CD Odyssey Disc 1402: Lone Justice

It’s Sunday morning and I’m in the middle of a lovely weekend, that included a dinner out at my favourite restaurant, chilling with some friends (at a responsible distance), hanging out with Sheila and playing board games and generally relaxing.  I’ll be spending today doing a whole lot of laundry, but even that will be fun, since I’ll get a bunch of music listening in at the same time.

All those fun activities meant a delay in writing this next review, but we are here at last!  Thank you, dear reader, for your patience and forbearance.

Disc 1402 is…. Self-Titled

Artist: Lone Justice

Year of Release: 1985

What’s up with the Cover? Lone Justice, posing like they are an English pop band from the sixties instead of an American country band from the eighties.

In addition to appearing displaced from her own time and genre, Maria McKee looks like she’s having an issue with her face. Or maybe someone has asked about her face and she’s currently in the process of dreamily replying, “what? Is there…something wrong with my face…? Am I awake?...Am I dreaming?”

You’re awake, Maria and we only have the photographer until 2:30. Try to focus.

How I Came To Know It: I heard of these guys on a list of alternative country albums a couple years ago and checked them out. I do not remember them the first time around.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Lone Justice album, so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Lone Justice was one of those bands that never fulfilled their considerable promise. They disbanded after just two albums, with singer-songwriter off to Maria McKee off to pursue a solo career. However, their first record still holds up after all these years, despite a few minor mishaps on production values. I’ve checked out the other Lone Justice record (as well as a bunch of McKee’s solo stuff) looking for more gems, but I just keep coming back to their eponymous debut.

The music is a mix of rockabilly, country and good old rock and roll. Old school songs like “Don’t Toss Us Away” sound like they’d be at home on seventies country radio, sit comfortably alongside up-tempo Tom Petty style rock numbers like “East of Eden”.

The Tom Petty connection is more than just notional; Heartbreaker keyboardist Benmont Tench plays on the record, and Tom Petty and Mike Campbell cowrote the album’s single, “Ways to Be Wicked”.

“Ways to be Wicked” is the album’s best song and deserved a better fate than to peak at #29 on the US rock charts. It has a good combination of grit and heartache and while she didn’t write it, Maria McKee’s honky tonk barroom vocals suit it well and bring it to life. McKee is a big part of what makes the record succeed. She doesn’t have same strength and bold tone of Neko Case, but she has the same brassy quaver.

McKee also writes some of the better tracks, including the raucous “After the Flood” and the anthemic “Pass It On”. Bass player Marvin Etzioni also does some solid writing, notably the record’s final track, the reverent and hymnal “You Are the Light.”

The big issue with this record is the production, which suffers from a malaise that claimed many records in 1985. It sounds tinny and distant, like it was recorded in a studio lined with old oil drums. McKee’s vocals are already a bit wispy by nature, and the almost total lack of a bottom end in the production does her no favours. Despite his stellar career, this was a sub-par showing for the much-lauded Jimmy Iovine.

There are also moments where McKee sounds more like she’s performing rather than inhabiting the song. The delivery is probably exactly what is called for in live performances (interestingly, she has released many live albums over the years) but the studio requires more balance between the energy of a live show and the internal pathos of the song. Ease off and draw your audience in to you. McKee nails the balance on “You are the Light” and I would have liked to see a bit more of that on other tracks.

For all that, Lone Justice has something going here, and while McKee has had a long and prolific solo career since, I would have liked to see where the band would have taken their sound if they’d got over the sophomore slump, and stuck it out a little longer

Best tracks: After the Flood, Ways To Be Wicked, Sweet Sweet Baby (I’m Falling), Pass It On, You Are the Light

CD Odyssey Disc 1401: Sarah Jarosz

The last time I reviewed this next artist it was the last in a flurry of albums (three in 16 albums). It has been a bit of a dry spell since then, mostly because she hasn’t released a solo album in four years.

Disc 1401 is…. World on the Ground

Artist: Sarah Jarosz

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover? I’m not sure this constitutes an entire world on the ground, but there certainly appears to be two birds on the ground. They are huddled pretty close together, so I assume either it is quite cold out, or maybe there is a tasty bug they’re both angling for.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan of Sarah Jarosz, so when she released a new album I checked it out.

How It Stacks Up: I now have four Sarah Jarosz albums, and this one comes in at a #1. This bumps all the previous albums down one spot since the previous recap so let’s er…recap again:

1. World on the Ground:  4 stars (reviewed right here)
2. Undercurrent: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1004)
3. Follow Me Down: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 996)
4. Build Me Up From Bones: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 1012)

Ratings: 4 stars

Sarah Jarosz has been busy for the last few years making some fine folk music in the supergroup, “I’m With Her.” With “World on the Ground” she makes her triumphant return as a solo artist.

