The Best Albums of 2020

 Welcome back! I’ve been on vacation and have had limited opportunities to fulfill music listening within the parameters of Rule #4 (n.b. – I usually do this on my way to and from the office, so with no commute, reviews tend to drop off).

Never fear, intrepid reader! I am here to provide a timely salve to the interweb’s insatiable need for content. Not just content, either, but the second most popular thing people do on the internet after cat videos – read lists!

I listened to all or part of over 150 albums released in 2020, and bought 70 of them. Of all of these albums, I narrowed the field to a top 20. Over the course of the last week or so, I’ve played each of these 20 albums one more time to get them back in my head. I did so with the participation and assistance of my lovely wife Sheila, who helped me with her opinion of each, and more generally called bullshit on my more offside choices - apparently I have a hidden weakness for very specific guitar strumming patterns…who knew?

Anyway, without further ado, here are my Top 10 albums and – because choices are hard – five more albums good enough to achieve an “honourable mention” that fell just short of the final list. Depending on your tastes, these could be interchangeable for you in your quest to hear something good.

10. Lucinda Williams – Good Souls, Better Angels

     - Lucinda is consistently good, but with Good Souls, Better Angels she delivers her finest work in over a decade.

9. Sarah Siskind – Modern Appalachia
     - Sweet and tasteful exploration of Appalachian music from every facet you can imagine.

8. Lydia Loveless – Daughter
     -  Loveless’ seventh record is her usual mix of regret and heartbreak wrapped within her best collection of songs yet.

7. HMLTD – West of Eden
     - A mix of psychobilly, post-punk and New Wave, this record is a ton of apocalyptic fun. Also the record that most impressed Sheila.

6. Phoebe Bridgers – Punisher
     - It was a hell of a thing to match the brilliance of 2017 “Stranger in the Alps”, but Bridgers manages it.

5. HAIM – Women in Music Pt. III
     - Twice before HAIM has almost snared me with their talent for writing top-tier folk-adjacent pop. On their third attempt I swallowed hook, line, and sinker alike, as the saying goes.

4. Jaime Wyatt – Neon Cross
     - Like Bridgers, Wyatt also ascends once more to the heights of a 2017 debut. This is country music with edge and honesty like you’ll rarely hear. Also the record that least impressed Sheila.

3. Run the Jewels – RTJ4
     - Is this Run the Jewels’ best record ever? It is good enough to beg the question.

2. Bonnie Light Horseman – Self-Titled (Reviewed at Disc 1351)
     - Sometimes music is so pure and perfect that everything else just melts away. This is one of the best folk records I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot of folk records.

1. Katie Pruitt – Expectations (Reviewed at Disc 1361)
     - One young woman’s courageous journey out of the shadows of self-doubt and small-town Georgia to find her place in the world. A fabulous collection of folk-rock gems that leaves me verklempt every time.

Honourable Mention: Taylor Swift – Folklore; Sarah Jarosz – World on the Ground; Clem Snide – Forever Just Beyond; THICK – 5 Years Behind; Dehd – Flower of Devotion

CD Odyssey Disc 1436: Kelly McFarling

I bought a car this week, and this will be my first review in years where under Rule #4 (see sidebar) I was driving, rather than walking while I listened.

Disc 1436 is…. Water Dog

Artist: Kelly McFarling

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover?  Kelly McFarling, obscured partly by shadows. If she were to stand there long enough, she might get a cool suntan effect. Kind of a “navy seal with camo paint” effect or maybe “Braveheart at the beach”.

How I Came To Know It: Kelly McFarling and Megan Keely (performing together under the name Sparkbox), were the opening act to a Frances Luke Accord show Sheila and I went to in San Francisco back in 2017. I liked what I heard and so bought a couple of McFarling’s solo albums (Keely’s as well) at the merch table. You can check out my review of Sparkbox as part of my Frances Luke Accord album review back at Disc 1051. 

Unless you already know you don’t like the opening act at a concert, you should show up on time and give them a listen. Frankly, even if you don’t like them, give them a second chance. It’ll get you a better seat, you might discover some fine music but above all, it is rude to arrive late to an event. Be an adult and come on time. That said, if you are going to talk through the opening act, please do not show up early. That’s even more rude. In fact, if you come to concerts just to talk through any portion of them, please don’t show up at all. The rest of us have come to listen to music.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Kelly McFarling albums. It is hard to choose between the two. Partly because they are so different, but for now I’ll rank “Water Dog” #1.

Ratings: 4 stars

Kelly McFarling is an example of how ephemeral fame can be, particularly on the indie folk scene. The difference between getting 400 Youtube hits and 50,000 is less a matter of talent and more a matter of luck and marketing. San Francisco singer-songwriter McFarling has the voice and writing talent to go far, and if she hasn’t become widely famous, she has still carved out a career of which she can be proud.

My earlier record of McFarling’s, “Ridgeline,” is a rustic exploration of contemporary folk. By contrast I found “Water Dog” possessed a fuller, more rounded sound. Her vocals, always edging a bit toward a whisper, whispers even more insistently here, leaving you with the impression that she’s got some secrets to impart. It feels like they are happy secrets; life hacks on how to live a more relaxed and self-examined life.

While I missed the sharp contrast of McFarling’s banjo playing on “Ridgeline” here she dissolves her considerable talents into the mix more completely. It creates a liquid effect that pairs well with the record’s title. “Country” is a strong example of this, with a relaxed guitar pick pattern that is slightly diffuse, chilling you out underscoring how finding your place in the country might be as easy as looking.

McFarling goes all in with the water theme on “Pacific”. If you’ve never waded out into the Pacific Ocean and been overcome by her beauty, I recommend you do so. If you happen to live in Nebraska and can’t do this, McFarling’s mood piece will give you an approximation of the experience.

I’m always a sucker for an album with strong bookends and “Water Dog” did not disappoint. The opening track “Both” has McFarling’s banjo at its easy and graceful best, and benefits from a catchy melody, inspired arrangement, and a whole lot of song dynamics that’ll have you doing hippy dance spins on a forest trail…or just imagining you did.

At the other end we have “The Storms Are Getting Stronger.” This time that fluid guitar takes centre stage, alongside McFarling’s sweet and airy vocals at their very best. It reminded me favourably of Alela Diane’s work with its pastoral whimsy.

This crazy pandemic can induce a lot of anxiety and uncertainty in life, but if you need a break from it all, and just want to lay back and relax into an easy state of grace for 45 minutes, “Water Dog” is an excellent place to find such solace.

Best tracks: Both, Spring Clean, Country, Pacific, Box, The Storms Are Getting Stronger

CD Odyssey Disc 1435: Pearl Jam

Greetings, gentle reader! I am officially on vacation. Like most people right now, my plans include doing nothing, going nowhere, and seeing no one. Good times.

Disc 1435 is…. Gigaton

Artist: Pearl Jam

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover?  A cliff face with water spilling off of it. Maybe a melting glacier? It is hard to tell with that reflective finish they’ve coated it with. There is also an EKG heartbeat line (ambitiously referred to in the liner notes as a “font”) across the top of the cover for no apparent reason. As covers go this one is a cover.

How I Came To Know It: I’m a longtime fan of Pearl Jam, so I was just trying out their new record and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have twelve Pearl Jam albums. Of the twelve, “Gigaton” comes in at #10. Scoring 10 is often a good thing, but not this time.

