CD Odyssey Disc 1419: Linda Ronstadt

For the second straight time the Odyssey has given me a powerhouse singer with a penchant for genre jumping.

Disc 1419 is…. Self-Titled

Artist: Linda Ronstadt

Year of Release: 1972

What’s up with the Cover? It’s the return of the Giant Head Cover! Long-time readers (both of you) will know my long-standing obsession with the many Giant Head Covers music has to offer. This one is a good one, being Linda Ronstadt’s head, although the straight-ahead stare is a little intense.

How I Came To Know It: I have known Linda Ronstadt most of my life. This particular album is the result of me going through her back catalogue, primarily digging for Warren Zevon covers. This album has none of those, but it is still one of her better efforts.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Linda Ronstadt albums, and am on the hunt for two more. Of the two I have her self-titled effort comes in second to “Simple Dreams” (reviewed back at Disc 1278).

Ratings: 4 stars

Linda Ronstadt doesn’t write any of the songs on her eponymous third album, but when you have a voice like hers who wrote the songs fades into the background; you’re just glad she’s singing them.

The record is a bit of a hodgepodge on the surface, but underneath you can see Ronstadt has two motivations. First, she’s deliberately trying on multiple styles of music – flipping through old school country, folk, and even a little R&B. You might think this is her trying to expand her audience (she was not yet a superstar). That is probably partly true, but from what I know about her, she had a genuine interest in a lot of different kinds of music.

Her other reason is to show off those pipes. She likes singing the hard ones and she’s not afraid to take on songs made classic by someone else. Never is this more evident than her cover of Patsy Cline’s “I Fall to Pieces”. That takes balls, but Ronstadt’s version is every bit as good, and different enough to not feel derivative.

I like every direction she goes. The record starts with Jackson Browne’s “Rock Me On the Water”. It is a strong start and even if you’re not a Christian (I’m not) you’ll still appreciate the spiritual uplift the song gives you.

“I Won’t Be Hangin’ Round” is a bluesy number, with some great decisions in the arrangement, particularly that chorus of backup singers adding flourishes in just the right places.

At this point I should note that the arranger for all the songs is none other than Glenn Frey. Yes, that Glenn Frey. Ronstadt had Frey, Don Meisner and Don Henley in her backing band, which is where they met and decided to go off and form a band called the Eagles. You may have heard of them. Anyway, long-time readers will know I’ve poked a bit of fun at Glenn Frey over the years (he is a founding member of my mythical “worst castoffs” band, DEF GORF). I’m not repenting on those comments, but I will say Frey does a fabulous job on this record of putting these songs together that showcases Ronstadt’s voice and also her musical diversity.

Back to those style choices. On her cover of Livingston Taylor’s “In My Reply” she takes his country song and moves it solidly into folk territory. Ronstadt infuses Taylor’s tale of little white lies with whole new layers of heartbreak. You hang on every word and feel for every character and when it ends three and a half minutes later, you are a bit sad, but want to go back and listen to it all over again.

That’s generally true for the record as well, which comes in at a very close-shaved 31 minutes. I wanted a little bit more, but too short is better than too long. Leave ‘em wanting more, Linda.

The album ends with the Motown classic, “Rescue Me.” You’d think all this R&B groove would be the wrong fit for Ronstadt, but you’d be wrong. She settles down in the pocket with natural ease and lets the soul flow. She even makes the song fit well alongside everything that came before.

This record didn’t make Ronstadt any serious money back in the day (it peaked at #35 on the U.S. country charts and didn’t register beyond that). I guess it took a while for people to realize that getting a record with more than one kind of music is a good thing in the right hands.

Best tracks: Rock Me on the Water, I Won’t Be Hangin’ Round, In My Reply, I Fall to Pieces, Rescue Me

CD Odyssey Disc 1418: Neko Case

Every now and then the COVID pandemic rises up to punch you in a new an unexpected place.

This week, it was the news that one of my neighbourhood pubs, Logan’s, was closing. I only went there infrequently, but over the years I made some great memories there and seen some great bands. What I was most struck by was how the place could look so gritty and tough from the outside, but be populated with genuine, lovely people (patrons and staff) once you worked up the nerve to go in. Please spare a kind thought to a whole bunch of people now looking for work in a time where it is tough to find any.

In sharing memories of Logan’s, a friend of mine noted he’d seen Neko Case there many years ago, so it is fitting the Odyssey should randomly serve up one of her early albums for my next review.

Disc 1418 is…. Furnace Room Lullaby

Artist: Neko Case & Her Boyfriends

Year of Release: 2000

What’s up with the Cover? Neko lies on the floor of…the furnace room? This looks less like a lullaby and more like a murder scene. Or maybe there is nothing nefarious going on at all. She just went to check on why the heat wasn’t working, fell down the stairs and broke her neck. I believe this would be a case of being “drop-dead” beautiful, but don’t worry – it’s only pretend.

How I Came To Know It: I discovered Case a little over ten years ago, and began digging through her back catalogue. “Furnace Room Lullaby” was one of the gems I unearthed in the process.