If you didn’t know Jarosz, you might wonder how she would replace the musical talents of Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins so easily, but the answer is simple: she just plays all the instruments herself. Well…not all of them, just the guitar, octave mandolin, regular mandolin, bouzouki and clawhammer banjo. The rest of the band fills in on whatever is left. Be assured, this is not a vanity project for Jarosz – she’s just picking the best player, which is usually her. She has a surfeit of musical talent and while her mandolin playing is in a class of its own (the work on “Pay It No Mind” is particularly worth your time). She’s pretty damned incredible on all those other instruments as well.

As with her last solo record, “Undercurrent”, “World on the Ground” shows Jarosz employing multiple styles, working pop, jazz and even a hint of blues in with her usual Americana folk sound. And while “Undercurrent” showcases a lot of musical genius, “World on the Ground” takes a subtler but just as effective approach, with Jarosz playing as relaxed as I’ve ever heard her. Mature in her sound, and confident in her talent the result is an album that settles down into itself and takes the time to impress you with its subtlety.

The production is also a lot lusher, with a fair bit of resonance and big round notes. On “Orange and Blue” this adds a nice richness, particularly in the lower bass notes (one of the few things Jarosz isn’t playing).

On “Hometown” the same approach makes the song even more contemplative, as Jarosz tells the story of a woman who escapes her small town, only to find herself years later back again, looking back on how all her experiences led her home. It isn’t an upbeat journey, but it isn’t a total heartbreak either. If anything it is a song of acceptance that things don’t always end up like you expect they will. Jarosz’ sweet tones reminded me favourably of Suzy Bogguss as her character tries to sort out just what it all means for her, with us listening in real time.

Jarosz takes on plenty of characters on the album, grounding them with song titles like “Johnny” and “Maggie.” I particularly loved “Maggie”, who could easily be the young woman who returns years later on “Hometown.” Here, it is all about youthful rebellion. Our heroine intends to get out of town in a blue Ford Escape (the relevance to the car being very much part of the song’s imagery). The subject of a strong-willed woman driver, making an otherwise pedestrian vehicle heroic made me think of the Justin Townes Earle song, “Champagne Corolla”. In turn, that got me choking up about his untimely death. Rest in peace, Justin.

“World on the Ground” is also well structured. Right after the wistful “Maggie” we get “What I Do” with Jarosz demonstrating that even the simplest strum pattern can be magical when played with grace and feeling. Each note drips off her guitar like a bead of honey, hanging in time, only to land, full and sweet, exactly when it should. In many ways, it is a microcosm of the whole record, which is only 35 minutes long but still manages to artfully linger.

It has been great to watch an artist grow through her career, and Sarah Jarosz just keeps getting better and better.

Best tracks: Pay it No Mind, Hometown, Orange and Blue, Maggie, What Do I Do

CD Odyssey Disc 1400: Curtis Mayfield

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. Sad news today, with the announcement of the death of Justin Townes Earle, at only 38 years young. No cause of death has yet been given, but at that age it can’t be good. I just wrote my last JT Earle review a month ago (at Disc 1390), at the time having no idea that it would, in fact, be my last.

Rest in peace, Justin, and thanks for the music.

Disc 1400 is…. The Very Best of Curtis Mayfield

Artist: Curtis Mayfield

Year of Release: 1997, but featuring music from 1970-1990

What’s up with the Cover? Mayfield himself, putting that guitar through its paces.  

How I Came To Know It: I had probably heard Curtis Mayfield songs over the years, but I knew next to nothing about him until my friend Spence played some tracks off this album. I was hooked and went out and bought it the next chance I had.

How It Stacks Up: This is a compilation album, so it can’t stack up. Them’s the rules.

Ratings: I don’t rate compilation albums. They’re not really albums. Those who put Greatest Hits records on their “best of” lists should know better (I’m looking at you, Rolling Stone).

There will be times in your life when you just want to get down, and at those times I heartily recommend Curtis Mayfield.

“The Very Best of…” is a cross-section of Mayfield’s prolific career, mostly taken from his heyday from 1970 through 1979. The seventies are the era of funk and soul, and Mayfield is at the forefront of that movement, laying down tracks that still influence multiple genres decades later.

Growing up, I had almost no exposure to Curtis Mayfield. Small town British Columbia is just not the place to hear this kind of music; its frenetic restless energy just doesn’t match up well with dusty streets and empty spaces. But if, like me, you love the hustle and bustle of city life, then this music will speak to you. It left me fondly missing the throngs of summer tourists before COVID wrecked the experience. Sometimes all those people can be annoying, but listening to Mayfield, you just feel part of humanity, happy to rub shoulders with everyone (note: but only after the pandemic is over!).