Ratings: 3 stars

When you’ve been successful for as long as Pearl Jam has, you start taking on the qualities of super groups like Them Crooked Vultures or Queens of the Stone Age. That usually means a bit more bombast and a whole lot of production (there being no need to pinch pennies or monitor studio time). Such is the case with Pearl Jam’s, “Gigaton” which shows both promise and excess in equal measure.

“Gigaton” is Pearl Jam’s first album in seven years (their last was 2013’s “Lightning Bolt”). “Lightning Bolt” had more range and held my interest a lot more strongly than “Gigaton,” which is solid but not innovative. Pearl Jam rocks out and plays tight and with great energy that belies their age, but at few points to do they paint outside the lines.

Vedder’s vocals have held up well over the years and his powerful back of the throat singing style continues to put pleasant vibrations in your backbone. Many have tried to emulate Vedder’s style over the years, often with disastrous results (I’m looking at you Scott Stapp) but there’s only one Eddie Vedder. “Gigaton” doesn’t give Vedder any legendary moments, but even a regular Vedder performance is worth the price of admission.

The coolest tune on the record is easily “Dance of the Clairvoyants.” It features a very interesting shift between an almost techno bass lick and a more traditional rock croon B section. Also, how could any song called “Dance of the Clairvoyants” not be good? That’s a dance I want to attend – so long as everyone promises not to tell me my future. Then again, if they said nothing but just regarded me sadly, would that be worse? I dunno. I only came to this clairvoyant convention for the dancing. But I digress…

Lyrically, I had a hard time getting into this record. Part of that were all the layers of production. The band is good enough to make it all work, but the record felt more about the groove than the stories. “Superblood Wolfmoon” has lyrics that are every bit as ridiculous as the song’s title would imply, and not in a good way. Pearl Jam has also continued in their long tradition of printing the lyrics in the most indecipherable font possible, providing further disincentive to learn more.

The one notable standout lyrically was “Seven O’clock” which is a beautiful and sparse tune that showcases Vedder at his mournful best. There are some meandering guitar bits in the background from Mike McCready and/or Stone Gossard (I’m never sure) but they suit the song well and give it a bit of that deep ocean feel that is a signature quality of many good Pearl Jam songs.

It is followed up by “Never Destination” which has the band returning to its frantic, “wouldn’t you rather be driving to this?” sound. Yes I would, but if I’m being honest, there are other songs I’d rather be driving to.

The album’s final third gets a bit quieter, and I enjoyed the slow soak it provided my ears. “Retrograde” is the standout here, but the sleepy and saccharine lullaby “Buckle Up” is to be avoided. I get that they are trying to juxtapose a tragic story with a gentle tune, but it failed to draw me in sufficiently to learn more.

If you already love Pearl Jam (and by love I mean you didn’t stop listening to them in 1994) then you should check “Gigaton” out. I think you’ll like it. If you don’t already love them, start with a classic like “Yield” or “Ten” and work your way in.

Best tracks: Dance of the Clairvoyants, Seven O’clock, Retrograde

CD Odyssey Disc 1434: John Prine

This is my third consecutive review of an album released in seventies. I like the seventies plenty, but this does represent a statistical anomaly.

Disc 1434 is…. Diamonds in the Rough

Artist: John Prine

Year of Release: 1972

What’s up with the Cover?  No matter how red the light, nothing can hide the hideous contours of a bad haircut in the age before product.

How I Came To Know It: Four or five years ago I went through a John Prine phase. I listened to all his albums, and bought a bunch of them, including this one.

How It Stacks Up: I have six John Prine albums, having recently acquired the long-coveted “Bruised Orange”. “Diamonds in the Rough” is not nearly as coveted. I put it in fifth place, beating out only the lowly “The Missing Years” which I have since parted with, and bumping “Lost Dogs & Mixed Blessings” down a peg as well.

Ratings: 3 stars

Two of John Prine’s first three albums are folk classics. “Diamonds in the Rough” is the other album. It’s still good, but I’m going to keep it real.

First the good stuff. John Prine is a natural storyteller; one of the greatest American storytelling songwriters ever. When Margo Price and Jason Isbell called out the Country Music Awards for not honouring his death, they were 100% right. John Prine was a folk music treasure, and the world is a sadder place without him in it.

“Diamonds in the Rough” shows some of that early John Prine magic. The album’s opening song, “Everybody” has Prine running into Jesus to whom he exclaims “Jesus you look tired” to which Jesus replies, “Jesus, so do you.” Comedy gold. The song has a bit too much country fair singsong to it, but that’s kind of the point. To love Prine is to love the schmaltz he will indulge in, and I welcome it here.

“Souvenirs” is a more touching ditty; a regretful look back on lost souvenirs and the deeper loss they represent. It’s a sad song that where passing references to graveyards, pawn shops and – ultimately – love letters pass through the song quickly but cast long shadows in your mind.

“Take the Star Out of the Window” is a song about the Vietnam War and the effects it had on veterans who experienced its horrors. It isn’t at the same level as his classics on the same subject (“Sam Stone” and “Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore”) but it is a solid junior cousin to them.

My favourite song on the record is “The Great Compromise” which features a bit of Prine’s self-deprecating humour as well as some genuine heartache, as his character takes a woman to the drive-in only to see her run off with someone with a nicer car. He takes the loss with a shrug, but you can tell it’s a sad shrug.

The album also features that timeless John Prince voice, but when I say timeless don’t mistake that for “good”. It is instantly recognizable in the same way the Bob Dylan’s voice is. It is equally scratchy and nasally as well but with less range than Dylan. Prine is good at writing songs that don’t push his own limitations far, and the lyrics and melodies are so good you forgive a lot, but it isn’t always easy.

Overall, however, “Diamonds in the Rough” needed a few more diamonds to hold my attention. The songs are passable, and the ones I’ve mentioned damned good, but the album feels overly rustic and unpolished, even by Prine’s standards. It also didn’t hold me with an emotional core like some of his other records do.

Yesterday when I was walking home the album played through to the end, and the next album on my MP3 player came on. It was the Bangles singing “Manic Monday.” At these times, the Odyssey compels me to turn it off and go back to the beginning of the album I’m reviewing for another listen.

But I didn’t do that. I listened to “Manic Monday” in its entirety, and only then did I go back for round two of “Diamonds in the Rough”. You could forgive me this indiscretion for symbolic reasons, happening as it did at the end of a long Monday. But then the same thing happened today…on a Tuesday. Much as I enjoy the Bangles, that would not have happened if I’d been reviewing “Sweet Revenge” or “Bruised Orange”. And so…three stars. Respectable, but not enough to drive me manic on its own.

Best tracks: Everybody, Souvenirs, Take the Star out of the Window, The Great Compromise

CD Odyssey Disc 1433: Van Halen

I’m jut back from finishing my Christmas shopping. It was a little bit like Soviet Russia out there, with all the lineups necessitated by the pandemic. However, the crowds were well behaved, and I had music to accompany me while I waited.

Disc 1433 is…. Self-Titled

Artist: Van Halen

Year of Release: 1978

What’s up with the Cover?  Select “action” shots of our heroes. Alex Van Halen appears to be playing his gig in the fiery pit of hell. I suppose he’s…drummin’ with the devil…?

In the centre of it all the band’s logo, which appeared on many a jean jacket back-patch in my teenage years.

How I Came To Know It: I knew this album growing up. I didn’t own it, but it was popular at parties and blaring out of Camaros going up and down the main drag.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Van Halen album. I may one day get one or two more, but for now there is no stacking to be had.

