CD Odyssey Disc 1275: Capercaillie

Most of my music listening gets done on my bus ride to work or my walk home. However, I had a lot of errands to run on Friday and it necessitated a lot of wandering around town, allowing me to get in a full listen of this next album.

Despite it being mostly chores, I did find time to duck into the local record store, where I grabbed L7’s new album “Scatter the Rats” and another Sabaton record, “Heroes.” Both are good, but more on those when I roll them.

Disc 1275 is… Roses and Tears

Artist: Capercaillie

Year of Release: 2008

What’s up with the Cover? Children play in a water park. I assume the water is either rosewater or tears. A rosewater fountain would be some kind of mystical blessed fountain – maybe a Water Park of Youth? By contrast, a tear fountain would be a cursed water park that feeds off of any drama that children have while playing and then absorbs their psychic distress through their tears. That last type of water park should probably have a parental advisory.

How I Came to Know It: I’ve known Capercaillie since I bought one of their albums at A&B Sound (a now defunct record store) in 1989. I picked my first Capercaillie album based on it having a lot of songs in Gaelic (I was really into Scottish folk music at the time). I bought “Roses and Tears” when it came out.

How It Stacks Up:  I have nine Capercaillie albums. I would have ten but I stopped buying them after “Roses and Tears.” Not surprisingly, it comes in last place.

Ratings: 2 stars

There was a time when if I liked a band I had to own every album they released. That time has passed, allowing me to realize that “Roses and Tears” would have been a fine Capercaillie record, if only I didn’t have eight better ones.

All the elements I like are still here. Karen Matheson’s voice remains one of folk music’s great treasures. Her tone is pure and sweet, with a mysterious quality that evokes woodland faeries or Middle Earth elves. She often sings in Gaelic which means I have no idea what she’s saying, but she makes it all seem very important.

Unfortunately, the songs in English didn’t feel this way at all. “Don’t You Go” and “Soldier Boy” are songs designed to be suffused with intense emotion. The former is a mother pleading with her son not to go to war, and “Soldier Boy” is about the terrible toll war takes on those who must endure it. Whether it is the smooth production (more on that later) or Matheson’s too-perfect diction these songs didn’t affect me the way they should given the subject matter. Strangely, “Seinneam Cliu Nam Fear Ur” - another song about the sacrifices of war - was incredibly powerful, even though I had to look up a translation before I knew what it was about.

Charlie McKerron is one of my favourite fiddle players, with a Scottish style that is rough and raw. Listening to it I can see why it was Scottish folk that first weened me off of heavy metal in the eighties – it’s just heavier than Irish or American fiddle playing. I like all these styles now but having immersed myself in a Mandolin Orange album earlier in the week, it was quite an adjustment. All that sprightly bluegrass playing from Emily Franz is glorious but very different than McKerron’s clarion blasts.

The McKerron fiddle tracks are my favourite songs on “Roses and Tears” particularly the reels where he can cut loose. “The Aphrodisiac” and “Rose Cottage Reels” have him at his best, technically perfect, but still suffusing every note with emotion and import. Listening to McKerron I was tempted to set aside my decision to part with this record, and I had to keep reminding myself I have heaps of his excellence on other records already.

It is the production that most lets “Roses and Tears” down. Apart from those fiddle reels many tracks feel artificially perfect. At times it lacks that organic quality which is what makes folk music soar. It doesn’t wreck the record, but it does make me yearn for other Capercaillie records that do all the good things this one does, only better.

Best tracks: The Aphrodisiac, Seinneam Cliu Nam Fear Ur, Rose Cottage Reels

CD Odyssey Disc 1274: Mandolin Orange

All hail the the four-day weekend! I’ve started the weekend right last night with a pleasant dinner out with better half, and now I face a lazy day with a few chores and errands, but plenty of time to accomplish both. Before I do either, let’s delve into the world of music, shall we?

Disc 1274 is… Tides of a Teardrop/Sing and Play Traditionals

Artist: Mandolin Orange

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? A somber and indistinct painting of a woman down at a pier. If I were high-cultured and genteel I might tell you this art is not to my tastes, but since I’m a blue-collar boy I’ll just say I don’t like it.

How I Came to Know It: I have been a fan of Mandolin Orange since 2016 when I discovered them through their five-star album “Blindfaller” (reviewed back at Disc 1064). I had only heard a couple of tracks off this new release but decided to take a chance given how great their previous two records had been.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Mandolin Orange albums. One of them has to be last, and it turns out it is this one so…#3. Still a bronze medal at the Olympics.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Tides of a Teardrop” is a subtle record, revealing itself slowly over multiple listens. I never experienced the wow factor that “Blindfaller” or “Such Jubilee” caused, but it was sneaky good.