The tunes are lush, filled with bass lines, guitar riffs, soaring strings and stirring horn sections. There is a little bit of everything going on, all in service to the groove.

Over this symphony of soul, Curtis Mayfield sings in his high falsetto, sexy and inspirational. When you see him for the first time you do a double take. With that high head voice and those upbeat rhythms you expect to see someone more akin to Prince; small and bouncing around with energy. Instead, Mayfield is a big imposing figure, commanding the stage with understated grace.

While his high voice is a constant, he writes songs that range all over the frontiers of soul. “Move On Up” is a prime example: a mix of RnB horn flourishes, South American rhythms and more than a little jazz. The potpourri of styles come together in an undeniable party of sound.

In terms of song subjects, this music will inspire you to either make placards or babies. On the placard side, Mayfield covers a number of social causes, including environmental protection, racial inequality, drug addiction and the biggest one of all – world peace! That last one (“We Got To Have Peace”) is up there with Cat Stevens’ “Peace Train” for songs that would seem ridiculous if they weren’t so damned inspiring. Listening to Mayfield sing out “save the children!” over and over as trumpets blast off in the background, anything feels possible.

On the baby side, I think you know how that one works, but if you’re at all uncertain, turn down the lights and put on “Only You Babe” or Between You Baby and Me.” It’ll all feel very natural very quickly.

He also has a song about a kid called “Kung Fu” who is inspired by his name to kick ass, showing that people don’t have to grow up with embarrassing names to make them tough (I’m looking at you, Johnny Cash).

This record breaks my usual rule for length, with 16 tracks and 74 minutes of music, but I had no complaints. A lot of that length are songs that go on for a while, but at no point did I want them to come to an end. Curtis Mayfield epics don’t repeat themselves so much as they slowly spiral higher and higher.

Curtis Mayfield died relatively young, a few years after a tragic stage accident. And while he’s gone, he left behind an impressive body of work that will continue to inspire future generations for years to come.

Best tracks: (Don’t Worry) If There’s a Hell Below We’re All Gonna Go, Move On Up, Get Down, We Got to Have Peace, Superfly, Pusherman, Future Shock, Kung Fu

CD Odyssey Disc 1399: Joan Shelley

Yeehaw! Boston Bruins through to Round Two of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Once again the hero was Patrice Bergeron who has ascended to a tie with Bobby Orr as my favourite hockey player of all time.

Anyway, there are still three gruelling rounds to go, but here’s hoping we end up winning one more game than we won last year.

Disc 1399 is…. Rivers & Vessels

Artist: Joan Shelley

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? I think it is Joan Shelley, if she were mostly composed of a collage of photos of rivers. This looks OK, with the exception of that Phantom of the Opera situation going on with her face.  

How I Came To Know It: I’m a big fan of Joan Shelley so I’m always hungry for new music from her. I discovered this record while poking around her Bandcamp page. It is only available via download, so when I finally worked up the nerve to download music for the first time, this one ended up on my order list.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Joan Shelley albums (with two more on my wishlist). “Rivers & Vessels” is really just a six-song EP, but I’m counting it anyway. It comes in at number three.

Ratings: 4 stars

Listening to Joan Shelley sing is like lying down in a mountain glade; feeling peaceful and elevated at the same time. Her tone is sweet and rich like syrup, and yet retains its power even when she’s landing notes up so high they leave many singers gasping for air.

On “Rivers & Vessels” her voice takes centre-stage even more than usual. The songs are stripped down and rustic and speak of a simpler time when you could just sit on a porch and trade songs with the neighbours.

Shelley takes that notion to heart, with four of the six songs featuring other indie folk artists, including Doug Paisley and Bonnie Prince Billy (both noted because I have other albums by them). In each case, Shelley blends her vocals beautifully in with theirs, following that grand old bluegrass tradition where no one upstages anyone else. I’m particularly fond of her work with Julia Purcell on “Magnolia.” The song’s structure matches its title in both form and lyrics; a beautiful memory that opens like a flower.

Less pleasant, but equally engaging is the dark and foreboding, “The Bridge” featuring Bonny Prince Billy (who also employs Shelley on his records). he song is about a woman returning to a bridge that was once a place of happiness in her life. Now, pregnant and abandoned she opts to leap to her death. The song leaves you hanging with an abrupt:

"My feet are moving slowly and they’re closer to the edge
Here’s where I started, and here’s where I’ll end it”

As the song abruptly cuts off, it leaves you to imagine the tragic fall that follows.

The musicianship is also excellent, particularly the guitar picking on “Pretty Little Miss.” The guitar work is provided by both Shelley and Nathan Salsburg but I don’t know who does the heavy lifting here. Whoever it is nails it.