How It Stacks Up: I have nine Neko Case albums. I’ll put “Furnace Room Lullaby” at #4, bumping the ungainly named “The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight. The Harder I Fight, the More I Love You” down one. That record is good but falls just short in the arbitrary game of comparisons we’re playing here.

Ratings: 4 stars

Sometimes the best thing about the evolution of an artist is that moment where they are still mid-mutation. Neko Case’s second album, “Furnace Room Lullaby” still inhabits a lot of the same rockabilly vibe present on 1997’s “The Virginian” but it also shows the beginnings of her move toward the more blues-tinged indie folk-rock that defines her later sound.

Old school crooners like “We’ve Never Met” and the rockabilly jump of “Mood to Burn Bridges” are both equally at home here, but we’re also treated to the ethereal “Porchlight” which features Case singing in a beautiful falsetto. Mixed in with the easy power of her lower register, you get a song that is laden with both ghostly yearning and old-fashioned heartbreak.

And speaking of that easy power, “Furnace Room Lullaby” is once again a showcase of Case’s incredible vocal talent. She drops big brassy notes that fill a room on every song, and many tunes hold a moment where Case’s voice soars so high you’ll swear time is suspended, or maybe just wish it was. On “Twist the Knife” when she sings:

“Tenderly, tenderly
Please take my breath from me”
Into the fountains
And up from the graves”

Her vocals are the living embodiment of that knife twist, stabbed into you in a peal of longing. The record has a lot of songs where her voice tears through your vitals it hurts, but as Case reveals on “Bought and Sold”, “nobody said that love was gonna be kind.”

The musicianship on “Furnace Room Lullaby” is also exceptional. The rockabilly flavoured tunes rely on energetic playing that hangs right at the front edge of the pocket, and Case’s backing band, “the Boyfriends” are up to the task. They also show a lot of depth and subtlety on the slower tunes and know when to take a back seat in service to the song.

The best song on the record (and my favourite Neko Case song of all time) is “Thrice All American.” It is a rust-stained love letter to the run-down neighbourhoods of Tacoma, Washington. This is a song about being from somewhere and how even if you don’t love that somewhere, the grudging admission that it still helps define you. 

“Thrice All American” is the epicenter of the record, a bit of a country sway underpinning a bittersweet folk song of tortured love. Ultimately, it’s just another song among many about a relationship that didn’t work out - in this case, a town - but through Case’s artistry it becomes a steely lullaby, turning a rough world beautiful. If you like those kind of lullabies, then this furnace room is for you.

Best tracks: Guided By Wire, Porchlight, Twist the Knife, Thrice All American, Bought and Sold

CD Odyssey Disc 1417: Lou Reed

Don’t you love when you discover some old classic record for the first time? It’s not new to the world, but it is new to you, and that’s what matters.

Disc 1417 is…. The Blue Mask

Artist: Lou Reed

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? As my wife noted when I showed her this cover, “that’s the t-shirt all the cool kids had in high school.” I wish I had this awesome t-shirt in high school, but I was busy sporting my Iron Maiden and Dio baseball shirts back then. There’s more than one way to be cool, kids.

How I Came To Know It: I was reading an article called “Top 80 albums of the Eighties” on Paste Magazine and “The Blue Mask” came in at #77. I don’t put much stock in how other people rank things, so the low rating didn’t put me off and I checked it out. After I knew I liked it I stalked the CD racks at my local record stores until a copy finally came in. This finally happened a couple weeks back.

How It Stacks Up: The only other Lou Reed album I have is a double-disc compilation anthology, so that doesn’t count. I expect “The Blue Mask” would rank extremely high out of all of Lou Reed’s albums, however.

Ratings: 5 stars

While it is fun to discover an album almost 40 years after its release, when the album is as good as “The Blue Mask” it is also bittersweet – all those years without this record in my life. And those cool alternative kids wearing Lou’s face to high school every day without it ever occurring to me I should check it out. Ah well, I’m here now.

“The Blue Mask” is a dark flower of a record, that opens to reveal the poet’s soul that lives within Lou Reed. It is raw and courageous but also so simple as to feel almost childlike. Lou speaks like a man with nothing to hide.

“Speaks” is the right word here, since the album is half-sung, half-spoken, with Reed channeling the spirits of sixties beatnik poets. He muses on all manner of topics, from his attraction to women, his struggles with alcohol, anxiety and the crippling doubt of an idealist seeking meaning in a world full of random tragedy and uncertainty. If that sounds like heavy shit, it is, but don’t worry – the journey is remarkably cathartic.

To pull this sort of performance off you require two things, immaculate timing, and great words and “The Blue Mask” has both. Reed’s delivery is deadpan on the surface, but immediately underneath there is a barely controlled turmoil of angst. This stuff will make you feel the feels.

Reed’s words are exceptional, and it is fitting that the opening track, “My House” is an homage to his early mentor and teacher, poet Delmore Schwartz. In the song Reed and his wife summon Schwartz’s spirit with a Ouija board. It doesn’t feel strange at all, a testament to the openness Reed approaches the subject. Whatever Delmore taught obviously stuck and then some and in that way and his spirit is present in the song, regardless of whether it’s in the Ouija board.