“Tides of a Teardrop” demonstrates high end production values (which I like) and a bigger, rounder sound than previously. There are places where they pull in an old school country vibe as well and “Lonely All the Time” sounded so much like Hank Williams that I had to look twice at the liner notes before I believe it was a Mandolin Orange original (it is). Writing songs that sound timeless is a skill that few hold, and which band-member Andrew Marlin has long mastered.

This country sound was a welcome added dimension and gave the record more range and variety, although there were times, such as near the end of “Golden Embers” where the bass audio levels are a tick too high. Mandolin Orange are a band that plays very light, and any thump in that environment is even more jarring. This is not to take anything away from bassist Clint Mulligan, who is a gifted musician and when situated at the right place in the mix gives a great foundation for each song.

Atop that foundation, the talent of Marlin (mandolin, guitar, vocals) and Emily Frantz (guitar, fiddle, vocals) has not diminished in the slightest. These are two of the finest musicians in this or any genre, and they are equally adept at every instrument they pick up. Marlin has a laid-back tone to his voice that ambles its heart worn way through each song, and Frantz has a subtle seventies crooner vibe tucked into the corners of her folksy delivery.

Because of this surfeit of talent, I begrudged some of that aforementioned production. I wanted things a little starker and stripped down so I could appreciate all that great musicianship. For this reason, songs like “Like You Used To” which is crisp and full of bluegrass jump appealed to me all the more, standing out as they did against a broader set of stylistic options.

“Mother Deer” is a song about a deer alternately scampering about a field of clover or lying down by a country road. It is supposed to be a gentle pastoral, but I found it a little too…dear. If it’s a metaphor about Emily Frantz (her and Marlin recently had a child) then it is a strained metaphor and the overly cute play on words doesn’t help.

Much better in the nature metaphor catalogue is “The Wolves,” which has an insistent energy and some killer transitions from electric guitar licks to mandolin and back again, romantically referencing mother Emily to boot. And if you want a pretty pastoral, “Late September” will give you the same fix with a better song.

My copy of this record is the “deluxe edition” and included an EP of four traditional songs. Whether it is the source material or a conscious effort in production, these songs are played in the stripped-down way I had been longing for, and sound amazing. Standouts are the tragic romance of “Little Margaret” about a woman who dies and comes back to haunt a man who chose another woman over her. It is delightfully creepy and apparently dates back to the 17^th century.

“Little Dagger” is also solid, a tale of a girl who is guarded by her over-protective mother, who sleeps with a silver dagger to ward off suitors. Joan Baez did a killer version of it in the sixties (look it up), and Emily Frantz is also more than up to the task. The song sounds surprisingly like “Come All You Fair and Tender Ladies” although in the former we have a warning about a psychotic mother, and in the latter it’s the rakish boy who comes calling that is the real problem.

Even with the additional songs the total for both albums remains a tasteful 14 tracks and 55 minutes and I recommend the extended version if you have the option. This record is a worthy entry into Mandolin Orange’s impressive body of work and while I loved it less than previous records, it is still good and left me excited about what they’ll do next.

Best tracks: The Wolves, Like You Used To, Late September (and from the EP): Little Margaret, Silver Dagger

CD Odyssey Disc 1273: Blue Oyster Cult

Whenever I’m feeling a little down (which I am) this next band always seems to come along like an old friend to give me comfort. Ladies and gentlemen, the Odyssey’s house band returns.

Disc 1273 is… Tyranny and Mutation

Artist: Blue Oyster Cult

Year of Release: 1973

What’s up with the Cover? Bow down before the Ziggurat of Tyranny and Mutation! This is one of rock and roll’s great album covers. Stark, trippy and cosmic. I don’t know what dimension the guys who built this thing are from, but I bet they have good music there.

How I Came to Know It: I grew up with Blue Oyster Cult. My brother had all their records and I played them whenever I got the chance (or he allowed).

How It Stacks Up:  I have 11 of Blue Oyster Cult’s albums. I love them all, and with competition as fierce as it is, “Tyranny and Mutation” could only manage #7.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Tyranny and Mutation” may be the weakest of Blue Oyster Cult’s classic three first records, but that doesn’t make it any less a classic.