The album ends with “Silver Whistle” a traditional Jacobite tune about the return of the Bonnie Prince to Scotland (Charlie is the Bonnie Prince this time, not Billy). Like a lot of great Jacobite tunes it is a combination of mournful and defiant. Most of the music on the EP is Americana folk or bluegrass, and this last-minute switch to Gaelic folk music could have landed oddly. Instead, Shelley’s voice instantly transports you to the misty shores of Scotland. The tune is one of hope and mystery, as the singer waits anxiously for the King to set foot back home again (spoiler alert – it doesn’t go well for him). The tune lands much more successfully,

And then, less than twenty minutes in the album is over, doing exactly what a good album should – leaving you wanting more.

Best tracks: Time Has Told Me, Magnolia, Pretty Little Miss, Silver Whistle

CD Odyssey Disc 1398: Elton John

I’m just back from watching a thrilling come-from-behind victory by my beloved Boston Bruins. Well, I watched all of it but the last 90 seconds, when Canadian broadcasting decided I’d much rather watch the Blues play the Canucks. No, I really wouldn’t. But the important thing is…we won in thrilling fashion.

Disc 1398 is…. Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy

Artist: Elton John

Year of Release: 1975

What’s up with the Cover? A lot. Our hero has apparently landed on the beach of some tropical island, populated with all manner of colourful beasts. There is also a town in a glass bowl, where suited figures haul around giant watches. This cover would make for an excellent Doodle Art.

How I Came To Know It: This is one of Sheila’s albums, which she bought a number of years ago while fleshing out our Elton John collection.

How It Stacks Up: We have seven Elton John albums, and this is the last one. I had saved last place for it, but after listening I moved it all the way to #5. As this is the last Elton John review, here’s the full recap:

1. Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Only the Piano Player: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 221)
2. Tumbleweed Connection: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 900)
3. Madman Across the Water: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 232)
4. Caribou:  3 stars (reviewed at Disc 709)
5. Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy: 3 stars (reviewed right here)
6. Honky Chateau: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1175)
7. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 526)

Ratings: 3 stars

With the combination of that overblown title and crazy acid-trip album art you could safely bet “Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy” was going to feature a whole lot of excess. And you’d be right. This record feels like a combination of the best damn dance party you’ve ever attended, combined with the tension headache of that same party when it is still raging at five a.m.

As usual, Elton John has an exceptional talent for writing a melody. Every song skips its way through notes that trill with triumph and joy. You’re not sure if they belong in a rock opera, a stadium or just blasting out of a two-seater convertible, but you know you want to celebrate. Even the sad tunes have a mania in them that makes you throw your hands in the air and let out a whoop.

The production is as lush as Elton John gets, which is saying something. Little flourishes exist throughout every song, but everything is orchestrated in a complementary way, and things never get muddy.

There is a strong sense of soul and R&B that snakes through every song, and against that backdrop Elton plays matchmaker with a whole host of different musical ideas. The title track feels vaguely country, “Better Off Dead” feels like a Broadway number and “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” is pure romance, but every one of them has an undertone of funky rhythms that hold them together.

For the most part, I surprised myself by how much I enjoyed all this excess. At times Elton seems to be trying out musical concepts just to prove he can make them work, but since he tended to succeed it was hard to fault his hubris.

This is the nightclub at its best, with Elton dropping proto-disco dance sounds and making you feel like you’re an integral part of the scene. Even “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” has an element of “the slow dance” song about it, in addition to possessing one of pop music’s great hooks – maybe two of them.

So that’s the dance party, but remember I also mentioned that tension headache. The musical equivalent of that is reflected in songs that tend to be a bit too long. Elton is so good at constructing and resolving melodies that when he drags them out a bit because the band is in the groove, it feels superfluous. His cover of “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” (not on the original, but a single release thrown onto my CD re-issue) is a gratuitous six-plus minutes long. Four minutes in I liked it better than the original, but a minute later I was ready for it to be over.

The album has a few of these “ready for it to end moments” (and not just on the bonus tracks) where I felt things just needed to be slightly tighter. I was also drawn less to Bernie Taupin’s lyrics than usual, although this could have been partly due to all that lush music taking centre-stage.

It still won me over, however. “Captain Fantastic” turned out to be a solid record and – despite my preconceived notions going in – a worthy and notable entry in Elton John’s impressive body of work.

Best tracks: Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, Tower of Babel, Someone Saved My Life Tonight, Better Off Dead, Philadelphia Freedom (technically a single, but on my reissue of the CD)

CD Odyssey Disc 1397: Jaime Wyatt

Yesterday the Boston Bruins won Game 1 of their first round series (go Bruins!) and as I write this, they are playing Game 2. I am taping that so I can skip intermission and watch the game in less time – also because I want to write about this album while it is still fresh in my ears from the walk home.