Ratings: 3 stars

Full disclosure: I did not like Van Halen growing up. I actively disliked them, in fact. As a metalhead, I referred to them as “tinsel” (and not in a warm tingly holiday-spirit kind of way). I thought David Lee Roth was a pompous ass, and Eddie Van Halen played fast, but not good. Sure I enjoyed watching the “Hot for Teacher” video as much as the next hormone-ridden teenager, but give the music a chance? Never.

In the end, my hatred for Van Halen blinded me, as hatred usually does and the only joy I was denying was my own. Fortunately, there is always time to reject musical snobbery. All you have to do is open your ears, and let the music in. With the help of friends, I’ve had a lot more recent exposure to early Van Halen of late, and it has made me appreciate these guys for the first time.

Enter Van Halen’s eponymous debut. This record is a solid hard rock record, expertly delivering seventies flavour, with just a hint of the excess and bombast that lay just around the corner in the next decade. It is not heavy metal, but since I’m not fifteen anymore, I know that everything doesn’t have to be metal to be worth listening to (see blog sidebar for further evidence of this).

It all starts with the brilliant and timeless “Runnin’ With the Devil.” When David Lee Roth belts out “I live my life like there’s no tomorrow” he sings it with such conviction you believe every word. All that bombast that used to bug me in my youth, now draws me in and makes me revel in the glory of a natural frontman doing his thing. As for Eddie Van Halen, his guitar work on this song is perfect. Sitting that groove down in the pocket and adding just the right amount of flourish to give the song a little spice.

The album also features a cover of the Kinks’ “You Really Got Me.” I used to dismiss this song in my youth as “just another cover” but the truth is Van Halen has nailed this song. Dare I say, I like it even more than the original, which is saying something.

That said, there are still elements of this record that remind me of legitimate reasons the band used to irk me in my youth. “Eruption” is a renowned and celebrated instrumental, but for me it exemplifies the aspect of Eddie Van Halen’s playing that I don’t like. Does he demonstrate his virtuosity on this song? Absolutely, but just making the guitar create interesting sounds and playing super fast does not a great song make. I found the tune lacked emotion and intent, which are two things he demonstrates beautifully on other parts of the album where he bows to the needs of the song’s melody.

And “Atomic Punk” is David Lee Roth at his most excessive. The song is supposed to be hard hitting and frenetic, but it just feels vaguely ridiculous. Roth strays from his comfort zone of “party guy at a kegger” at his own peril, and the post-apocalyptic feel the band is trying to convey never quite lands.

I’ll probably never love Van Halen, but this record taught me that I was wrong to dismiss them. They are a solid band who play an important and undeniable part in the history of rock and roll. It is a reminder that you should never harbour a permanent dislike of a band just because you didn’t like them in your youth. Except for Duran Duran. Seriously, fuck them.

Best tracks: Runnin’ With the Devil, You Really Got Me, Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love, Jamie’s Cryin’

CD Odyssey Disc 1432: The Spinners

I just spent an afternoon chilling to this album a couple weekends ago. The CD Odyssey dice gods must have noticed because they rolled it up for me. Or it could be, you know, random.

Disc 1432 is…. Mighty Love

Artist: The Spinners

Year of Release: 1974

What’s up with the Cover?  All kinds of awesome. We’ve got the Spinners arrayed around the top of a circle like some kind of RnB Mount Rushmore. Below that we’ve got a bunch of astrological signs, each more awesome than the last. What sign are each of these guys? Funky…

How I Came To Know It: I knew the song “Mighty Love” from the Crooklyn Soundtrack (reviewed way back at Disc75). Great soundtrack, lousy movie. Anyway, I decided to check out the Spinners recently for reasons that escape me. Of their catalogue, this was the album that stuck well enough for me to pick it up. Maybe because of the presence of “Mighty Love” but I also like to think because it’s their best.

How It Stacks Up: I like to think its their best, but it is the only one I have, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars

Over the last two days, when I wasn’t listening to the Spinners’ “Mighty Love” I found myself gravitating to early Ice Cube. I think I just needed a bit more grit in my diet.

There’s nothing wrong with “Mighty Love.” On the contrary, I enjoyed experiencing these five fine voices (tenors Billy Henderson, Bobbie Smith and Phillippe Soul Wynne, baritone Henry Fambrough and bass Pervis Jackson). They know their craft and are unselfish in the way they divide up the time to serve the song. There is plenty of call-and-answer, as well as harmony when the situation calls for it.

Standouts include the schmaltzy grooves of “Ain’t No Price On Happiness” and the celebratory horn-strewn “I’m Coming Home”. The former is built for wistful summer strolls in the park, the latter for impromptu handclapping and hip-swaying on the street corner.

Nothing beats that title track that first drew me in, though. “Mighty Love” is a song that manages to be both tender and powerful. Lyrically, it is the strongest on the record, starting with the worldly wise:

“Once…there was a boy and girl

Boy said, ‘I love you so’
Girl said ‘I’ll never leave you’
They grew older and left each other
Because that’s the way love goes.” 

It sounds sad, but it really isn’t. It’s a reminder that if you live any time at all you’re going to have more than a few loves. Also, it sets you up for that triumphant chorus of “you need a mighty love.” You’ll love a few people, but you’ll only have one or two loves that are mighty. Good down-to-earth relationship advice was never so romantic.

However, for all the joy this record gave me (and it gave me a lot) there were also times when it felt emotionally detached. A lot of the tracks aren’t so much for sinking into, as for absent-mindedly playing along in the background. Like something you’d hear in a movie coming from an open car window that fades in, briefly lingers, and fades away again. I wanted every song to hit me between the eyes the way the title track always does.

There’s a “hey, we’re entertaining you!” vibe going on every now and then as well that felt a bit rehearsed. I know you need to rehearse to pull these kinds of vocal athletics off, but I still found myself wishing for the urgency and grit of James Brown or…dare I say it…Ice Cube?

My copy of the album (on CD – a format that does no favours to the warm mid-range heavy seventies production) comes with four bonus tracks. This can sometimes bug me, but the tracks they’ve chosen are every bit as good as the original record. I got a particular kick out of “You Sure Are Nasty” which, as you can surmise from the title, is not a mighty love. More like one of those “they grew older and left each other” moments, but with a lot more smack talk and maybe a lawsuit or two thereafter.

Overall, this record was a lot of fun, even if it didn’t quite achieve my expectations of “timeless classic.”

Best tracks: Ain’t No Price on Happiness, I’m Coming Home, Mighty Love, and also from the bonus material: You Sure Are Nasty

CD Odyssey Disc 1431: Hilary Grist

Welcome back - let's get at this.

Disc 1431 is…. Come & Go

Artist: Hilary Grist

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover?  Hilary sits resplendent in perfect light. I assume the light is perfect because this is essentially a studio shot, giving it a bit of a high school yearbook feel.

How I Came To Know It: I think I read about this album back in 2014 in a folk magazine - maybe Penguin Egg? Anyway, finding it in the local record store was damned tricky. As it turns out, impossible. Grist’s Christmas album is always kicking around but of “Come & Go” I saw nary a copy.

Then I was digging through Bandcamp and found her account where…once again…I didn’t see the CD for sale. However I kept checking in and eventually, there it was. I snapped it up. That was just a few short months ago, meaning I looked high and low for this album for a good six years. I’m dogged like that.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Hilary Grist record, so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars

After the experimental craziness of the Fiery Furnaces on my last review, Hilary Grist’s mainstream indie pop stylings were quite a culture shock. Fortunately, I had multiple listens to acclimate before sitting down to write this review.