In their early career, BOC was heavily experimental, moving across genres with the carefree inspiration of a band that clearly didn’t care what people might think. They were out to make art and push the boundaries of what rock and roll should be. The record is loaded with urgent rock riffs, guitar and bass solos and general Lovecraftian weirdness. It has no business working, but it does, as the band navigates into the land of the strange without losing the churning edge that makes rock and roll what it is.

Because of this, this isn’t the first record I put people on to when I am trying to get them excited about BOC, but I know that given time its impressive musicianship and gargoyle-like beauty will win them over. In pop music, the anticipation of an expected hook or rhythm is what makes multiple listens increasingly enjoyable. With “Tyranny and Mutation” it is the anticipation of the strange turn of musical phrasing that draws you in.

As befits a record like this, there were no hits and nor do fans care about their absence. The single was “Hot Rails to Hell” which is a feverish energy-laden garage rock song, before garage rock was a thing. It is great fun, and the band still plays it in concert to this day, but it isn’t even close to my favourite track.

That would be “Wings Wetted Down,” a song I first remember hearing around the age of 6 or 7 when my brother put it on, partly to freak out his younger brother, but mostly because he wanted to share the magic of a brilliant deep cut he had discovered.

The song begins with a discordant guitar riff bouncing around in a minor key, a drum flourish and then the vocals of bassist Joe Bouchard. Blue Oyster Cult is one of the few bands that legitimately has multiple vocalists, and while Eric Bloom sings the majority of the songs, both Joe Bouchard and guitarist Buck Dharma frequently take a turn.

Bouchard and his brother (drummer Albert) also do plenty of writing, and they are often the strangest songs in Blue Oyster Cult’s catalogue. “Wings Wetted Down” is no exception, starting with the aforementioned disturbia of rock and roll repurposed, an ominous like a beast slouching toward Bethlehem as Joe’s vocals cut in with:

“Flights of black horsemen

Soar o’er churches

Pursued by an army of birds in the rain”

As a kid I wasn’t sure what was going on, but the song’s rhythms and ominous tune told me it was portentous. Years later, I still love it like its my first time hearing it.

There are also bluesy bar riffs, such as on the laid back “O.D.’ed on Life Itself” which has a bar-band swing and a clever arrangement reminding you that producer Sandy Pearlman (who cowrote this and three other tracks) may not have played an instrument but was very much a part of the band.

“7 Screaming Diz-Busters” brings in all the elements. Jazz progressions, funky bass lines and proggy shifts of tempo and (I think) time signatures. The song is seven minutes of excess but all it does is leave you wanting more.

All this and I haven’t even mentioned one of rock and roll’s great guitar players, Buck Dharma. Dharma is solid as ever, and once again selflessly letting his brilliance sit evenly in the mix with his band mates. This record has his style sounding rougher around the edges as the band explores a more organic approach to the music, but he still manages to drop some ridiculous solo work, subtly woven into the broader architecture of each song.

I don’t have anything bad to say about “Tyranny and Mutation.” It is very weird, so brace yourself for that, but if you open yourself up to that weirdness, you are in for a fantastic journey through the beautiful, misshapen heart of rock and roll.

Best tracks: The Red & the Black, O.D.’ed on Life Itself, 7 Screaming Diz-Busters, Wings Wetted Down

CD Odyssey Disc 1272: Josh Ritter

I wrote this review on Wednesday, but held back publishing it so I could pair it with my review of my experience at Ritter’s concert in Vancouver on Saturday. However, earlier today Ritter cancelled his show due to issues with his voice.

Argh. I am torn between frustration at the cancelled show and the realization that seeing him sing his songs poorly wouldn’t have been any better.

Disc 1272 is… Fever Breaks

Artist: Josh Ritter

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? Following the young king’s untimely death everyone agreed that holding the coronation ceremony on a flood plain had been a case of poor planning.

How I Came to Know It: It is a new Josh Ritter album. I like Josh Ritter a lot, so checked this album out as soon as it was released.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five of Josh Ritter’s ten albums and I like to think I have his best five. With that in mind when I say “Fever Breaks” ranks 4^th best remember that while that’s near the bottom of my collection, it is near the top of his overall body of work.

Ratings: 4 stars

After a couple of recent Josh Ritter albums that were good but not top five material, “Fever Breaks” was a return to form.

Ritter’s style often varies from record to record. On “Fever Breaks” he works in a driving rock and roll sound, fueled in part by his collaboration with Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit. Isbell produced the record and the result is exactly what you’d hope for: a mix of Isbell’s southern alt-country grit and Ritter’s melodic whimsy.