Disc 1397 is…. Felony Blues

Artist: Jaime Wyatt

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Jaime stands in front of an old house in a neighbourhood that reminds me of the one I grew up in (i.e. not that nice). She looks tough, awkward, and vulnerable in equal measure.

How I Came To Know It: I thought I was introduced to this album by Ethan Hawke, on his appearance on Amoeba Record’s Youtube show, “What’s in My Bag?” There was a lot of great stuff in Ethan’s bag that day and listening to him talk about music I thought we’d make excellent music buddies.

Except when I went to fact check that for this blog entry there was no Jaime Wyatt to be found. In my general zeal to hang out with Ethan Hawke and have a few beers, I had transferred my happy discovery of Jaime Wyatt to him. Such are the tricks the mind plays on itself, dear reader. Cognitive dissonance is a bitch.

As it happens, it was Shooter Jennings who introduced me to Jaime Wyatt on his appearance on “What’s in My Bag?” So, thank you Shooter. It should be noted, however, that Shooter was probably in the middle of producing Wyatt’s 2020 release “Neon Cross” when he recommended her. Or maybe she saw him fanboying about her earlier record and that started the conversation.

In any event, finding this album on CD proved difficult, as it was good and out of print by the time I heard about it. Fortunately, Wyatt must have printed a few extra copies to support “Neon Cross” because it showed up on – of all places – Amazon. Sorry, Jaime. If you’d had this available on Bandcamp, I would’ve gone there.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Jaime Wyatt albums and they are both amazing. Of the two, I’ll put “Felony Blues’ out in front at #1.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Grit, hurt, and heartbreak are mainstays of country music, but you won’t hear them handled much better than on Jaime Wyatt’s “Felony Blues.”

This is an album of defiance, rebellion, and regret. Most of the songs are about redemption and sought-for forgiveness (with a couple moments of pure rebellion thrown in) but whether they are about emerging into the light or looking back into the darkness, it is the darkness that defines the record.

Usually I avoid having any biographical information influence how I feel about a record, but I can’t deny that knowing Jaime Wyatt used to do a bunch of heroin as well as a serious stint in prison adds something to this record. If the songs feel real, it is because they are: grounded as they are in Wyatt’s real-life experiences.

She’s got a natural southern rasp, tinged with a west coast sensibility that evokes the Bakersfield sound of Dwight Yoakam and Buck Owens. There is a bit of fiddle where it’s called for, but while songs like “Stone Hotel” sound triumphant on the surface, it’s an empty triumph when you realize that the hotel in question is the jailhouse.

On “Wasco”, Wyatt sings of a young woman who can’t wait to meet up with her boyfriend…who is serving time in Wasco State Prison. As she notes in a moment of ironic wisdom:

Maybe if I’d spent a little more time in high school

I just might be somebody else’s girl”

But instead she can’t wait to get out (I think of prison herself) to meet up because “ain’t nobody gonna tell me who to love.” This is followed by some falsetto “woo-hoo-hoos” that make it clear that at this point when it comes to questionable life choices, she’s all in.

Hearing these songs you’ll be torn between the desire to reach out and help Wyatt, and the trepidation that comes from knowing to do so would risk your hand.

For all that tough stuff (and there is plenty) there is also a heart-wrenching vulnerability. “From Outer Space” is a song of regret and apology from someone who wants to do better, all the while recognizing she’s got a long journey home before that can happen. The song also shows Wyatt’s songwriting range, merging a country production with the creative melodic structures you would expect on an Aimee Mann song. The song sounds a lot like Aimee Mann, particularly if you first scraped the inside of Mann’s throat with some sandpaper and then poured five shots of whiskey down it.

“Giving Back the Best of Me” is a song of recovery and gratitude – the kind you can only appreciate once you’ve been to hell and returned alive. Compared with some of the earlier rough edges, it is a song with a soothing vulnerability. Wyatt takes the opportunity to show her incredible range and ability to adjust her singing style just the right amount to suit the mood of each song.

“Neon Cross” is one of 2020’s better records – just as good as this and a bit more polished. But for my money nothing can replicate the rawness of Wyatt’s journey on “Felony Blues.” It was no doubt a hard path for Wyatt to live, but thanks to her talent we get a front row seat for every step of her journey.

Best tracks: Wishing Well, From Outer Space, Wasco, Giving Back the Best of Me, Stone Hotel, Misery and Gin

CD Odyssey Disc 1396: Lera Lynn

I felt a bit off all day today for some reason. Fortunately, I had Bruins playoff hockey to look forward to…except I didn’t. Instead one of the longest games in NHL history (Columbus and Tampa Bay went into five overtimes) went on for so long that the league eventually postponed my game until tomorrow. Damn.