On “Underneath the Bottle” Reed delves into alcohol abuse with a brutal frankness, using basic imagery to capture the visceral excesses:

“Seven days make a week, on two of them I sleep
I can't remember what the heck I was doing
I got bruise on my leg from I can't remember when
I fell down some stairs
I was lyin' underneath the bottle”

The bottle here is a weight, holding Reed down, huge and menacing in a way the casual drinker will never know. The bruise is a metaphor for how the bottle abuses him as much as he it. Also, a reminder he fell down the damned stairs. It is dark but brilliant.

Musically, Reed has always eschewed complex melodic structures for basic tunes that nevertheless give weight to a story. On “The Gun” a menacing and restless bass line carries the tune with lots of low notes, and empty space for someone to do wrong with a 9mm in their hands. On “Waves of Fear” there is a powerful energy, even as Reed explores doubt and panic. The song has a strange empowering quality all the same, a “mosh the pain away” feeling that makes you feel better even as it wraps itself around old-fashioned primal fear.

Fortunately, Lou doesn’t leave us twisting. The final track of the album, “Heavenly Arms” is a romantic hymn. Reed calls for his wife Sylvia to come to his rescue. He’s shared all his doubts and now, like his listeners, he needs a hug. “Heavenly Arms” provides just that, reaching out to tell you it is going to be alright, and that the journey through the record was not only worth taking, but worth taking again and again.

Best tracks: all tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1416: The Handsome Family

This next review is one of my favourite bands, but not one of my favourite albums.

Disc 1416 is…. Smothered and Covered

Artist: The Handsome Family

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? Inside a house merriment ensues, but outside? We have a tale of two harpists in the rain. One harpist appears dead, the other, nervous. Given this is a Handsome Family album it is safe to assume the second harpist murdered the first.  Why? We may never know but everyone knows you don’t muscle in on a fellow harpist’s favourite corner and put down your hat. Harpists take that shit seriously.

How I Came To Know It: A while back I had a few Handsome Family albums and was looking for more, when I found their website was offering a deal to buy their entire collection of 12 CDs at a discount. I did it and made a deal to sell the three I had, to both replace them anew, and get seven more that I wanted. Two more albums weren’t on my list but were basically free when you tallied all the transactions up. “Smothered and Covered” was one of those.

How It Stacks Up: I have twelve Handsome Family albums. If you already knew that congratulations – you do well on math and logic problems. Maybe consider taking the LSAT. Anyway, “Smothered and Covered” is OK, but it isn’t one of my favourites. I’ll put it in at #12. Hey – someone has to be last.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

The byline under “Smothered and Covered” is “a personal collection of rarities including odd covers, bathroom demos, and orphaned songs.” With such a wide assortment of castaways you might expect the overall quality to be uneven, and you’d be right.

If you haven’t read my previous reviews, the Handsome Family is a husband and wife team Brett and Rennie Sparks, who sing a mix of folk, alternative country that tell stories featuring a lot of weirdness and murder. The horror writer in me loves them, and so does the music lover. I did not, however, love “Smothered and Covered”.

The ingredients are all there, and the album gets off to a promising start with the previously unreleased “There’s a City” which is Handsome Family engaged on full creep. Tinkling xylophone as Brett sings about a city where “people spin in dizzy circles” and where the houses are “made of smoke”. Great stuff right out of a Lovecraft novel or Twilight Zone episode.

This one is an original, and the album basically has four sub-categories of songs: demos of previously released songs, different versions of previously released material, covers, and weird ass musical experiments.

I wasn’t enamoured of the demos, which sounded like just that and in each case I preferred the final polished version. They weren’t terrible, it just didn’t add a lot if you own all the other albums. Maybe as a Handsome Family fan (and I am the biggest I know) I am supposed to swoon at the notion of multiple versions of songs; swoon I did not.

The covers are solid, but two stood out. Their version of the Kris Kristofferson classic “Sunday Morning Coming Down” has a haunting quality neither Kris nor Johnny Cash evoked. This being the Handsome Family, I imagined the narrator wasn’t just waking up after a bender, but from one where he blacked out and upon regaining consciousness finds a dead hooker in the bathtub. It gave the line “I fumbled through the closet for my clothes and cleanest dirty shirt” all new dread. It probably stinks, but at least it ain’t covered in blood.

Also good is their cover of the traditional murder ballad, “Knoxville Girl” featuring yet another loser murdering a woman who wouldn’t marry him. In trying to find earlier versions, I happened upon this 1953 clip by the Wilburn Brothers where they inexplicably think it would be fun to “send this one out to all the folks viewing in Knoxville, Tennessee.” Not exactly the kind of dedication that’s going to earn you a key to the city.

They also do a superb cover of Bill Munroe’s “I Hear a Sweet Voice Calling” which, refreshingly, has no murder but still involves an untimely death, this being the Handsome Family and all.