There is precious little weirdness on “Come & Go” and that’s OK. Grist may be a very straightforward songwriter, but she’s talented at what she does. Many of these songs may sound like you’ve heard them before, but that’s just because Grist has a natural knack for a melody.

Grist had me thinking of a number of artists as I listened, particularly Taylor Swift, which they stylistically resemble in many ways (particularly the folksier Taylor Swift of 2020’s “Folklore”). “Come & Go” is not the masterpiece that “Folklore” is by any stretch, but I make the comparison as a compliment. Grist’s songs don’t have the natural storytelling of Swift’s, but they hold up well on their own, more as emotional explorations than as a narrative.

Grist’s vocals are bright and pure, with a rich comforting tone like a cup of warm tea on a winter afternoon. I wasn’t overwhelmed by the lyrics themselves, but Grist has a great delivery that draws you in regardless. Her head and chest voice are equally strong, with the former airy and sweet, and the latter filled with easy power.

The production is very much down the center, without a lot of surprises either in the mix or the arrangements. I expect this could bug a snobbier music critic, but I just like good songs played well, so it suited me well. I suppose I would have preferred a little more guitar and a little less piano, but that’s just me. I like my indie on the folksier side, and “Come & Go” lands time and again on the pop side of the ledger.

Grist also reminded me of fellow Canadian chanteuse Melissa McClelland, and like McClelland’s earlier stuff tends to throw in different musical influences here and there as though she’s trying on clothes. The Queen-like guitar solo on “Waltzing Matilda” and the whimsical stage-show piano riff on “Chemical Reaction” come to mind here. I liked both well enough, but they didn’t dig in like they could have, feeling more like secondary flourishes.

On “Fall to Pieces” Grist gets her somber on, but even then, it feels like a positive moment (the song’s refrain is “I won’t fall to pieces”). Like most of the album it is more uplifting than edgy. If you want feel all sad and morose, go grab some John Moreland; you won’t find it here.

My favourite track on the record is the lighthearted love song, “With You”. It is more than a bit sugary, but so sweet you can’t help but enjoy yourself. When Grist hits the high falsetto in the chorus you feel 17 and giddy with joy all over again. I should probably be embarrassed that I like this song but damn it, there’s a pandemic on and we could all use an upbeat, no-frills love song.

With its dreamscape piano and lilting elfin vocals, the final track on the album, “In Dreams” reminded me of Enya, minus all the overdubbing. It is also a final reminder that while the album stays solidly in the mainstream, it dabbles with a lot of different sounds. I liked it overall, although at times it left me longing for a deeper dive into styles Grist only dips a toe in.

Best tracks: Come & Go, Damned, Fall to Pieces, With You, Goodbye Ghost

CD Odyssey Disc 1430: The Fiery Furnaces

It’s Saturday and a beautiful sunny day in the city I love. I’m going to go for lunch and then have a walk around town.

Disc 1430 is…. Widow City

Artist: The Fiery Furnaces

Year of Release: 2007

What’s up with the Cover?  Lead singer Eleanor Friedberger eyes us warily as she fondles her necklace. This cover and the Florence Welch shot from Disc1428 could go in some themed gallery show called “Long of Hair and Looking Right at You.”

I wonder what it is about Eleanor’s necklace that has her so concerned? The back of the album features brother and fellow Furnacer Matthew Friedberger clutching a portable radio. Maybe he’s heard a report coming over the line that police are closing in on the thieves that knocked over the jewelry store on 48^th last night and Eleanor’s thinking “maybe we should have pawned all the evidence.”

In her defence, the necklace is a really nice one.

How I Came To Know It: I was keen on Eleanor Friedberger’s solo work and found out she’d previously been in a band. The local record store had a bunch of albums and I had no clue which one to get, so I bought this one based on the cover and vague whim.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Fiery Furnaces albums, but “Widow City” is my favourite.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Widow City” is an album designed to appeal to music nerds. I usually hate albums designed to music nerds (just play some song and don’t get fancy!). I wanted to hate this album for all the usual reasons (pretentious, unfocused, full of weird sounds, elements of jazz) but I couldn’t do it. It is just too damned good. This record forced me to reconcile with my own inner music nerd.

The album begins with “The Philadelphia Grand Jury” a seven-plus minute song that sprawls all over the place. It contains a whole series of different disjointed movements, jumping from one melody to another like a drunk on stilts. It is so complicated it comes with an overture, like a mini-musical on Broadway. And yet...it somehow manages to be an enjoyable listen.

It also sets the scene for what you can expect out of the record. The Fiery Furnaces are going to spend the next 60 minutes (yes, 60) of your time, doing whatever the hell occurs to them. And they are going to make you like it.

The next tune “Duplexes of the Dead” is a more straightforward tune, at a restrained 2:39. It even has appealing guitar licks and pop hooks, but it still manages to find time for a weird Mellotron section in the middle of the song. Yes, this works as well.

The band knows how to rock out when they want to. The crunchy guitar at the beginning of “Navy Nurse” is as gritty and groovy as anything you’ll hear on a White Stripes record. But the Fiery Furnaces aren’t content with such displays of brilliance. They bounce the song into a bunch of different movements. At one point Friedberger repeats the phrase “If there’s anything I’ve had enough of, it’s today” as though to underscore the song’s complete unwillingness to settle on one thing. I think there are at least four different movements in “Navy Nurse” each of which could be a cool and innovative song on its own. Instead, it is a blended – but never bloated – six and half minute masterpiece.

Eleanor Friedberger has a natural charisma, drawing you in with perfect phrasing and timing. Half the time she’s delivering lyrics in a spoken word style, and the other half she’s demonstrating her beautiful singing voice. On “My Egyptian Grammar” you can hear the seeds of her later solo career, with a high and ebullient head voice that fills your heart with a restful joy.

This is the point where I’d usually say I longed to have this more straightforward approach across the whole record, but I didn’t. I fell for “Widow City” in all its weirdness. I loved having a couple of more straightforward tunes, but I also loved the crazy, wacky experimentation that the Fiery Furnaces load throughout.

Because for all that nutty stuff that goes on, the album has great poetry, and compelling music with brilliant melodies (often several competing melodies). It wakes your mind up like a good jazz song, but unlike jazz doesn’t go on to waste your time with a bunch of math. Or maybe it does. I was having such a good time I didn’t notice.

If you read my reviews to look for more folk tunes telling straightforward tales of love and loss and delivered lovingly in 4/4 time, this album is not for you. If you instead are looking for something new and different, then here is your reward. Go get this weird and wonderful record.

Best tracks: Duplexes of the Dead, Clear Signal from Cairo, My Egyptian Grammar, The Old Hag is Sleeping, Navy Nurse, Restorative Beer, Cabaret of the Seven Devils

CD Odyssey Disc 1429: Emily Barker

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey, where we are getting our second female English singer in a row (although this next one was technically born in Australia).

Disc 1429 is…. A Dark Murmuration of Words

Artist: Emily Barker

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover?  A painting of a lakeshore, with just a hint of a kelpie forming a whirlpool to draw an unsuspecting person to the watery depths.

How I Came To Know It: When you buy albums from Bandcamp, Bandcamp remembers [cue ominous music]. The benefit of this is you get notified when the band you like releases a new record. The detriment is that Bandcamp also notifies you of every other little thing the band might do, like release a single, or a new collectible tea cozy. I have yet to find the setting for “full albums only”.

Anyway, I’ve ordered a lot of Emily Barker through Bandcamp, so when the website told me she had a new album I was pretty excited. I listened to it, liked it, and ordered it. I even bought the deluxe “booklet” version, which comes with all the lyrics as well as an autographed photo of Ms. Barker as a bonus.