Disc 1396 is…. Have You Met Lera Lynn?

Artist: Lera Lynn

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? Lera decides to put on eye makeup while driving. I want Lera’s eyes to be as alluring as the next guy, but this just seems unsafe.

How I Came To Know It: I heard Lera Lynn first on the True Detective soundtrack, and then we saw her live in concert in Nashville back in 2015 (see my review at Disc 792 for details). When I was at that show I picked up most of her back catalogue from the merch table.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Lera Lynn albums. Of those four, I would put “Have You Met…” in at number two

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“Have You Met…” is Lera Lynn’s most country album, but even here, early in her career she is already well on her way to sidestepping genres and labels.

The country elements are strong, principally in some of the melodic structures, such as the slow sway of sexy numbers like “Fire & Undertow,” where she puts on her best seventies croon. There’s even the occasional appearance of pedal steel on the record, but there’s a lot more going on besides.

There is also a sultry, soulful sound that would be more at home in a jazz lounge than a county fair. Where she puts the two elements together is where the magic happens. “Bobby Baby” is a dirge about its hard-luck title character. The guitar has that Nashville reverb, but there is something else going on that evokes “The Ballad of Hollis Brown”; an atmospheric menace to the song’s structure that pulls at something deeper.

On “Good-Hearted Man” she stays old-school country with a chorus that evokes Loretta Lynn, but with verses and reverb guitar that lurks in the back alley behind the local rock show. Lynn fully absorbs her character. He isn’t a good person but he’s singularly unable to see that, even as he digs the hole deeper with back-handed justifications like:

“Everybody fucks around
Everybody makes choices that ain’t sound”

Or put another way, “it ain’t me babe – it’s everybody.”

Every song is well served by Lynn’s wonderfully smoke-filled voice. It is breathy, but with a compelling power in her higher register. It isn’t perfect, and there are times when she doesn’t fully enunciate her consonants or curls them in weird ways. At those moments, the spell is broken, but then she climbs into a whispered head voice and wins me right back. When she goes into a falsetto singing of “it slipped by you” on “Happy Ever After” it is like magnetic north to the regret of another bad decision caught in song.

There are other times when the lounge tunes don’t fully draw me in, like on “Paper Anchor” which felt like it took a while getting where it is going, but even on those the emotional intent is there if you let it get into your bones. I always felt that no matter how much sadness and mystery Lera Lynn delivered, there was an even deeper ocean below the one I was currently floating in.

 ynn also does a brilliant cover of Leonard Cohen’s “I Tried To Leave You” which features a big bold guitar, and an almost barroom grit. The mixture of regret and desire is a perfect fit for the album’s originals, and while it would be impossible to like it more than Cohen’s original, it lands pretty much even.

Like my last review, this record was once again short, at just 10 songs and 30 minutes. Just like with THICK, I was still enjoying it after multiple listens, happily diving deeper and deeper into Lynn’s emotional world, and knowing I wasn’t going to find the bottom.

Best tracks: Happy Ever After, Gasoline, Bobby Baby, Good Hearted Man, I Tried to Leave You

CD Odyssey Disc 1395: THICK

Welcome to the weekend! I’ve had a busy week and I’m looking forward to some quality chill out time. Apart from watching TV, when I chill out it usually involves music (e.g. – playing a game and listening to music; reading a book and listening to music; hanging out with friends and listening to music). Music basically makes everything better. Except TV, obviously. It’s really disruptive if you’re trying to watch a show.

Disc 1395 is…. 5 Years Behind

Artist: THICK

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover? A Giant Head Cover, but with a twist – this Giant Head is a collage of the various band members’ heads. I’m not big on collage, but who doesn’t love a Giant Head Cover?

How I Came To Know It: I think I read an article about obscure bands from Brooklyn worth checking out. Turns out this one really was.

How It Stacks Up: I only have this one Thick album, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Brooklyn has been putting out a lot of good music lately, none better than the garage punk sounds of THICK.

“5 Years Behind” is the perfect bridge between fuzzed out rock and roll and the visceral vitriol of punk. It isn’t easy to sound raw but play tight, but THICK thrive in that narrow window. There are plenty of slam-dance worthy tracks, and most of those slip in some pretty appealing rock riffs (some guitar, some bass – all good). The addition of that bit of polish never feels contrived or commercial, however, and while it would be easy to label THICK as “pop punk”, only the strongest punk purists could find offence here.

As for me, I could care less about labels – I just like good music. “5 Years Behind” doesn’t have a single misstep, with plenty of standouts. I found myself thinking that if this were a nineties band, there would be a lot of disaffected “what’s the point of it all?” tunes. It being 2020, THICK is just as disaffected, but the songs express a lot more agency.