The combination is seamless and would make for a great double bill with Isbell. If you’re looking to make up the cancellation with me Josh, that would do it. Just sayin’. Regardless, I felt Jason’s ghost and unseen hand all over the production.

The record is well paced and starts with songs (“Ground Don’t Want Me”, “Old Black Magic”) that have high energy, designed to get your attention. They do that ably, but for me the record really gets moving when Ritter slows down and lets you slow-soak in melodies that reveal raw honesty and a healthy dollop of romanticism.

Sometimes, as with “On the Water” love is a miracle, simultaneously impossible and full of ease, “just a short walk on the water.” Ritter catches the tension of love’s pull, referring to his heart as just “a silver fish on the line of your laughter.”

Other times, like on “I Still Love You (Now and Then),” love is just a memory, coming back to haunt you through time. The lyrics are painful, but the tune has a hopeful, confident chord progression that lets you know he’ll get through the worst of it.

Ritter also gets political at times, but always grounds it in personal experience. “All Some Kind of Dream” is a Dylanesque reverie about how America has lost the open heart it once had for newcomers. “The Torch Committee” is a dystopian exploration of institutional injustice, where those responsible for passing judgment do so from structures designed to shield them from culpability. Or as the committee opines on the song:

“And though you know that we take pains

The process of the law remains

All technicalities aside

You see our hands are also tied.”

In the end, the accused has one way to escape punishment – find others to take their place. It is one of the most troubling forms of violence; the kind perpetrated by those coopted by an unjust cause to turn on their own.

Ritter has a bit of Leonard Cohen in his delivery of “The Torch Committee” (albeit with a lot less gravel) and it is one of many songs that draws on a rich singer-songwriter tradition. In addition To Cohen and Dylan, and with its piano trills and Southern U.S. everyman pastiche, “A New Man” had me thinking of Bob Seger, if Seger sang folk music.

“Blazing Highway Home” sounded a bit too much like Steve Earle’s “Goodbye” for my tastes, but it is just a case of there being only so many chords and guitar strums after you’ve heard a lot of music. It wasn’t a Miranda Lambert level offence like “Kerosene”, so much as a future opportunity for the girls of “Pitch Perfect” to do a mash-up.

“Fever Breaks” features Ritter’s usual amazing songwriting, and the injection of Jason Isbell’s music sensibilities gives him a whole new palette of sound to play with. Listening to it filled with me with a fever of my own; a fever to hear it performed live at the Vogue. Unfortunately, this was not to be.

Best tracks: On the Water, I Still Love You (Now and Then), The Torch Committee, All Some Kind of Dream, A New Man

CD Odyssey Disc 1271: Eminem

Happy Monday, gentle reader! Monday is not the greatest day of the work week, but like a lot of things, it’s a lot better with music.

Disc 1271 is… The Slim Shady LP

Artist: Eminem

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? The events of the troubling track “‘97 Bonnie & Clyde” are depicted as Eminem’s alter-ego prepares to toss his girlfriend’s body into the sea. If you find this image troubling, then take a hint from Tipper Gore’s Parental Advisory logo in the upper left corner and avoid the album altogether. Maybe skip the review as well - this stuff is dark. However, if you do you’ll be missing out on some amazing music. Tipper probably misses out on all kinds of good music as a result.

How I Came to Know It: This was a pretty big album back in the day but I wasn’t into rap when it came out. I admired the music but didn’t buy it. Instead, I did a deep dive into Eminem a couple years ago and this was one of the standouts.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Eminem albums, this one and its follow up “The Marshall Mathers LP”. They are both amazing records and competition is fierce between them. I’ll rank “The Slim Shady LP” at #2.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Eminem’s first commercial release has a mission, and part of that mission is to shock you. If you can handle that shock, your reward will be one of rap music’s great records.

This record features drug abuse, robbery, violence (sexual and otherwise) and a general miasma of angry misanthropy. “How in the world can that be great art?” the Tipper Gore’s of the world may ask. Well, paintings like Gericault’s “The Raft of the Medusa” or Picasso’s “Guernica” reminds us, not every great piece of art is going to depict water lilies and starry nights. Sometimes art disturbs us. While Eminem may not intend as broad a social commentary as some, his words paint pictures as deftly as any visual artist.

At the centre of it all, Eminem gets to the core of the quintessential angry young man, disenfranchised and ready to lash out at anything. There is a brilliance in how he walks a line between myth and reality, weaving the rough experiences of Marshall Mathers struggles to emerge as a successful rapper with the persona of his alter ego, “Slim Shady”, a leering gargoyle character.  Shady pushes everything that Mr. Mathers can think of three steps too far. Like a Cubist painting, Eminem distorts and amplifies his horrors, so you can see them from all angles at once.

