Wednesday, April 28, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1469: Jill Andrews

Welcome back, gentle reader! If you are an email subscriber you should know that Blogspot is cancelling that service, so you might want to just save me to your favourites.

Disc 1469 is…. Thirties

Artist: Jill Andrews

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover?  Jill Andrews dances with a shadow.  Based on the outfit, I’m going to say this dance takes place at a summer wedding. Or maybe she’s dancing with the memory of a guy she met at a wedding but that didn’t work out in the long run – and all that’s left are shadows. That latter theory makes sense given some of the songs.

How I Came To Know It: I can’t remember. I may have read about her in American Songwriter magazine (which I buy infrequently), but I can’t remember now. Anyway, whatever initially led me there, I checked out the record and liked what I heard, so here we are.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Jill Andrews album, so it can’t really stack up. I’m on the hunt for two others but they are proving devilishly hard to find.

Ratings: 4 stars

Jill Andrews’ music lives in that triangle of creative real estate bounded by country, folk and pop. On “Thirties” you’ll get radio-friendly ditties, country anthems and acoustic guitar mood pieces.

“Sorry Now” starts the album off with light and precisely plucked guitar notes. It is a heart-breaking number about that moment just after love is gone, when the realization sets in that it’s too late for apologies. It features Andrews’ voice at her best, starting with a dusty whisper that climbs up quickly into something sweet and full. She sounds like a cross between Sarah Jarosz and Lera Lynn. This is a compliment, although I expect many of you will wish I’d used more famous examples. Just go check all three of them out on Youtube. Not to prove me right or wrong, but so you can enjoy some good music. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

Back, are we? Good stuff, let’s get back to “Thirties.” This record has a melancholic sway to it that draws you in, makes you feel a little vulnerable, and then gives you a reassuring hug, all delivered in tight little three to four minute compositions. Many of the tunes suggest an inevitability to heartbreak and loss, but tunes like “The Party” also make it clear our protagonist is railing against the fading of the light and songs that show that while she may not be fully ready to rejoin the world, she’s at least ready to try.

The production is slick to the point of sometimes being a bit too slick in places. However, the choices Andrews makes fit the songs well. If I wanted a bit less pop and a bit more folk, that’s on me, not the quality of the tunes. Don’t expect a lot of surprises, but she can make a new song sound familiar very quickly, which is a core quality of a good pop song.

This natural talent for hooks and melodies, plus some simple but effective back beats can quickly lead you to downright guilty pleasures on her most pop-heavy tunes. “Gimme the Beat Back” and “Back Together” are both toe tappers and maybe even finger snappers, for those feeling particularly jaunty.

Back Together” has an anthemic chorus that makes it perfect for rushing the dance floor and fist pumps with friends on a “finally kicked his ass out” ladies’ night celebration. This song doesn’t break any new ground but damn it, it is fun to sing along.

Fun fact: Jill Andrews wrote and sang “Tell That Devil, which is the awesome theme song for the TV show, “Wynonna Earp.” I faithfully watched Wynonna Earp for three years, before skipping the fourth and final season. I’m usually more of a completionist but hey, as evidenced by many songs on “Thirties,” break ups sometimes happen. Sorry, Wynonna.

Less fun fact: "Tell That Devil" is released as a single only, so not on this record.

Not at all fun fact, “Thirties” is another nail in the coffin that is compact disc collecting. The CD packaging for this album is just a single cardboard sleeve so slim as to have no spine. That means after you file it in the stacks, you can’t see what it is. I have a few of these, and all of them are too big to slide into a plastic jewel case without destroying them. I realize this is better than not releasing it on CD at all but c’mon, artists – throw a Gen Xer a bone. You know we’re the ones who are going to buy this stuff from your merch table once concerts start up again.

Despite my love for this record, I suspect “Thirties” may be too smooth for folkies and too folksy for those who prefer pop. However, if you are OK with well-constructed songs that land somewhere in the middle, then you might just like what she has to offer.

Best tracks: Sorry Now, Forces, The Party, Call It Even, Back Together

Saturday, April 24, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1468: St.Vincent

Welcome back, gentle readers! A reminder to please continue to do your part to bend the pandemic curve, because I am way past done with drinking and dining outside.

Disc 1468 is…. Marry Me

Artist: St. Vincent

Year of Release: 2007

What’s up with the Cover?  St. Vincent (aka Annie Clark) stares straight at us. Is she inviting us to listen to her record, or daring us?

How I Came To Know It: I didn’t initially love this record, but later St. Vincent albums were so good, I gave her earlier work a second chance. I found it better than I remembered and so here we are.

How It Stacks Up: I plan to buy St. Vincent’s new album “Daddy’s Home” when it comes out in mid-May, but as of right now I have a total of six of her records. Of those six, I put “Marry Me” in at…#6. Something has to be last.

Ratings: 3 stars

St. Vincent has gotten progressively better on every record she’s released. Given this, it shouldn’t surprise that her first record, “Marry Me,” isn’t 100% there for me. That said, even a lesser St. Vincent album still has a lot to offer.