For example, on “Sleeping Through the Weekend” they don’t just bemoan the slow passing of days and the inevitability of change, they end the song with a repeating refrain of “I don’t care about your job!” It isn’t angry, it’s just a pointed reminder that they’re not looking for sympathy. Also, they don’t want to have any boring, corporate water cooler conversations. Life’s too short.

“Mansplain” is a shot across the bow of everyone who has (or will) treat the trio differently because they are women. The song begins with a series of passive aggressive things men say when talking about all-women groups. I like to think that these clips are a bunch of the band’s male friends playing the role of various douchebags. The alternative – that they have recordings of actual douchebags – is too painful to contemplate.

Not content with a litany of dumb things dudes say, “Your Mom” is a laundry list of generic advice their friend’s square mom gives them. It is the album’s purest punk moment, and like “Mansplain,” underscores how THICK is not only not interested in other people’s judgments of them, they are more than willing to underscore just how annoying they find those judgments. It helps that they wrap that anger up into some pretty kick ass songs.

Given they are a trio, THICK makes a surprising amount of sound. Drummer Shari Page hits hard and crisp, jumping the beat in a way that gives every song a driving energy. Guitarist Nikki Sisti doesn’t play anything complicated, but she plays with a rich, round tone, drawing her riffs out in a way that makes you want to air guitar along – I did so frequently.

As befits its punk roots, the album is a brief 29 minutes long, and as a result I got in a lot of listens. On every one I enjoyed the record more and more, and I expect this will be a strong contender for my “best of 2020” list come the end of the year.

Best tracks: Sleeping Through the Weekend, Bumming Me Out, Home, Mansplain, WHUB, Your Mom, Party With Me

CD Odyssey Disc 1394: John Gorka

After spending our last couple of reviews in the eighties, we now poke our nose into the nineties. In the early nineties I was seriously into folk music. Back then, this next album would have appealed to me even more. Instead I discovered it sometime in the last decade. I can’t say when exactly because the internet has reposted an “updated” version of the article where I discovered John Gorka. The old version of that article is long gone, along with whatever original content it held. It is all very 1984.

Disc 1394 is…. Jacks’ Crows

Artist: John Gorka

Year of Release: 1991

What’s up with the Cover? The worst of early nineties oversized clothing meets the worsts of early nineties beard/mullet combos, only to then be presented in the worst of early nineties graphic art.

Early nineties, we do not miss you.

How I Came To Know It: A number of years ago John Gorka’s “Land of the Bottom Line” was featured on a “great obscure folk records” list. That drew me into his catalogue more fully, and here we are.

How It Stacks Up: I just bought two more John Gorka albums last weekend (I suspect they are weaker efforts, but they were cheap, so I took a chance). That brings my total to four albums. Of the four, “Jack’s Crows” comes in at #2.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Jack’s Crows” is a solid folk record that would benefit from being just a little shorter. It has four or five gems, but they are spaced out among other songs that meander and draw focus away from the good stuff.

As if to prove this theory true, the first few songs on the record are largely forgettable. The title track in particular feels like a submission to a writing contest. It is replete with imagery but tries to cover too much ground and only succeeds in stretching its metaphor.

However, like a dip in a cool lake, while those first few songs aren’t particularly memorable, they do immerse you in Gorka’s sound. His baritone vocals, which are heavy in their chest voice, and the light strum of his guitar playing. Neither instrument will blow you away with its virtuosity, but Gorka knows enough to stay within himself. Everything is designed to serve the song if you’re willing to wait around and acclimate.

If you do, you’re soon rewarded. “Houses in the Field” is a song about struggling farmers turning their agricultural land into suburban housing. Gorka doesn’t judge those who sell out to the developers, but he does evoke a deep sadness over the loss of a way of life.

“Semper Fi” is another standout, a song about Gorka’s father that reminded me favourably of Guy Clark’s “The Randal Knife.” Like that song, it is an understated and mournful elegy. Each line is long, unfolding with a steady grace. Gorka makes use of a caesura in each line to give the song a slow but purposeful stroll:

“My father met Eleanor Roosevelt/in 1945

The war at last was over then/and they were still alive.

Her husband was the president/’til he ran out of time.

Her Franklin D. was history/and they put him on the dime.”

Doesn’t sound like much, but choked me up all the same, knowing Mrs. Roosevelt later gives Gorka’s father a blanket as he lay in the hospital.

On “Where the Bottles Break” Gorka speaks as a character living in the inner city, getting by as rapacious landlords raise their rents to develop the neighbourhood. He even references “Donald what’s his name” and yes – that’s who he means.

It’s the second time urban development features prominently on the record, and while Gorka isn’t afraid to confront social issues, it always is through the lens of the individual experience of his characters.