The real crime of the record (and what holds it south of 3 stars) are the half-dozen experimental tunes, with titles like “Prepared Piano #1” and “Cello #2” they are basically cacophonous explorations of what kinds of sounds you can make on the titular instruments. It may make you ask “why?” but it won’t make it enjoyable. These tracks are all super-short (under 90 seconds each) but they are not short enough. Again, I fear for the safety of my Handsome Family Fan Club credentials saying this. I’m probably supposed to revel in the weirdness. Ordinarily I would, but I want my weirdness to also be wrapped up in something recognizable as a song.

Near the end the Sparks recapture the magic, with a depressing Christmas song wrapped up in destitution and hunger with “Stupid Bells” which isn’t listed below as one of the best tracks but is a lot of fun if, like me, you enjoy creepy holiday tunes.

Overall this record suffers the fate of a lot of these kind of “castaways” records, being uneven and overlong (18 tracks) but there are some solid gains here – certainly enough to earn its place back on the CD shelves.

Best tracks: There’s a City, Sunday Morning Coming Down, I Hear a Sweet Voice Calling, Knoxville Girl

CD Odyssey Disc 1415: The Tragically Hip

From country on our last review we swing back to good old classic Canadian rock and roll.

Disc 1415 is…. Day for Night

Artist: The Tragically Hip

Year of Release: 1994

What’s up with the Cover? It appears to be a dreamscape of some kind, with a full mon glowing over some crazy trees. This feels like a scene out of an Oscar-nominated animated short.

How I Came To Know It: I know a lot of Tragically Hip albums, but this one comes from my friend Chris, who was parting with a bunch of his CDs and passed this one along to me. I have two friends named Chris who both love the Hip, and combined they are responsible for me having almost half of the Hip albums in my collection.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Tragically Hip albums. Of those seven, “Day for Night” comes in at #3, so a respectable bronze medal.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“Day for Night” is a record that takes some time to get to know, but it will be worth your while. There are a lot of layers of sound here, creating a wall of sound. That approach to music isn’t usually my jam, but the Hip make it work.

The biggest reason for this is the songs have great bones. These songs could be just guitar/vocal acoustic numbers and would still be good, and that solid underpinning shines through on almost every track. Some of the bluesy structures reminded me of their earlier records, with a natural groove that plays well off of all that thick reverb guitar and crunch.

It also helps that the production keeps everything very even in the mix. I feel this is a common aspect to many a band that stays together as long as the Hip did (ultimately they only split due to Gord Downie’s tragic illness and death in 2017). I expect letting everyone shine like they do on “Day For Night” is a big part of that longevity. It’s more fun to be in a band where your part matters just as much as the guy beside you.

As a listener, this evenness lets your ear wander from element to element easily. Sure the guitar is great, and the vocals are compelling and poetic, but more often than not I found myself sinking down to the great bass work of Gord Sinclair. Sinclair really pins their sound down, letting the melody fly over him without ever being overwhelmed by it with lots of extra nuance beyond the song’s basic rhythms

And of course Gord Downie is a natural frontman, with a hypnotic quaver in his voice and a gift with words that is positively poetic. When the music is stripped down, Downie’s vocals are like a mournful wind through a canyon, and when the wall of sound goes up, he blows like a hurricane. It is fun both ways.

People sometimes complain that they don’t know what Downie is singing about, but on “Day for Night” I found it was easy if I paid attention. I didn’t always want to pay attention (see: “letting your ear wander” above) but when I did, it was worth it.

A lot of the songs have an undercurrent of anxiety in them, but it is a very energetic anxiety; the kind that makes you want to absorb your problems into yourself rather than ignore them. He can turn a phrase with the best of them, like this opening of “Thugs”:

“Everyone’s got their breaking point
With me, it’s spiders. With you it’s me”

But more often than not the songs’ lyrics stand best when taken in their totality. The sad but defiant eulogy of “Inevitability of Death” or the stripped raw existential dread of “Scared” are both standouts but quoting a line or two seems to drain their power a bit.

Of all the Tragically Hip records in my collection, this one is the heaviest and that denseness took some work for me to dig through. At times it felt like it was sidling up against metal. It was definitely shaking hands vigorously with stoner rock. This is a record you don’t fall into so much as dig your way through. It was a bit tiring at times, and on a few songs, I gave up before I reached the chewy centre.

Also at issue is that common mid-nineties malaise of being too long. At 14 songs and almost a full 60 minutes, “Day for Night” needed a few well-placed bits of editing. You could probably lop the last two songs off the end and have it done. They aren’t bad songs, but by then my brain was full, and they weren’t interesting enough for me to want to shoulder aside all that good stuff I’d heard prior. Also, with song titles like “Titanic Terrarium” and “Impossibilium” you would be right to suspect a bit of self-indulgence.

That’s a minor quibble though (and the killer bass work on “Impossibilium” reminded me favourably of Blue Oyster Cult’s Joe Bouchard at his best). Overall, this record was a nice late addition to my collection, and I’m glad I gave it a chance, albeit a good 25 years after its release.