How It Stacks Up: I now have six Emily Barker albums. I’ll put “A Dark Murmuration of Words” in at a respectable #3, bumping “Despite the Snow” by the narrowest of margins in the process.

Ratings: 3 stars

Fortunately for the listener, “A Dark Murmuration of Words” is a reference to a lyric in one of the album’s songs and not how Emily Barker sings. Instead, we are treated to a birdsong of words, as Barker delivers another solid contemporary folk record full of mystery and romance.

Barker’s vocals are a treat for the ear, and she knows how to write lilting, captivating melodies that take advantage of her voice’s best features. The tone is sweet and high, but with a hint of darkness around the edges.

She is also a gifted guitar player, with an easy and complementary style. It is exemplified best on “Geography” where she plays a simple pick pattern to start and then adds just a few additional notes to add a splash of colour as the rest of the band picks up the song. It is one of the better produced songs on the record.

Barker maintains plenty of her mystery on the record as well. “Sonogram” features an anthemic build, and slow but majestic piano. Combined with her ethereal but powerful vocals, they had me comparing her favourably with Enya. Yes, that’s a good thing.

Unfortunately, I can’t say that for all the songs. “Where Have the Sparrows Gone?” is a thoughtful song that artfully mixes pastoral imagery with the grim threat of genocide. However, I had a hard time getting past the drum machine and drone of organ. Their use blanches some of the power of the song away into a smooth but bland jazz back-eddy.

My more general complaint with “A Dark Murmuration…” is the focus on bass and high treble in the mix, at the expense of the mid-range. The plan is to let Barker’s voice float high above the tune, twisting and diving through those thoughtful melodies. That plan works, and I have no complaints as she delivers some nuanced and emotional vocal performances. However, I would have liked a bit more mid-range, if for no other reason than to let her gifted guitar playing get a bit more stage time.

“Strange Weather” is an example of better decision making, with a couple of guitars trilling along to Barker’s voice. The song is about welcoming a child into the world. It’s not exactly the kind of thing I’m usually drawn to, but there’s no denying the simple beauty of the tune. The song is a call for calm, and the importance of family, delivering a welcome and reassuring message during a pandemic.

Overall, the album features just too much talent and quality music to let a few bits of pseudo-electronica get in the way of my overall enjoyment, and I’m glad it has joined my Emily Barker collection.

Best tracks: Return Me, Geography, Strange Weather, Any More Goodbyes

CD Odyssey Disc 1428: Florence and the Machine

After a lovely bit of heavy metal, I like to enjoy a little alternative pop. Actually, I just listen to whatever the CD Odyssey offers up next. That’s how random works.

Disc 1428 is…. High as Hope

Artist: Florence and the Machine

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? With the unfinished wall and that guarded but vulnerable expression, I can’t tell if Florence is going to beg for some change or demand an explanation as to why the renovations still aren’t done in the east wing.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan of Florence and the Machine dating back to 2010’s “Between Two Lungs.” Sheila bought that album, but by the time “High as Hope” came out her interest in buying music had waned, so this one was all me.

I know, dear readers. I am also troubled that someone’s interest in buying music could wane. What would that feel like? But I digress…

How It Stacks Up: I have three Florence and the Machine albums. Of those three, I put “High as Hope” in at #2, or…the middle.

Ratings: 3 stars

If you’ve ever asked yourself, “can the travails of a successful socialite be emotionally engaging?” Florence and the Machine’s “High as Hope” will answer you with a surprising ‘yes’. It shouldn’t really be that surprising, though – art is art, and people are people. Florence Welch is an artist, and both able and willing to wear her heart on her sleeve. “High as Hope” is an unabashed look at her life, loves, fears and flaws.

Nothing exemplifies Welch’s willingness to bare her soul as “Hunger” which digs into unhealthy relationships with both food and drugs. It is also the album’s standout tune, capturing what Florence and the Machine do best, which is to pair an evocative turn of phrase (in this case, “we all have a hunger”) with a powerful pop hook that makes you want to spin around in a field while looking skyward. Yes, it is a bit overwrought, but overwrought works for her. She’s kind of the English pop singer version of Ronnie James Dio; everything she says seems important.

Like Dio, a key reason for this is Welch’s vocals. Her theatrical trill and natural room-filling power and range capture and hold your attention from the first notes. She’s wise enough to not just blast out big notes as well, constructing songs that have a natural swell which makes you anticipate and appreciate the well-placed crescendo when it finally lands.

So even when she’s just recollecting carefree nights on the town, as she does on “South London Forever” it still seems somehow important, even though all that ‘s happening is drinking, dropping ecstasy and meeting boys.

To be fair, it doesn’t always work, and there are times when the effort to be profound slogs a bit with an affected profundity that doesn’t objectively measure up to the topic at hand. On “Grace” lines like:

“I'm sorry I ruined your birthday
I guess I could go back to University
Try and make my mother proud
Stop this phase I'm in”

Feel a bit trite against the swelling import of the song and Welch’s vocals. That said, by the end she’s done such a solid version of recounting a trip on psychedelics which featured some regret and bad behaviour that ‘ere the end you forgive it all.

I very much enjoyed the production of the record, which had that big empty sound similar to a Laura Marling record, and gives “High as Hope” a similar folksy undercurrent. Pitchfork gave the album a 5.7/10 mostly complaining about the production, but they’re wrong; the production is part of the reason the album works. The lyrical poetry of “Sky Full of Song” just wouldn’t work with a bunch of bother gussying it up. I’m glad that Welch (and producer Emily Haynie) opt instead to just let the song stand strong on its own, making it feel like Welch is singing un-mic’d in front of some 18^th century Scottish fireplace.

It would be easy to dismiss “High as Hope” claiming that Welch’s stories aren’t worth your time. But any tale is worth the telling, if told well. I didn’t gain any deep insights into the human condition writ large, but what is there is evocative and sung with honesty and talent. “High as Hope” is a good record and a worthy entry in Welch’s strong and well-deserved career.

Best tracks: Hunger, South London Forever, Sky Full of Song, Grace, the End of Love

CD Odyssey Disc 1427: Pantera

Hello and welcome! I am currently on a mini-vacation; part of my annual tradition of taking US Thanksgiving off to enjoy my favourite sport – football!

Disc 1427 is…. The Great Southern Trendkill

Artist: Pantera

Year of Release: 1996

What’s up with the Cover? A dangerous looking rattlesnake, bro! He’s sticking out his tongue, and based on that advisory notification, it is a very foul tongue indeed!

What’s that – you aren’t intimidated by a rattlesnake! You assert they are mostly harmless unless disturbed or provoked? Also, less than one in 1,000 of those bitten end up dying?  Well, look at you, smarty-pants, wrecking this cover with your science. But let me ask you this – how do you know this isn’t a giant rattlesnake? You don’t. So unless you’re Conan the Barbarian, I suggest you give this bad boy a wide berth.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve known Pantera since my old roommate Greg introduced me to them in 1992. “The Great Southern Trendkill” comes to me from my friend Chris, who recently divested a whole bunch of his CDs. Other albums from Chris I’ve recently reviewed include a George Thorogood anthology (Disc 1409) and the Tragically Hip’s, “Day for Night” (Disc 1415).