However, he also is up for some self-deprecating humour, including the album’s best song. On “I’m From New Jersey” Gorka runs through a list of New Jersey stereotypes, owning them with the nuance and bravery that a local can manage. As the chorus woefully notes:

“I’m from New Jersey

I don’t expect too much

If the world ended today

I would adjust.”

And later:

“I’m from New Jersey

It’s not like Texas

There’s no mystery

I can’t pretend.”

But for all that, he ends up by clarifying that all those self-deprecating Jerseyites are also the people that will go out of their way to help you when the chips are down. The song may play for laughs early on, but it is all to set up Gorka’s quiet pride for where he’s from.

It’s unfortunate that right after “I’m From New Jersey” pens such a poignant love letter to his home town, he follows up with the forgettable ode, “My New Neighbourhood.” It has some strong imagery but is weighed down by an awkward tune that limits impact of the one thing that a mood piece needs, mood.

A slightly better balance, and this record could be great. From a pure imagery perspective, it is already there. However, there are just too many songs I’d probably skip if the Odyssey allowed – if only to get to the best stuff. For that reason, I’m leaving it at an affectionate three stars.

Best tracks: Houses in the Fields, Semper Fi, Where the Bottles Break, I’m From New Jersey, The Ballad of Jamie Bee

CD Odyssey Disc 1393: Billy Idol

It has turned into an eighties week at the old CD Odyssey. My last review was the Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams” and fresh on the heels of that masterpiece comes another one of the better early eighties albums.

Disc 1393 is…. Self-Titled

Artist: Billy Idol

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? Billy Idol, looking moderately cool in his faux-leather vinyl vest. Billy has a tattoo, which back in 1982 was code for “total badass”.

How I Came To Know It: I knew the singles off this album when I was a teenager but don’t recall the record (although it may have been played at a party or two back in the day). More recently it came to my attention when my friend Chris played some early David Bowie at a music listening night. This sparked my interest, so when I saw a bargain on a 2-CD set (along with 1983’s “Rebel Yell”) I scooped it up.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Bill Idol albums (if you are following along, you already know which two). Both are great records, but I’m going to give the edge to this one and put it #1.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Billy Idol is the crooner with a snarl, and the brilliance of his debut album is how he manages to do both with energy and style. 1983’s follow up “Rebel Yell” has had a more enduring impact on pop culture (and spawned more hits) but it came together first on his self-titled debut.

“Come On, Come On” opens the record and sets the tone, with a simple but infectious guitar riff from Steve Stevens. Stevens is a big part of Idols’ sound, adding the crunch these songs need to pull them out of the eighties pop tunes they might otherwise be. Idol may evoke rock and roll with his lip snarl and some well-timed fist pumps on a music video, but it is the music that gives these records staying power, not the image-obsessed rock videos.

“Come On, Come On” also demonstrates Idol’s ability to raise a song from a simple keg-shaker into an anthem. His voice is surprisingly smooth, adding just the right amount of grit to draw in all those hard rockers like me that were alert to any signs that this might be just another pop song. Of course it was just a pop song, but it was a great pop song, so we were easily placated.

After “Come On, Come On” we are treated to the album’s classic hit, “White Wedding”. Again, the combination of smooth production and guitar riff lands the song right at the intersection of pop and rock. This is also some of Idol’s best vocal work, conveying the menace of a family feud, the layers of which are never fully explained but lurk just under the surface of the song.

“Hot in the City” combines an E-Street Band swing with a bit of guitar and Idol’s best impersonation of an early sixties heart-throb (which is what he really is). I had to check the liner notes of this one because I was convinced it was a cover from that earlier era but no, it’s an original.

The album always makes you feel like you are an integral part of the experience. “Dead on Arrival” is a fist-pumping rock anthem, and “Nobody’s Business” has an “oh-oo-oooh-oh-oh” in the chorus that encourages you to ooh-ooh along. And there is no song ever made that was more tailor made for arm swinging eighties-dancing than “Dancing with Myself.” If anything could make that kind of dancing cool (and not much can) it is “Dancing with Myself.”

“Dancing with Myself” and “White Wedding” remain company Christmas party staples, guaranteed to load the dance floor with middle-aged executives and twenty-something interns alike. And those twenty-somethings aren’t just out there because they were raised on Mom and Dad’s record collection; they’re out there because the songs are still amazing.

What is also amazing is how many other killer tracks are on the album. They may not make it on Idol’s many compilation records or be DJ favourites under the disco ball, but they are worth getting to know all over again, and so is this record. Please go do so. You can thank me later.

Best tracks: Come On Come On, White Wedding Part 1, Dead on Arrival, Nobody’s Business, Hole in the Wall, Dancing With Myself