Best tracks: Greasy Jungle, Yawning or Snarling, Nautical Disaster, Thugs, Inevitability of Death, Scared

CD Odyssey Disc 1414: James McMurtry

The CD Odyssey is prone to wild style swings. My last review was heavy metal and now we return to country/folk.

Disc 1414 is…. It Had To Happen

Artist: James McMurtry

Year of Release: 1997

What’s up with the Cover? A man, his guitar, and an unattractive, ill-fitting hat. We must assume he insisted on wearing it even after the photographer pleaded with him to take it off. But no, James insisted it was a bad hair day and the hat was necessary, not realizing that it was 1997 and every day back then was a bad hair day. Bad hair was just the style of the time.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of the album “Just Us Kids” on a list of best indie folk albums, and that led me to McMurtry. From there I just started digging, as I’m wont to do.

How It Stacks Up: McMurtry has nine studio albums, but I’m only partial to six of them. Of those six, I put “It Had To Happen” in at #5. I already had “Childish Games” in at #5, but I’ve bumped it up one. Sometimes you gotta course correct.

Ratings: 3 stars

McMurtry records always have two things going for them: the tone of his guitar and a natural gift for storytelling. “It Had to Happen” isn’t his best record, but these two things hold it up and make it worth some of your time.

The guitar in particular is beautiful here. He doesn’t do a bunch of Eddie Van Halen style digital acrobatics, but McMurtry’s guitar has a “voice” that is rich and full. When he strums, the strum gets down into your soul and when he does a little riff it is free and easy. Each note or chord hangs just a little in the air, still fading as the next one comes in, lush and thick.

McMurtry’s playing is never in a hurry, which given his penchant for six- and seven-minute epics is just as well. With lesser playing, these songs could try your patience, but instead it is like a pleasant road trip, with miles and miles of highway and a journey that is just as relaxing as the destination. “Peter Pan” in particular just trills away like some kind of reimagined Eagles song. You can feel yourself in a convertible, refusing to grow up just like the song’s titular subject, hair free in the breeze. Sadly, the experience failed to blow that hat off McMurtry’s head.

The album is produced by Lloyd Maines and he does a fine job of just letting McMurtry’s gravelly voice meander through these songs, with lots of space to let that guitar shine even more.

McMurtry also tells a solid story. Although “It Had to Happen” isn’t as strong as some of the records that come after, there is still some good stuff in here. “Paris” is an exploration of how we all want to get noticed more than we are, and how that experience is amplified in a foreign city. It can be freeing to be anonymous, but it can also make you feel small.

The record has more than its fair share of quiet resignation. If you are in a mood to wallow at how life isn’t always the thrill-ride your youth imagined it would be, then McMurtry invites you to wallow away. Sometimes the images he employs are a bit strained (I wasn’t feeling “No More Buffalo” nor “Wild Man From Borneo” the way McMurtry wanted me to), but even those songs have an inoffensive mosey. I just wanted them to have a little more feeling and a little less clever, given their somber and introspective themes.

My favourite song is the record’s last, “Jaws of Life” a song that compares the wear and tear of life with that crazy contraption used to extricate people from car wrecks. Or as McMurtry leads us off:

“Questions in the eyes of the precious few
Like the want to say “man, what’s happened to you?”
I got aches and pains where I didn’t used to
I kinda hope they’ve got ‘em too.”

And then the chorus detailing just what happened:

“In the jaws of life I find myself
Chewed up like everyone else
Makes no difference what you thought
Or who you are. You still get caught
In the jaws of life.”

But for all that mangled experience, the song has a bounce that puts a spring in your step. As though McMurtry is reminding us that life takes a toll, but we’re all in it together.  Pull yourself together and try to saunter a little, even through the rough parts.

Some artists make one great record right away and then fade away. Others get consistently better with age. James McMurtry is the latter, and on “It Had to Happen” he is still growing into his greatness. Even so, there are still plenty of good tracks here to recommend it. Despite the hat.

Best tracks: Paris, Peter Pan, Stancliff’s Lament, Jaws of Life

CD Odyssey Disc 1413: Unleash the Archers

This next band is on my wish-list to see in concert once the pandemic is over sufficiently to allow for such experiences again.

Disc 1413 is…. Demons of the Astrowaste

Artist: Unleash the Archers

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? Pretty much everything awesome. Magic swords, alien landscapes, beautiful women, and a couple of random corpses. This cover had me wondering why every other genre doesn’t do covers as awesome as heavy metal artists. Folk music in particular would benefit from some swords and sorcery and a bitchin’ band logo with lots of pointy edges.

How I Came To Know It: I was introduced to Unleash the Archers last Christmas by a coworker who put them on a playlist for me. Once I was hooked (which was pretty much immediately) I fell hard, digging deep into their back catalogue, which is where I found this album.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Unleash the Archers albums, which I believe is all of them. I have dived so deep so quickly I don’t have the background to know which ones are best. However, since you aren’t not-paying me to equivocate, I’ll rank “Demons of the Astrowaste” at #2.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Like the album cover, there is a hell of a lot going on with “Demons of the Astrowaste” both musically and lyrically. The record is an ambitious journey into sound and story that may not land every single concept it launches but doesn’t want for effort.