Along the way, Eminem reminisces about Kurt Cobain’s death, tells a story about murdering his girlfriend and then – in case it wasn’t clear – drops two tracks (dis)respectfully titled “Just Don’t Give a Fuck” and “Still Don’t Give a Fuck” in case the first iteration didn’t make the point.

Those who let all of that offense get to them and turn the record off miss out on a rap genius. Eminem has one of the most impressive, innovative, unique and instantly recognizable flows in rap music. His internal rhyme structures are exceptional, and he can rattle off three or four in a row or delay the punchline unexpectedly into the next beat with equal grace.

All those clever rhymes aren’t randomly thrown together either, they are weaved into a narrative that reads like a mini-novel. “My Fault” tells the story of a single nightmarish night trying to deal with the fact that Eminem’s date has eaten a bag of mushrooms. It reads like one of those “single night” teen party movies, except with an undercurrent of possibly lethal overdose. Eminem won’t give you a laugh without also making sure you feel uncomfortable in the process.

 “Rock Bottom” has Eminem singing the frustrations of poverty and obscurity. You can feel him seethe through the lyrics showing that he is equally willing to go dark without the humour.

And lest you take anything he says too seriously, Eminem includes “Role Model” to remind you not to behave like him. How much of Eminem is the villainous and disrespectful Slim Shady of the album title, and how much is just a character? “Role Model” reminds you that it doesn’t matter. Eminem is blurring those lines deliberately and if that frustrates you, well then it means you’re paying attention.

Is “the Slim Shady LP” an angry record? Without question. Does it go too far – most likely yes, and that is definitely a big part of Eminem’s intention. My biggest beef with the record is all the overly clever little quips and “whoops!” and other dialogue bits distracting from what are some otherwise pretty killer beats. Even that is part of Eminem’s pattern; excess in all things, even production. I almost got mad about it before I remembered…that’s what he wants.

Best tracks: My Name Is, Brain Damage, Role Model, My Fault, Just Don’t Give a Fuck, Still Don’t Give a Fuck

CD Odyssey Disc 1270: Graham Parker and the Rumour

I watched my beloved Boston Bruins lose in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup final last night. It still hurts. It helps that we won it all in 2011 but losing in the final is a worse feeling than missing the playoffs altogether. Falling only a single game short is about as bad as that feeling gets. Argh.

Anyway, I can now gear up to watch football where my beloved Miami Dolphins have next to no chance to lose in the Super Bowl. Given how I’m feeling right now, that’s probably just as well.

Disc 1270 is… Squeezing Out Sparks

Artist: Graham Parker

Year of Release: 1979

What’s up with the Cover? 1979 was equally unkind to haircuts, wardrobes and fonts.

How I Came to Know It: I heard about this record through a Paste Magazine article titled “Top 30 albums of 1979” where it came in at #23. I already owned 10 of the albums they chose but four more caught my attention. One of those was “Squeezing Out Sparks”.

How It Stacks Up:  Graham Parker has 23 albums and I did check out a few other ones, but so far “Squeezing Out Sparks” is easily the best. That said, since I only own the one record, there is no official stacking to be had.

Ratings: 4 stars

Late seventies British New Wave is not my usual thing, but the universe throws out incredible records in every style to make sure you keep paying attention. “Squeezing Out Sparks” tested my resolve, with its cheesy album cover promising lots of overwrought anxiety rock.

Once the music started, I was pleasantly surprised by a record that has all the frenetic energy of New Wave but with a purposeful rock and roll heart at the centre of it all. The result made me want to get up and dance but never felt contrived. “Protection” in particular has a killer rhythm that will make it hard to decide if you want to cut some of your best moves on the side of the floor, or leap into the middle of the slam and bounce around.

Even slightly kitschy songs like “Discovering Japan” had their moments, and when Parker slows it down for tear jerkers “You Can’t Be Too Strong” you get a great combination of tough and sensitive. It won’t make you cry, but it might have you staring pale and wan out a window.

I felt drawn in by the acoustic guitar strum on “You Can’t Be Too Strong” with its mournful down strokes. While these songs don’t challenge the players at a technical level, they do require everyone to sit artfully at the front of the pocket where this music sounds best. The band not only does this masterfully, they also play with emotional intention, which is too often given short shrift in this genre.