How It Stacks Up: I now have three Pantera albums They are all good, but I must put “The Great Southern Trendkill” in the ‘bronze’ position, aka last. Here’s the full list:

1. Cowboys From Hell: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 821)
2. Vulgar Display of Power: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 727)
3. The Great Southern Trendkill: 3 stars (reviewed right here)

 Ratings: 3 stars

If you ever need to process some anger, Pantera is your band. On “The Great Southern Trendkill” Pantera gets their angry on early, turns it up to 10, and breaks off the knob.

Fortunately, Pantera is very gifted at being angry, and they blend Phil Anselmo’s vitriolic with exceptional musicianship. People who aren’t metal fans may complain that this is a lot of noise, but those people would be dead wrong. It is damned hard to play this fast and furious, and still be so tight.

The result is classic Pantera, with Dimebag Darrell’s crunchy guitar riffs giving the songs a melodic groove, and drummer Vinnie Paul pounding out furious beats. Sometimes Paul is rapid-firing away with blinding speed, and other times he is just dropping the sticks hard with a purposeful thump. Both experiences are great.

On “The Great Southern Trendkill” the band once again display their innate talent for finding the middle point between groove and rage that is just the right amount of incoherent. You can fight through the wall of sound to get to the message, or you can just let it wash over you. For the most enjoyable listen, I encourage a bit of both.

So just what are the boys so angry about this time? Well, it varies, but a lot of it relates to artificiality. The metal community prides itself on forthrightness and is very much against people following a trend for trend’s-sake. The opening and title track digs into the issue, tackling all manner of herd behaviour, from what people think they should listen to, to what they think they should wear.

“Buy it at a store, from MTV to on the floor
You look just like a star, it's proof you don't know who you are
It's bullshit time again, you'll save the world within your trend”

It’s comforting to know Disney hasn’t cornered the market on the “be yourself” message. On “War Nerve” they explore the same issue from the reverse angle, taking on anyone who thinks they know what Pantera is all about based on a single lyric (hopefully I didn’t do that above – perils of being a music critic). Because the band has such aggressive imagery they have often been misunderstood. On “War Nerve” their reply is clear and unmistakable – fuck you all.

Mid-way through the record, your ears are given a brief respite, with a power ballad that is reminiscent of grunge. This being Pantera, the respite is both short lived and as the song title suggests – “Suicide Note Pt. I” – more than a bit grim. Lest you think they’re going soft, “Suicide Note Pt. II” immediately follows. Same topic, but with the most hard-core tune on the album. Tipper Gore would be mortified. Don’t worry, Tipper, the album comes with a warning label.

Musically, I don’t love it when the band slows down and Anselmo does the Cornell-throat singing thing (this also happens on “Floods”) but it didn’t wreck my enjoyment of the record overall. It gives you just enough respite for your ears recover before you leap back into the mosh pit.

Every Pantera album has at least one song with a groove built for the pit. “The Great Southern Trendkill” offers up “Drag the Waters.” The song is a disturbing exploration of a rich entitled serial killer, and the way Anselmo sings the chorus of “drag the waters some more” fills you with a heavy dread of just what they might find.

With all the murder, suicide and violent imagery, this record is not for the faint of heart. However, if you can handle the topics and the salty language, you’ll also get some powerful advice on being yourself, and telling people who’d rather you be someone else just where they can stick such notions. Also, some killer tunes.

Best tracks: The Great Southern Trendkill, War Nerve, Drag the Waters, Suicide Note Part II

CD Odyssey Disc 1426: Uncle Tupelo

I woke up this morning feeling a bit sore, despite a weekend of doing very little. Such is middle age and the entropy of COVID.

Disc 1426 is…. Still Feel Gone

Artist: Uncle Tupelo

Year of Release: 1991

What’s up with the Cover? A thin strip of a picture depicting the band playing, artfully overexposed until you can’t really tell what’s going on. All this on a background of either woodgrain or a wall that needs a second coat of paint – like with the picture, it was hard to tell..

How I Came To Know It: For the band, through my friend Brennan. As for the specific album? That is lost to the mists of time and too many bands in between then and now. There is a price to be paid for constantly exploring new bands, and that price is an overburdened memory.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Uncle Tupelo albums, which is their whole studio collection. Of the four, “Still Feel Gone” is the weakest, coming in at #4. I realize this may be an unpopular position among Uncle Tupelo fans but I gotta be true to me.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

When college rock gets too angsty it runs the risk of losing the plot in an excess of plaintive pining. “Still Feel Gone” has some solid songwriting, but it crosses this line a few too many times.

The album came out in 1991, and I don’t know how it didn’t fill my impressionable mind when I was hanging around the Student Union Building back in the day. It is replete with songs that speak directly to young adulthood, when life is full of uncertainty, and the enormity of the future weighing heavily on young minds. I can only assume it was playing in the background at the university pub on more than one occasion and I was absorbing it by osmosis.

The record has some powerful moments, primarily when the band explores the darkest inner workings of the human soul. “Still Be Around” is a stark portrait of binge drinking and self-loathing:

When the bible is a bottle
And the hardwood floor is home
When morning comes twice a day or not at all
If I break in two will you put me back together”

This is a record for a good wallow and a few too many pints downed well after midnight. What’s more these songs are strong enough that they don’t feel dated. After all, the enormity of the future is capable of weighing on us at any age, although hopefully along the way we get the good sense to not get up close and personal with the floor or sleeping away the morning.

That said there is a lot of self-destructive behavior and bemoaning of harsh fortune here. If the record had taken its foot off the gas even just a little bit, all those darker moments would have hit much harder.

Also, while I fell hard for the folksy feel of the guitar strums, when the band rocks out (which is about half the time) they lost me a little. There is a lot of visceral energy in those moments, but the songs that tend to use this approach either feel like they aren’t as strong melodically in the first place, or – more often – that the melodies are getting drowned without a purpose. Even some of the more powerful songs, like “Fall Down Easy” have the band descending into banging away with cacophonous glee by the end. I suppose it is intended to evoke frustration, and a hint of impotent rage and on those fronts, it does well enough.

There is a cowpoke-punk quality to the record that is likely a source of their appeal, and I could see where they were going with it. It feels like a countrified R.E.M. in places, but instead of a lot of introspective Michael Stipe sadness, Uncle Tupelo explode outward in bootless cries to heaven and a whole lot of alcohol consumption. That said, what they do, they do very well, and there is no denying the pathos in the delivery.

The production and approach feel raw and basic, and that’s definitely both deliberate and well crafted. Also, it is worth noting that what Uncle Tupelo was doing back in 1991 was relatively new. Their percussive-heavy approach to mixing country and rock became a blueprint for many an indie band to emulate for many decades after. For this alone, they deserve credit.

Best tracks: Looking For A Way Out, Fall Down Easy, Still Be Around, Watch Me Fall

CD Odyssey Disc 1425: Lucinda Williams

Did I hear someone say “weekend”? Well, here we are. A less pleasant weekend, given the whole partial pandemic lockdown thing, but a weekend none the less.

Disc 1425 is…. Good Souls Better Angels

Artist: Lucinda Williams

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover? Lucinda striking her best “alas, my life is full of woe” pose. Does anyone ever actually put their hand to their head like this when thinking sad and overwhelming thoughts?

How I Came To Know It: I have loved Lucinda Williams for years, so this was just me buying her latest release and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have 13 Lucinda Williams albums. “Good Souls Better Angels” is a worthy entry into her impressive catalogue. I put it at #7.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Good Souls Better Angels” is pure grit, and the hardest hitting Lucinda Williams album in years.

Williams has always embraced the blues, but on her latest release she delves deep into those structures, adding in a whole lot of reverb and rock snarl. Think late Tom Waits crossed with early ZZ Top, and a bunch of Muddy Waters besides.

