means if you only buy this album you’ll get that song as a bonus. Despite this, I wish this stuff weren’t here. “Loud ‘N’ Proud” is perfect in its original form, and the bonus tracks mar this perfection with their excess and repetition.

Back to the original record, which is a master class in how rock and roll should be played – with vigour and controlled aggression. I’ve heard “Loud ‘N’ Proud” hundreds of times – maybe- over the four decades it has been in my life. I gave it another seven or eight listens in a row this week and never once got tired of a single song. This is must-have rock and roll.

Best tracks: All of them, although I am particularly partial to Go Down Fighting, Not Faking It, This Flight Tonight, Freewheeler, Child in the Sun and the Ballad of Hollis Brown. The other three are also good.