With their fanciful tales and anthemic vocals, Unleash the Archers owe a heavy debt to Iron Maiden, but they’ve built from there to something uniquely their own. Mixed in with that traditional eighties metal is a heavy dose of European power metal. They also use more than a casual smattering of that growling double-bass thing which is either black or death metal (my palate is not refined enough to say with certainty in this case).

I will say it all works. Everyone plays brilliantly, although there is no getting past the particular brilliance of drummer Scott Buchanon. They guy is a master, hitting with military precision and metallic fury whether he’s just banging out a frenetic beat or slipping into aforementioned double bass.

At the other end of the wall of sound we are gifted with Brittney Slayes’ brassy and powerful vocals. Slayes soars over everything like Bruce Dickinson, lifting your spirts on a tidal wave of glory, with melodic structures that land somewhere in that sweet spot between Celtic folk and opera. It can’t be easy to sing the complicated yarn “Demons of the Astrowaste” spins and stay emotionally in the moment, but Slayes is up to the task.

So what the hell is this record on about? Because I could tell right away there was some complex concept album action going on, but it was hard to follow the plot. It involved some kind of epic battle and maybe an epic journey through time and space. I think. Was the main character good or bad (I guessed good) and how about the Galactic Guard that shows up in Act Three (I guessed bad). It doesn’t matter, because with all that rising tide of metal music, it all sounded Very Important Indeed.

While I could have left it there, curiosity got the better of me, so I went and read the lyrics (but only after making the guess in the above paragraph). Turns out I did…OK. The album is about someone who finds a cursed magic sword (see album cover) which turns him into some ultra-powerful dude filled with bloodlust. I think he becomes some sort of evil general and enslaves the world (or that’s another guy, not 100% sure).

Anyway, eventually he is overcome with despair at all the killin’ while under the sword’s influence (one of the record’s best tracks, “Despair”). But then some entity comes down from the heavens and offers to help. He is reborn into something even greater, defeats the Galactic Guard (who were once good, but are now evil – so I was half-right) and then tears through the fabric of space and time and is hurtled into the distant future, hoping he’ll be purged of his crimes at last. The record’s final lyrics summing all this up are…

“Defy the laws of quantum gravity
Break through the dimension
Hide in a world of super-symmetry
A space-time horizon”

Cool but also nerdy. Anyway, still with me?

That’s a lot of plot, but you don’t need to absorb it all to enjoy the record, which has a natural flow and power that is just as fun to float away on. I enjoyed the way the lyrics explore the complexity of what constitutes a hero and a villain, with evil characters overcoming their natures, and good organizations falling into decay, even though the record got too wordy and obscure in places. If you decide you just want to raise your fist and rock out, you’ll enjoy that too.

“Demons of the Astrowaste” is the last album with the original lineup (only Buchanon and Slayes appear on all five LPs) but I don’t know the band intimately enough to compare the differences yet. I will say all five band members play tight and hard, so I had no complaints on that front. A couple of the songs plod a bit in an excessive service to the plotline, but generally the music is solid, particularly when heard in sequential order.

Best tracks: Dawn of Ages, The Realm of Tomorrow, General of the Dark Army, Despair, City of Iron

CD Odyssey Disc 1412: Mark Knopfler

I love this next artist, but on his last release he almost lost me.

Disc 1412 is…. Down the Road Wherever

Artist: Mark Knopfler

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? A very desolate looking road. I like my roads with a few more curves in ‘em which is one reason living on the prairies does not appeal to me.

How I Came To Know It: I am a huge Mark Knopfler fan so I bought this on spec when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I have nine Mark Knopfler albums (plus assorted albums where he collaborates with other artists). Of the nine “pure Knopfler records” “Down the Road Wherever” comes in dead last. Here’s a full accounting:

1. Golden Heart: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 448)
2. Sailing to Philadelphia: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 136)
3. Privateering: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 748)
4. Shangri-La: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 740)
5. Get Lucky: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 129)
6. Tracker: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 1025)
7. The Ragpicker’s Dream: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 128)
8. Kill to Get Crimson: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 836)
9. Down the Road Wherever: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings: 2 stars

One of the best things about Mark Knopfler’s solo career is just how laid back he’s become in his approach to music. However, “Down the Road Wherever” is so laid back that it practically fades into the wallpaper. As the album progresses there are still some gems that simply will not be covered over, but it takes a patient ear to seek them out.

It was hard to write that lede because I have loved Mark Knopfler’s music long and deeply. I still do. But “Down the Road Wherever” takes the album’s title a bit too much to heart, his natural gift for ambling in the just the right direction often replaced with mere ambling for its own sake.

The record is not without ambition. Knopfler brings together the full gamut of musical styles he’s explored and mastered over his decades-long career. There is rock, blues, folk and even a little funk thrown in here. He pulls in a plethora of different instruments into the arrangements as well. Most notably of this is the horn section, with mixed results.