Parker’s vocals reminded me a bit of Elvis Costello, only he wasn’t annoying and pretentious like Costello sometimes sounds. Parker even adds a bit of a rock and roll snarl to his delivery like Joe Jackson. He’s not just sitting back and putting on an art show, he’s climbing into the stories of his songs and getting beautifully lost.

Those stories are pretty basic, not having much to say beyond the chorus. Even this is often little more than the title repeated. But hearing Parker sing “You Can’t Be Too Strong” or “Passion Is No Ordinary Word” over and over again is surprisingly affecting.

The record has grade A production, reminding me favourably of another 1979 album, “Damn the Torpedoes.” It isn’t at the same level as that masterpiece, but it has the same crisp clean production and metallic bite that lets you feel the visceral energy of the tunes.

The only song that let me down was “Waiting for the UFOs” which Parker pronounces as “you-foes.” It is an irksome affectation that is intended to add energy, but the album already has plenty to spare without such silliness.

My copy of the album was a remastered version that includes a live version of the entire record called “Live Sparks”. I could have lived without this bonus material, which is on the same CD and makes the playing time an unwieldy 78 minutes. The live versions of the same songs are sometimes a bit better, sometimes not, but failed to give me any additional insight into the record either way. Parker also does a version of the Jackson 5 classic “I Want You Back” which is OK, but not essential.

Fortunately this record is so consistently brilliant that I was able to overlook my usual pet peeves and just enjoy hearing the record play one more time, live or otherwise. “Squeezing Out Sparks” is a hidden gem that deserves to be recognized as one of 1979’s best – thank you Paste Magazine for making sure I learned that.

Best tracks: Local Girls, You Can’t Be Too Strong, Passion Is No Ordinary Word, Protection

CD Odyssey Disc 1269: Metric

It was my first day back at work today after 10 days off and I’m a bit knackered. I guess that’s why they call it work.

Disc 1269 is… Fantasies

Artist: Metric

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? A light bulb with very little power or an idea that isn’t terribly original.

How I Came to Know It: I originally heard about them through the video for their 2005 song “Poster of a Girl.” When I reviewed that record (2005’s “Live It Out” I repeatedly mis-name the song as “Portrait of a Girl”. I’m not going to correct it but will instead live with the shame.

How It Stacks Up:  Metric has seven albums, but I only have three of them. I had originally left the top spot open for “Fantasies” but now that all three are under my belt I’m going to give the title to 2005’s “Live It Out” and drop “Fantasies” back into second place. Since this is my last Metric review, here’s a full recap:

1. Live It Out: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 312)
2. Fantasies: 3 stars (reviewed right here)
3. Old World Underground, Where Are You Now?: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 95)

Ratings: 3 stars

“Fantasies” saw Metric trade in their early indie pop sound for a more commercially friendly stadium anthem sound. It isn’t a sell-out, however; it is a natural progression of their sound, which always had the potential to go in that direction.

The resulting album is a bit uneven, but not because of the artistic choices. If anything, the same thing that holds previous Metric albums back applies here as well: they tend to imagine their songs to be a bit cleverer than they actually are. This can lead to unexpected artistic turns that don't necessarily make the song better.

What is good here is very good, with Emily Haines easily embracing her role as pop diva. Her vocals are equal parts alternative rocker girl and seductive starlet. The production is thick – even fuzzy in places – but it creates a big sound that makes everything feel Very Important. The songs have an urgent energy to them that fills your mind with images of laser light shows and flashing floodlights.

The sound worked for them commercially. This is the first record to chart and spawned three #1 hits on Canadian alternative radio (I’m told, I don’t listen to the radio). In any event, Metric had been making interesting music for a number of years and it was good to see them do well commercially.

For the most part, it is the radio hits that are my favourites on the record. The opener, “Help, I’m Alive” is a glorious anthem that mixes Haines’ sugar-sweet vocals with a surprisingly crunchy guitar. The song construction has a lot going on for a pop song but never feels weighed down as a result. As an A&R man would say “I think we’ve got a hit on our hands!” – and they did.

They never achieve the lofty heights of “Help, I’m Alive” on the album again, but they do manage to maintain the momentum it generates. The final track, “Stadium Love” ensures that the album’s book ends are also its best parts with another anthem, this time complete with plenty of enthusiastic “woo-hoo-woo-ooo” sounds in case you weren’t already sufficiently amped.