There are still some examples of that old folk-rock sound Williams is so good at. “Shadows & Doubts” is a strong example of this, and “When the Way Gets Dark” is another solid folksy track. Fans who come looking for this, won’t be disappointed.

That said, large parts of this record get out the electric guitar out and growl at you. There is feedback and distortion and crunchy riffs, all of which perfectly serve the songs. Both Williams and Stuart Mathis get guitar playing credit, and while I can’t tell who does what, the playing is as powerfully emotive as Lucinda’s vocals, which is saying something. The blues riff on “Bone of Contention” gets right down into your backbone, and then a second guitar wanders into the song with atmospheric purpose over top of that.

“Bone of Contention” could have been the name of the album, with Williams exploring a lot of dark topics, calling more than a few people out in the process. The best of these is “Wakin’ Up” the story of a woman in an abusive relationship taking her power back, and letting that bastard know just how thoroughly a bastard he is in the process. She spits out visceral images that place you at the scene and make you wish you weren’t:

“He threw a punch
Somehow I missed it
I should’ve split
Thought I could fix it
He pulled the kitchen
Chair out from under me
He pulled my hair
And then he pissed on me
Next thing I swear
He wants to kiss on me
Yeah, after all this
He wants to kiss on me.”

Yeesh.

Williams also does some solid exploration of self-doubt and depression. “Big Black Train” is as good a song on the topic as you’ll hear. Compared to some of the other tracks, the song is stripped down and bare, but Williams compelling vocals more than fill the space. Her voice is a desperate plea for relief, as she feels dark thoughts starting to close in on her, reminding her of the terrible places those thoughts have taken her before. The expansion of the “black dog” metaphor to a train is a reminder that when depression gets this bad it doesn’t lope along beside you; it sweeps you up and carries you away.

If I had a quibble, it would be with the title track, which closes out the record. At seven and a half minutes is about three minutes longer than it needs to be. It is one of the albums more uplifting tracks, so maybe Lucinda is trying to balance all that blackness that came before.

If you’re looking for the relaxed sounds of “Essence” or “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” you won’t find much of it here. With “Good Souls Better Angels” Lucinda Williams has gone back to her roots, then updated it with a whole lot of mosh-worthy crunch.

Best tracks: Bad News Blues, Man Without a Soul, Big Black Train, Wakin’ Up, Shadows & Doubts, Bone of Contention, Down Past the Bottom

CD Odyssey Disc 1424: Bruce Springsteen

Sorry for the delay, dear readers. It was one of those weeks where all that stuff adult life requires gets in the way of the hobbies.

Back to the music, where it feels like not long ago that I was summarizing my complete collection of Bruce Springsteen records. Now I have two more, including this next review. What can I say? The guy keeps putting out good music.

Disc 1424 is…. Western Stars

Artist: Bruce Springsteen

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? A horse caught mid-gallop. I expect this picture was taken at some sprawling dude ranch owned by the Boss.

How I Came To Know It: I am a fan so I always check out Springsteen’s latest work. I don’t always like it, but I often do, and that was the case with “Western Stars.”

How It Stacks Up: I now have 12 Bruce Springsteen albums, but I’m not quite ready to rank where his 2020 release comes in (needs more listens). Instead, I’m going to rank “Western Stars” as though I only have 11. And of those 11 it comes in...10^th. Good enough to beat out “Devils & Dust” but not anything else.

Ratings: 3 stars

People who don’t like that Springsteen’s later albums have a kind of affected “ordinary man” vibe haven’t been listening very carefully to his earlier albums. All his albums sound like that. For the most part, they’re all pretty damned good at it. On “Western Stars” Springsteen feels a bit more affected than usual, but his natural talent for songwriting and storytelling still yields a few gems and makes the listen worthwhile.

I think this record is intended as a loose concept album. Or maybe more specifically, a drawn-out character study where the character is – I think – some California dwelling former stuntman living out on a farm. Think Brad Pitt in “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” except where the stuntman is even more chill, has a pet horse instead of a pet dog, and does a lot of introspection as he drives (or rides) around the desert.

The music and arrangements are deliberate, with Springsteen aiming for an anthemic, orchestral sound that evokes big wide-open plains and deserts. If you’re looking for the stark desolate sounds of “Nebraska” you won’t find it here. Springsteen’s later-life high plains drifter sees a desert teeming with life and memory, and decidedly less murder. I admit I wanted the record to have slightly more murder. Not all murder, or anything, but maybe one or two good ballads to keep things interesting.

But I digress…

All that anthemic flair can really interfere with the storytelling. “Sleepy Joe’s Café” has a rockabilly core, but it is totally drowned in production. Think “Mary’s Place” from “The Rising” but instead of the desperate joy of a community recovering from 9/11, just a bunch of old dudes getting quietly drunk.

The worst is probably “The Wayfarer” which feels like a somber jingle for “Wayfair” the online furniture store, if the ad was aimed at online indie kids living in rural Nevada. “Chasin’ Wild Horses” is a beautiful melody that would be one of the album’s better songs, but the soaring strings at the end sounded a bit too much like the theme from Jurassic Park.

The album also has plenty of wins, however. Springsteen’s Wistful Stuntman songs can be solid, and you get a real sense of the character on both “Western Stars” and “Drive Fast (The Stuntman)”. “Western Stars” is particularly good, with Springsteen singing in that timeless quaver of his, drawing you in to a man finding acceptance in the autumn of his years, even as he reflects back to glory days in lines like:

“Once I was shot by John Wayne, yeah, it was near the end
That one scene’s bought me a thousand drinks, set me up and I’ll tell it for you, friend.”

“There Goes My Miracle” is a bit schmaltzy with those ever-present strings, but it also shows how well Springsteen’s vocals have held up over the years. He can still bring it, and if that hook in the chorus doesn’t make you want to sing along then you may be a little dead inside.

The album ends with one of the album’s best. “Moonlight Motel” is a love letter to a relationship ended, seen through the dilapidated desert hotel now abandoned and overgrown. After all the bombast of strings and excess production, Springsteen wisely lets his best quality – songwriting and singing – shine through here at the end. The result is a bittersweet tale where you can taste both the desert air and the regret still hanging in it years later.

Compared to many other Springsteen albums covering similar ground, “Western Stars” is hampered by its production values, as well as the Boss’ efforts to shoehorn a story where a series of vignettes would have better served his purpose. However, there is still plenty of good stuff here, and well worth a listen.

Best tracks: Tucson Train, Western Stars, There Goes My Miracle, Moonlight Hotel

CD Odyssey Disc 1423: Fleetwood Mac

Today is Remembrance Day. Please spare a kind thought and a minute of silence for members of the Canadian Forces past and present, who have served, fought, and died to preserve and protect our freedom.

….

OK – here’s some music.

Disc 1423 is…. Rumours

Artist: Fleetwood Mac

Year of Release: 1977

What’s up with the Cover? Mick Fleetwood and Stevie Nicks. Nicks inhabits her role of “dark pixie” while Fleetwood poses as Haughty Drummer. As for the rest of the band – separate trailers, I presume, and not invited to the shoot.

How I Came To Know It: If your car had an a.m. radio back in the late seventies – or any time since – then you have heard songs from “Rumours” on a regular basis. For all that, the only Fleetwood Mac I’d owned prior to this year was a Greatest Hits album on CD that I sold back in the early nineties for beer money.

