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

CD Odyssey Disc 1421: Lydia Loveless

I first heard this next artist as an opening act at a concert. People who show up late to a concert and miss the opener aren’t just being rude (although it is rude) they’re also missing out on a chance to discover something new.

Disc 1421 is…. Real

Artist: Lydia Loveless

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? Lydia’s had a rough night, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll just back away slowly and let the lady enjoy her cigarette.

How I Came To Know It: I found out about Lydia Loveless because she was the opening act to a Mountain Goats show we saw in Portland last year. If you’d like to read a review of her show, go check it out at Disc 1298. I liked her stuff, so while I was down in the States I bought a couple of her albums. Not this one, though. I bought “Real” only last week through Bandcamp while rounding out my collection.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Lydia Loveless albums and I like them all, but one of them has to be last. This is it.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Real” has everything I like about Lydia Loveless: raw and real lyrics, her natural talent for storytelling and that big evocative voice. The only place the album failed me was on some of the production decisions.

First the good stuff, and let’s start with her voice. You know that tightness you get at the back of your throat right before you have a good cry? That’s Lydia Loveless’ vocals, minus the crying. She takes all that hurt and lets it fill her voice like a bellows, without ever losing control. There’s plenty of power there, and great tone but it is layered into a sort of mid-western twang, that helps it to sneak up on you.

Her talent for storytelling is also on display, and not always in pleasant ways. The album’s opening track, “Same to You” is an emotionally nuanced but brutal depiction of a toxic and abusive relationship. “Bilbao” isn’t as dark as that, but it has plenty of toughness and self-loathing. The opening stanza sets the perfect mix of scene and character in four simple lines:

“You take a walk I’d rather be lonely than ashamed
Of all the girls who think they know your name
Us dirty Italians are all the same
No one but me knows you could never be replaced.”

Other times she lands just off for me, such as on “Clumps” which bemoans “love turns into lust and milk turns into clumps.” The tune is great, but the central metaphor seems forced. However, the rest of the song is good enough that you’ll forgive it.

As for the production, it is uneven. On “Bilbao” she finds a good middle ground between country and rock, with a simple guitar piece slowly growing into a bigger, broader sound without ever becoming busy. The effect is like the song itself; romantic, profound and a bit tawdry.

On “Heaven” things go wrong from the start, with an unfortunate and fuzzed out bassline. The arrangement goes off from there, flitting between R&B and dance club while feeling overall out of step with the structure and content of the song. It is like Loveless is experimenting with different ways to voice the song, but the overall effect drowns its impact.

I should note at this point that those production choices weren’t bad so much as they weren’t always to my taste. You might suggest that music criticism shouldn’t insert personal opinion into the mix, but a fundamental part of how we appreciate art is subjective. Anyone who says otherwise isn’t without bias, they’re just trying to hide it.

There are some great tracks on “Real” and Loveless’ vocal performance will definitely give you a case of angst and heartache that you’ll enjoy. And while I appreciated Loveless’ fearless willingness to paint outside the lines and try out different approaches, it also leaves the record stylistically uneven in places.

If you are wanted to give Lydia Loveless a chance, I would suggest listening to her 2020 masterpiece, “Daughter” first. Once you’ve got an ear for her brilliance, come back and enjoy “Real” as a lesser - but still worthy - entry in her catalogue.

Best tracks: Same to You, Longer, Midwestern Guys, Bilbao

CD Odyssey Disc 1420: She & Him

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey! This next record is a perfect fit for a rainy November day like today. It is good at other times as well.

Disc 1420 is…. Volume Two

Artist: She & Him

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover? A little girl with a half a face listens to a tin can on a string. You can’t see it, but a little boy (also with half a face) is on the back cover doing the same. It’s all very twee.

How I Came To Know It: I believe I read about these guys on some “best of” album lists. I can no longer remember where. Anyway, I read a lot of music reviews and “best of” lists. That and direct recommendations from people is how you discover when you don’t have any interest in the radio or randomly generated playlists (which I do not).

How It Stacks Up: I have two She & Him albums; this one and Volume 3 (reviewed back at Disc 1067) Of the two, this one wins out.

Ratings: 4 stars

Some music just makes you feel good in that carefree and easy way that you get from a romantic walk in the rain. Not a real walk in the rain, where you get water in your shoes and your glasses mist up. Nope – the kind of walk in the rain where everyone is wearing brightly coloured gum boots and umbrellas aren’t for keeping you dry so much as they’re props for spinning about in time to the music.

If that sounds a bit sugary and unrealistic, then it should. She & Him lives in a world of colour, light and wonderment. The whole experience would come off schmaltzy and saccharine if it weren’t for the fact that She & Him singer/songwriter Zooey Deschanel is so damned talented. These three-minute pop songs are like Fabergé eggs: tiny, ornate, and perfectly crafted.

Deschanel is only one half of She & Him (the ‘him’ is M. Ward, an indie pop starlet in his own right). However, the ‘she’ of the band is also the most important part. Deschanel’s voice is bright and cheerful, with a natural feel for the pocket. Her style is reminiscent of old school sixties pop tunes, innocent and full of bounce.

She has a natural joy to her delivery that is honest and reassuring, even when she’s telling a tale of heartache. On “Me and You” when Deschanel sings “You gotta be kind to yourself” it is like she’s giving you permission. And then you do and find yourself staring idiot-like into the middle distance at a traffic light. But it is a good idiot stare. For that moment you’re not lost, you’re just lost in the moment. When the walk symbol flashes, you’ll find yourself safely back, ready to twirl your umbrella and splash in some puddles.

Deschanel writes all but two of the songs, and she has a natural gift for a pop hook. Every single one is a toe-tapper, and like a good pop song they just get better as they become more familiar, as the ear begins to anticipate what’s coming next. Like the lyrics, the tunes are uncomplicated, but exactly what is needed to convey the emotion of the moment.

Two of the songs are covers of seventies tunes cuts I’d never heard before: “Ridin’ In My Car”by NRBQ and a disco song by Viola Wills called “Gonna Get Along Without You Now.” I checked out the originals and preferred the She & Him version both times. That said, the Viola Wills tune is a seriously groovy bit of disco and worth a listen in its own right. In the hands of Deschanel and M. Ward both tunes become whimsical little ditties.

Ordinarily I’d be complaining that the record lacks gravitas, but that isn’t true. For all the carefree fun on the surface, there is lots of homespun wisdom on “Volume Two” and emotional range as well. Because it is all buried in up tempo twee pop may not work for you, but I would say don’t knock it until you try it. The world is already full of plenty of doom and gloom. So as we descend into these days of early darkness and overcast skies, I suggest you be kind to yourself, and give this record a listen.

Best tracks: In the Sun, Don’t Look Back, Me and You, I’m Gonna Make it Better, Over It Over Again, Brand New Shoes