When the horns work, they present as a blast of trumpet in the more rock-leaning tunes, evoking classic Rolling Stones. However, more often than not they arrive as either jazz-centric noodles or annoying sax riffs that recall the bad old eighties. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again – not everyone can be Clarence Clemons. Clemons is a master of the art, throwing the musical equivalent of a semicolon, artfully dressing things up with a well-timed break. Most other saxophone ends up like most semicolons, getting in the way of a perfectly good sentence.

As for the ambling, it is all over the place, with many five- and six-minute songs that ought to be three or four. Knopfler is intending to set a mood, but the mood he sets is sleepy. The players are all amazing, but it is kind of like a mid-day jam session at the bar, where everyone is welcome to join. There are too many cooks on stage, and no one is throwing anything spicy into the broth.

It is not all bad news. Those trumpets in “Heavy Up” knock out a solid groove, and even though the song is a too long and lyrically humdrum, it has an undeniably catchy swing to it.

Also, Knopfler is in no danger of losing his guitar talent. In recent years he sits the guitar humbly back in the mix, but he remains the best guitar player on earth.

Also, there are a few gems on this record. “Nobody’s Child” is a somber exploration of when alone and abandoned children grow up to become fearsome and damaged adults. The song has a lone prairie quality to the production, stark as the tale it tells. Knopfler’s guitar walks you through the story with a grim grace, splashing a rich palette of colour out of his guitar to underscore each verse.

"One Song at a Time” is also a gorgeous tune and while it sounds a lot like things he’s done on many of his earlier solo albums, that’s only because it sounds good. More of this kind of Knopfler is definitely something I can live with.

Knopfler has a propensity to end a record with a stripped-down number which is often one of the better tunes on the record. “Down the Road Wherever” reinforces this trend with “Matchstick Man” a gorgeous bit of acoustic playing as Knopfler reminds us there is no guitar style of which he is not master. The song paints a vivid scene of a man riding across a lonely stretch of snow-covered landscape, guitar in hand. It is clear that even at the not-so-tender age of 71, Knopfler still sees himself as a wandering, itinerant artist with a heart full of wonder. While “Down the Road Forever” is not his best effort, it has enough of that spirit in it that I’ll be keeping it around a while longer, hopeful for more of that good stuff on his next release.

Best tracks: Nobody’s Child, One Song at a Time, Matchstick Man

CD Odyssey Disc 1411: The Chicks

It’s late and I’m tired, but this pilot light of creative writing ain’t gonna glow through wishful thinking alone.

Disc 1411 is…. Gaslighter

Artist: The Chicks

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover? No, this is not the Chicks in some earlier phase of their lives, it is Josie Bogle, Emma Martin and Caoimhe O’Shea, collectively known as the Corrigan-White School of Irish Dance pageant winners.

The cover also notes the album is by the “Dixie Chicks” but that’s just because it got released right before they changed their band name. They are now called “The Chicks” and so that, quite naturally, is what I’ll be calling them too.

How I Came To Know It: I am a long-time fan of the Chicks dating back to their first album, so this was just me buying their latest record.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Chicks albums total. Of those, “Gaslighter” lands right in the middle at #3 and is in close contention for #2.

Ratings: 3 stars

When Chicks’ singer Natalie Maines’ ex discovered she had reunited with her old band and that their first album in 14 years was going to be a concept album, he may have hoped it would be the fanciful story of a haunted amusement park. Instead, “Gaslighter” is an unapologetic exploration of every facet of the topic, “my ex-husband is a douchebag.” Cross a gifted songwriter at your peril, gentlemen.

You’d think this theme would get old, but it never does. After almost a decade and a half apart the Chicks show no rust. “Gaslighter” is a worthy entry into their already impressive musical career. Gone is most of their early country sound, as this album is the natural continuance of the journey into pop music they were on with their 2006 parting album, “Taking the Long Way.” While that album was still finding its way, “Gaslighter” has its feet well under it, striding purposefully through layers of sound with the “don’t give a fuck” confidence that the Chicks have always worn so well.

I will always have a soft spot for Emily Robison and Martie Maguire’s brilliant musicianship, and while they are often muted in this new sound, they get their moments to shine. The album does a fine job of bringing in other sounds as well, including the transmutative brilliance on electric guitar of St. Vincent on “Texas Man”. It was hard to be too disappointed when there is so much good going on.

Maines’ vocals have always been powerful, and this record is some of the finest work of her career. It helps that she has a whole lot to say about her ex, with very little of it being complimentary. Through the course of the record you get a very clear picture of just what she thinks of him from the opening title track, where she sings “you know exactly what you did on my boat” all the way through to the direct evidence noted in the title of Track 8, “Tights on My Boat” which Maines begins with:

“I hope you die peacefully in your sleep
Just kidding
I hope it hurts like you hurt me.”

And where we learn definitively that no, the titular tights were not hers.