In between the record is solid, although “Twilight Galaxy” and “Collect Call” both feel a bit overly ambitious. They are dressed up in all the fanfare of the album’s production, but here it is an ill-fitting suit, too slick and polished for all the art-school experiments underneath.

My biggest beef with “Fantasies” isn’t about the record at all, but the concert experience I associate with it. I saw them live on this tour, and the show was one of those ones that is so underwhelming it sucks some of the future joy out of the studio album. It was at a big stadium show, and the audience were the most singularly out-of-time crowd I’ve ever seen, as they danced off the beat and sang along out of time. Many were clearly there for the experience, and not the band. Metric tried, but far away as they were, even they didn’t have the gravitas to ground the experience.

I wouldn’t go see Metric alive again, but “Fantasies” remains a solid record. I don’t put it on often, but it remains a keeper.

Best tracks: Help I’m Alive, Sick Muse, Stadium Love

CD Odyssey Disc 1268: 10cc

My apologies for my long absence, gentle readers. I’ve been on vacation and haven’t found the listening time to keep the Odyssey sailing. I did listen to plenty of music, but it was often in the context of doing other activities at the same time, and thus excluded from Odyssey time based on Rule #4.

I did manage to sneak a few Rule-adhering listens to this next record however, the most recent one today while doing a little painting.

Disc 1268 is… How Dare You!

Artist: 10cc

Year of Release: 1976

What’s up with the Cover? Various characters from gritty B-movie dramas put on their best “how dare you!” faces and then make angry phone calls to one another. On the front cover we have a business executive and his alcoholic housewife. Her: “I found her underwear under our bed, Howard. Who is she? Who is she?!?” Him: “Drunk at 10 am again, Margaret? How pathetic.” Her: “You sorry sonofabitch – I’m gonna take you for every penny you own. Every penny!”

In the second picture (which I assume was on the back of the original vinyl, but for me was on the back of the CD booklet) we have some scurrilous looking dirtbag and an airline stewardess. Him: “Is that you Howard? I’ve done it – the cops’ll just think she was drunk and fell down the stairs. Now you and that airline stewardess can run off together like you planned.” Her: speechless, as she realizes that the guy thinks it is Howard on the other end of the line. Howard did keep his promise to end it with Margaret – only not in the way she was expecting.

When Howard comes out of the shower, she’ll have to decide just how far she’ll go for love. The move to Spain seemed pretty far, but accomplice to murder? That is a very foreign shore indeed.

Let’s leave her to consider this little moral conundrum and return to the music review, shall we?

How I Came to Know It: Sheila’s friend Ally introduced me to 10cc by sending along a track from their 1975 record “The Original Soundtrack”. I liked the sound of that so dug through their collection. Three records stood out and “How Dare You!” was one of them.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three 10cc albums. “How Dare You!” comes in at #3 because someone has to be last.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

I’d be curious to know what the reaction would be of a modern Soulless Record Exec if 10cc were to walk into their office and say they’d like to record a mix seventies a.m. radio pop, prog and a few Broadway numbers. Something along the lines of “how dare you!” I expect.

Fortunately, the mid-seventies were a different time, when rock and roll was in full bloom and nothing was so far out there to not try at least once. It helped that by 1976, 10cc had three records under their belt already, many of which just as strange as “How Dare You!” It puts those Soulless Record Execs at ease if they think they can also earn a little money.

“How Dare You!” is a bit of a smoother, schmaltzier sound than their previous record, and not quite as radio friendly as the follow up, “Deceptive Bends”. It falls uncomfortably between the two styles – lacking the edge of the record that preceded it, but with less seductive groove of the one that followed.

It is the last record with all four original songwriters (Godley, Creme, Stewart and Gouldman) with Godley and Creme soon to head off on their own and I wonder if the creative differences leading to the breakup contributed to the record straddling two sounds.

Despite this disconnect, 10cc have four talented songwriters and this shines through on every track, even those that weren’t my cup of tea. They create a layer of sound, sound effects and post-production cleverness that is a feast for the ears. “Lazy Ways” is hippy dream pop, the perfect soundtrack for laying on a grassy hill and watching clouds float by. The beginning of “I’m Mandy Fly Me” has an organ and guitar dueling over what can sound more psychedelic. The song meanders a bit later on, but 10cc’s talent at writing compelling melodies is on full display throughout.

This is a common challenge on the record, that tends to set up amazing melodic structures and then bore of them too quickly and move on to something completely different.