Then, for reasons I still don’t understand but I think have something to do with liking great music, last month I decided to dive into Fleetwood Mac’s back catalogue. “Rumous” was the logical starting point for the journey.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Fleetwood Mac albums, all bought in the last month. Of those four, “Rumours” is unsurprisingly, #1.

Ratings: 5 stars

There aren’t many superlatives that can be employed in discussing “Rumours” that haven’t been used before, and I’m not going to take a coward’s journey through a thesaurus to find them. The record is a classic for a whole bunch of reasons that you will already know.

“Rumours” is so ubiquitous to music collections that the only people who don’t own a copy are people who have converted entirely to streaming services. Even those people are streaming it. For years, I’ve had to guiltily admit I didn’t have it. Parting with the Greatest Hits album was partly me wearying of saying “no, but I have a Greatest Hits record” when someone offhandedly asked “I don’t know, can you put in Rumours?” when I asked what they wanted to hear.

I’ll admit, this irked the iconoclast in me. There’s a reason I take the piss out of the Beatles. Partly, someone has to. Also if every casual “I just like music in the background” rando with an a.m. radio likes something, something must be wrong with it, right?

While this is true more often than not, in the case of “Rumours”…no. There isn’t anything wrong with it. Also, the music is so light and airy and unassuming in its brilliance it doesn’t even inspire me to give it a poke, a la the Beatles. Fleetwood Mac isn’t claiming to reinvent music, or revel in their sudden discovery of the sitar; they are showing what pop music sounds like when everything is absolutely fucking perfect.

We could start with the production, which is clean and lush – the epitome of why everything good from the seventies sounds better on vinyl (my copy is on CD but let us not quibble). It isn’t easy to have this much going on in music and still make everything feel like a single organism. That they did this while going through multiple nasty and intensely personal breakups is a minor miracle that’s already seen all the ink required in previous explorations of the record. Let’s just move on.

The record has three gifted songwriters (Christine McVie, Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks), all at the height of their talents. Everyone of these three have a penchant for memorable melodic structures, and none feels out of place. The album sounds cohesive because somehow everyone brings everything to the middle, without it ever feeling like they’re compromising.

These three are also all gifted vocalists – both in their own right, and in harmony with one another. Each has their distinct sound: Nicks with her light quaver, McVie with that sweet classically trained voice, and Buckingham with that high indie rock thing, twenty years before indie rock was a thing. The album features various combinations, all to good effect.

The combination is a hit machine. The record spawned somewhere between four and six radio hits. It is hard to tell where the hits end, because all the songs have become so ubiquitous to pop culture they might as well be hits. It would be too much to discuss them all, so I shall instead offer a few stray observations that caught my attention this time around:

• “Songbird”: Holy crap, but Christine McVie has the voice of an angel. I love Stevie Nicks as much as the next guy, but this song is the pinnacle vocal performance on the record.
• “The Chain”: The bass solo in this song is great, but it also drives me crazy. This is because it sounds so similar to a couple of Blue Oyster Cult bass riffs by Joe Bouchard. The basslines throughout the record make me feel like John McVie and Joe Bouchard were reading each other’s mail, but “The Chain” has literally driven me mad for hours searching for the same riff in a BOC song. I was unsuccessful.
• Lindsey Buckingham’s guitar work: With all those great vocals and memorable lyrics, it is easy to forget just how good Buckingham is on guitar, whether he is wailing out a rock odyssey at the end of “Go Your Own Way” or plucking a light-hearted jangle on “Never Going Back Again”.
• “I Don’t Wanna Know”: Yet more proof that handclaps make all songs better.

In the unlikely event you own music and don’t own this record, please go buy it as soon as you can. One day this pandemic is going to end and you’re going to host a dinner party. Don’t be that person who says “I don’t have that album” when your guests inevitably call for it.

Best tracks: all tracks 

CD Odyssey Disc 1422: ACDC

Who knew that sitting outside could get old so quickly? Either winter has to go or this COVID thing does, because the combination is decidedly unfunny. I guess I should be thankful I don’t live in Toronto. Anyway, here’s some music from a place where it is currently springtime!

Disc 1422 is…. ’74 Jailbreak

Artist: AC/DC

Year of Release: 1984 in North America, but featuring music from 1975-1976

What’s up with the Cover? Angus plays guitar. If you are seeing more than one Angus, you may want to lay off the LSD.

How I Came To Know It: ’74 Jailbreak was a classic party and driving song of my youth, but I didn’t own it until 2003 when it was re-released and remastered. Remastering isn’t always the best thing for an album, but the ACDC remasters are excellent.

How It Stacks Up: I have just recently added to my ACDC collection and now have 10 albums. “’74 Jailbreak” is really more of an EP, but I’m going to count it anyway, and put it in at #7. That sounds low, but there are a lot of good ACDC records, my friends.

Ratings: 4 stars

“74 Jailbreak” is a short (5-song EP) featuring songs that were left off of the North American releases of their first two albums. Listening to this collection you will be moved to ask, “what were you thinking, North America?”

The record is a combination of four songs that are on the Australian version of the band’s 1975 debut, “High Voltage” (Disc 856) and their 1976 follow up “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” (Disc 619) but not released into North America until 1984. I often advocate on this blog for albums to be a few songs shorter, but the five songs on “74 Jailbreak” are every much the equal of the ones that were exported from Down Under back in the mid-seventies.

The whole thing starts off with “’Jailbreak,” one of hard rock’s all-time classics and slated for the “Dirty Deeds” record, where it would have fit perfectly. The song features singer Bon Scott at his greasy best, half-talking his way through the tale of a failed jailbreak. When you are 14 years old this song speaks to every bit of rebellion in your hormone-infused body. Sure the guy in the song is escaping jail under gunfire, and you just want to hang out at the mall a little longer, but the desire for freedom? That shit is universal.

“Jailbreak” also has one of rock and roll’s most enduring and classic guitar riffs, and while that middle section where Angus uses his guitar to represent spotlights, sirens and rifles is awesome, it is the riff that carries the tune. RIP Malcom Young.

The record has some of the best musicianship in the band’s career. I’ve always felt Angus Young’s guitar solos are a little overrated (if only because we all enjoy watching him skip across the stage, crouched over his guitar) but the songs on this record showcase him at his best. This is particularly evident on “Soul Stripper,” where he delivers some blues licks that are exceptional. Angus’ opening solo on this album may not be as celebrated as some others, but it is one of rock’s great moments.

Much more surprising, are the nuanced (for them) lyrics on “Soul Stripper.” ACDC is not known for their subtlety (I see their writing as a series of “non-tendres” because when a double entendre is this obvious, it ceases to be one). They also love to talk about sex and booze, so on a song like “Soul Stripper” you’d expect them to focus on the stripper side of the equation. But no, they surprise you. This is a song about a woman who digs into your psyche and tears down your emotional defences. And not in a romantic or sexy way. She hollows out the narrator and leaves him psychologically naked. But there’s no certainty anyone actually gets naked. In fact, beyond an early hand on a lap, I don’t think this song has any sex at all.

The album ends with a cover of the Big Joe Williams’ blues classic, “Baby, Please Don’t Go” which may be my favourite version of this song. Again, the guitar work is brilliant, and Bon Scott’s natural growl was born to make the blues as dirty as they can be.

The biggest problem I had with “74 Jailbreak” is it was too short, which is a weak criticism when you’re talking about an EP. I don’t know what marketing, distribution, or legal considerations when into taking these songs off their original LPs, but I’m glad in 1984 everyone came to their senses and let us North Americans join in on the fun.

Best tracks: ’74 Jailbreak, You Ain’t Got a Hold On Me, Soul Stripper