For all the anger and betrayal you would expect on a divorce record, there is also a lot of self-examination and honest soul searching expressed as well. “Texas Man” is a celebratory and self-aware expression of rediscovered sexual longing (along with the natural trepidation that comes with getting back onto the dating scene). “Young Man” is the awkward effort to say the right thing to the kids when mom and dad are done with each other.

“My Best Friend’s Wedding” is the gravitational center of the record, as Maines recalls meeting her husband at a friend’s wedding. That wedding, too, ended in divorce, but the friend found love the second time around, and so hope remains for us all. It is touching stuff, both strong and vulnerable, and a reminder that all this pain will pass, with maybe that dreamed-of Texas Man noted earlier just around the corner.

“Gaslighter” often simmers with anger and disappointment, but at its core it isn’t a dirge, it’s a rebirth. It ends on the happiest note an album like this can – an appeal to decency and a request for the douchebag to just please sign the Goddamn divorce papers.

Best tracks: Gaslighter, Texas Man, Everybody Loves You, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Tights on My Boat, Set Me Free

CD Odyssey Disc 1410: Phoebe Bridgers

Hello, weekend! Let’s get right to the music review and one of the best albums of 2017.

Disc 1410 is…. Stranger in the Alps

Artist: Phoebe Bridgers

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? This cover is pretty scary, but that’s only because I’m leery around large dogs and that one is looking right at me. There is also a kid painted up as a ghost – a grim and terrible reminder that the pandemic has most assuredly cancelled Hallowe’en this year. Maybe not for the kids, but definitely for the rest of us.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review back in 2017 and checked out the album’s first single, “Motion Sickness”. I was impressed.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Phoebe Bridgers albums and this is #1.

Ratings: 5 stars

“Stranger in the Alps” did not make my best albums of 2017 list, but that’s only because I didn’t know any better at the time. If I could go back it would place no lower than #4, and maybe higher. This record is raw and powerful, and only gets better and better every time I visit it.

“Pop” is a label that is often applied to lighthearted bubble-gum music, but Bridgers proves that pop music structures can also be used to make serious and thoughtful music. “Stranger in the Alps” is confessional and insightful. Bridgers lays her soul bare for us, inviting us to see her at her most vulnerable. This vulnerability becomes the prism through which she shows us the world, unflinching and cold, but also beautiful.

I could spend this entire review just writing about the troubled perfection of “Motion Sickness” but there are plenty of articles on that already. Just Google “Phoebe Bridgers Ryan Adams” and you’ll have the whole sordid (and important) story soon enough. Instead, let me invite you into the deep cuts on “Stranger in the Alps”, since inexplicably the album failed to chart any other song (pop being the ficklest of mediums).

“The Funeral” is one such high point, a stark and painful exploration of an untimely death. Bridgers explores the issue through the prism of her own struggles with depression. This could feel self-serving in lesser hands, but she is keenly aware that no matter how low she gets, somewhere out there “someone’s kid is dead.” It is as cold as comfort can be, and painfully confesses that no matter the depths of someone else’s tragedy, we can only reconcile that grief through our own experience.

The production is ambient, with lots of space for Bridger’s breathy, light vocals to float over the top. The effect is to pull you into the stories, which are the perfect blend of narrative action and emotional exploration.

Musically, the record ranges all over, employing piano, strings and various other effects. These all blend so subtly you don’t notice the individual flourishes so much as the overall effect. When I did notice, it was often a perfectly timed electric guitar lick, infusing just the right amount of sharp edge to warn you that these songs are liable to cut.

While many of the songs feel deeply personal, one of the best is a murder ballad, reworked into Bridgers’ style. “You Missed My Heart” is the story of a man breaking into his ex’s house to murder her new lover, and then attack her:

“I chased her up the stairs and I pinned her to the ground
And underneath her whimpering I could hear the sirens sound
I rattled off a list of all the things I missed
Like going to the movies with her and the way she kissed me
Driving into downtown Wheeling, showing her off
Backyard barbecues and reunions in the park
I said I missed her skin and when she started laughing
And while I clenched down on her wrist, she said "that's quite a list
But there's one thing you missed

"You missed my heart, you missed my heart
That's quite a list, but what you really missed
You missed my heart, you missed my heart”

Bridgers juxtaposes this tale of woe (the narrator later is killed during a prison escape attempt) with a lullaby of a tune, trapping you in the rosy-coloured world of the killer who sees himself as a romantic until the end. That villain may have missed the heart of his victim, but Bridgers stabs her listeners clean through.

That mix of edge into pop music, aligned with vocals infused with a sad and raw reverie, owes a debt to both Liz Phair and Aimee Mann, while creating a unique sound all its own.

While I’ve talked about two songs in particular here, it was hard to separate out individual moments because of how intricate and cohesive the record fits together as a whole. By the time the final song fades out, you won’t want to go back and listen to your favourites, you’ll want to go back and listen to the whole damned thing. I encourage you to do so.

Best tracks: all tracks but particularly Smoke Signals, Motion Sickness, Funeral, Scott Street, and You Missed My Heart