Despite all the artistic envelope-pushing, the band doesn’t take themselves too seriously and the lyrics are often whimsical and light-hearted. The theatricality of the delivery is deliberately over the top and I picture the album being turned into a Broadway show full of dancers jitterbugging about in brightly coloured costumes. This isn’t a record for shoegazing and gravitas.

Overall, these songs were easy to listen to and inoffensive. I also admired the musicianship, but when I think about putting on 10cc I can’t honestly say I’d ever want to pick “How Dare You!” over the other two records in my collection. For this reason, I’m going to send this record off to a better home.

Best tracks: Lazy Ways, I Wanna Rule the World, Don’t Hang Up

CD Odyssey Disc 1267: Okkervil River

I’m off work this week doing my annual spiritual recharge. Today has been a good and restful one, starting with a whole bunch of French Open tennis, a nap with my cat and now a music review.

All of this is designed to try to keep my mind off not only work, but also the stress of the Stanley Cup finals. My beloved Bruins play the St. Louis Blues in Game 4 tonight.

Disc 1267 is… Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You See

Artist: Okkervil River

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? The world’s scariest one-man band. One-man band dudes are a bit weird to begin with, but I think Bird Skull here takes the title. I wonder what he keeps in that mini armoire? I’m going to go with squirrel bones.

How I Came to Know It: I’ve known Okkervil River for years, but I didn’t really know this album at all. Then I saw it for sale used at a local record shop and decided to give it a chance.

How It Stacks Up:  I have nine Okkervil River albums, which is all of their full-length efforts. Of those nine, I rank “Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You See” somewhere around #5 through #7. Since I’m not one to equivocate, I’ll go with…7.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Don’t Fall in Love With Everyone You See” is Okkervil River’s debut full length LP and it sounds like it: full of fresh promise and raw energy and the occasional roughness around the edges of a band still evolving. Okkervil River are still finding their path, but the overgrown trail is worth the walk.

Bands are always evolving, and this is more true of Okkervil River than most. In the past eight years or so they have adopted a much lusher and electronically friendly sound. I like their new sound, but like any hipster wannabee, I also hold their early sound close to my heart.

“Don’t Fall in Love…” is a more organic record than recent listeners will expect, with a lot of acoustic guitar strumming, but the harbingers of what they would become are already here. There is a bit of horn or cello here and there creating an orchestral feel throughout that tells you this is only ever going to be part folk music, and that’s just how the band likes it.

The one continuous element to the band is the singing and songwriting of Will Sheff, who at this early stage already demonstrates a knack for both melodic composition and some complicated arrangements that never trip over one another. That said there are moments (“Lady Liberty”) comes to mind where there is a bit too much banging and crashing going on. It works and doesn’t technically get in its own way, but it was still a bit frantic near the end for my tastes.

I also regret the decision to have guest singer Daniel Johnston sing part of “Happy Hearts.” Sheff’s vocals can tend toward a pitchy warble, but they are an acquired taste, that once acquired work perfectly with these oddball folk-pop ballads. Daniel Johnston sounds strained and scratchy. Knowing the rough-edged production on this one track is deliberate didn’t help any either. It frustrated me because this should have been one of the album’s better tracks, and I would love to hear it re-recorded in their modern polished style. Maybe at a live show…

When it all lands right, “Don’t Fall in Love…” has magical moments. The opening track “Red” is a gut-wrencher, opening with:

“Red is my favourite colour, red like your mother’s

Eyes after a while of crying about how you don’t love her.”

This song and “My Bad Days” both had an insistent emotional twist to their melodies that reminded me favourably of early seventies Leonard Cohen. It is high praise and while the lyrics aren’t at the same consistent level, the band lands the same torture and hurt in their delivery.

The record’s standout track is “Westfall” a troubling crime ballad tracing a psychopath’s journey from youth, through adolescence and murder. Like many great murder ballads, Sheff worms his way inside the psyche of the killer and forces you to see the world through his eyes. The song ends with the ominous line as the killer faces the cameras of the courtroom:

“They’re looking for evil, thinking they can trace it

But evil don’t look like anything.”

According to Wikipedia (which is never wrong) Sheff was inspired to write the song about a specific murder. I won’t mention which one, since the song was recorded in 2002 and the convictions have since been overturned. The crime is now an unsolved cold case. In any event, none of the names in the song match either killers or victims, which is just as well. In the end, the song is a fiction and a damned creepy one at that.

“Westfall” is the best effort on a record that takes you on an many explorations of the dark recesses of the human heart (albeit not all quite so deadly). The record will haunt you at times, but you’ll enjoy the journey.

Best tracks: Red, Westfall, Okkervil River