St. Vincent changes up her sound a lot from record to record, challenging her fans to follow where she leads. Most records will include a combination of rock guitar, pop hooks, artful noise, and jazz, in different measures depending on where she’s at in her career. Pile it all together and you get the kind of music that gives Windows Media Player an aneurism in setting the genre column. In these moments, it usually goes with one of the big three “what the hell does that mean?” designations: “indie”, “alternative” or my personal favourite “miscellaneous”. For “Marry Me” it went for “alternative”. Sure.

In this case, “alternative” means a heavier focus on the art of noise elements and a larger dose of jazz in both the arrangements and the melodic structures. Vocally, this draws out some amazing performances from Clark, who’s singing is sometimes not given the attention it deserves, simply because critics focus heavily on just how innovative the music is.

On “Marry Me” her vocals are as good as anywhere in her career, with a rich, pure tone that stays full through her entire register. The jazz qualities on the record, bring out her inner cabaret singer as well, and at various moments it feels like she channels Billie Holiday, Vera Lynn and even Liza Minelli. For a record that is so thoroughly modern, Clark sings with a timeless and classic grace.

Armed with this voice, she sets to pulling disparate sounds together to make a kind of music few could pull off. “The Apocalypse Song” is a strong example, featuring a sublime vocal, matched with violin bits that feel pulled out of an old classical tune, guitars holding down the rhythm and a bridge composed largely of syncopated hand claps and guitar growls that are so reverbed out they sound like feedback. This shit should not work, but it does.

What holds the record back is nothing more than my long-standing animus to jazz. Mid-song shifts within the structure of “Landmines” left me wishing she’d stick with one, or even two musical notions instead of cramming three or four into a song. It is hard to criticize, since it is also what makes St. Vincent great, but from time to time it goes places I don’t want to follow.

Similarly, the meandering piano on “We Put a Pearl in the Ground” is the wrong side of that classic sound. This tune feels at home as the soundtrack of a forlorn “found love by the lakeside but then lost it” seventies romantic tear-jerker. I’m more of a romantic comedy kind of guy.

For the most part, though, I am happy to have St. Vincent walk me through these complex compositions. On “Your Lips Are Red” she mixes some of the best guitar ever into an overblown Queen-esque number, and then sneaks some jazz piano in, but I loved every minute of it.

Many St. Vincent fans will no doubt claim “Marry Me” is her best record. While those fans are wrong, there is more than enough good stuff on the record that they don’t need to be embarrassed of their opinion.

Best tracks: Now Now, Your Lips Are Red, Marry Me, The Apocalypse Song

Tuesday, April 20, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1467: The Honey Dewdrops

This is my second straight review where the album title begins with “If.” In commemoration of this coincidence, I will try to fill the next minute with 60 seconds worth of metaphorical distance run.

Disc 1467 is…. If The Sun Will Shine

Artist: The Honey Dewdrops

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover?  Some kind of painting or maybe fabric work? I’m not a big fan, as this feels “crafty” but not in a “just my type” kind of way. I would have preferred they had just stuck to an awkward photo of the band, as is tradition for a folk record.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan of the Honey Dewdrops from other records, so this was just me digging through their back catalogue on Bandcamp. This one was no longer available in CD format, so I waited around for a few months staring at my shoes. Eventually, I relented and bought it as a download.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Honey Dewdrops albums. Of those three, I rank “If the Sun Will Shine” at #3. And since this is the last album of theirs in my collection, here’s the full accounting:

  1. Tangled Country: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 1405)
  2. Silver Lining: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1288)
  3. If the Sun Will Shine: 3 stars (reviewed right here)

 Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Real folksy, friends. I mean, downright. That’s the Honey Dewdrops, the bluegrass duo of Laura Wortman and Kagey Parrish, and “If the Sun Will Shine” is them at their most traditional.

If you came here because you liked Taylor Swift’s last couple of albums and wanted more of that, you will be disappointed. Taylor Swift’s last couple of indie folk records were excellent (I love both of them) but that’s not this.

However, if you have a hankering for variations on 1-4-5 chord progressions and instruments played with heart and precision, then this record is for you. Because Wortman and Parrish can really play. As in, “make your heart sing and your eyes tear up” kind of play. The guitar work on the record is particularly stellar (they both play guitar, so without the aid of liner notes, I have no idea who to praise).

Also noteworthy is the sublime mandolin soloing on “1918” (again, no idea who to credit). “1918” is instrumental that captures what it must have felt like when the war ended in 1918. Hearing the song evoked images of soldiers dancing around with their brothers in arms when the armistice is announced, tearful wives racing down long dirt roads, throwing themselves into the arms of their lovers while they’re still unloading their rucksack from the bus. It is the most joyous expression of “home at last” that you’ll ever hear, and it is all over in a sublime 90 seconds, leaving you wanting more.

Laura Wortman’s singing is beautiful as ever. The duo always create beautiful harmonies, but on “If the Sun Will Shine” Wortman’s vocals feel a bit more prominent than on later records I’ve heard. Parrish is happy to help paint around the edges, adding depth and echo.

The production on the record is so sparse as to be almost non-existent. In other words, how I like it. You might as well just hang a mic from the middle of the ceiling and let the two of them get after it. In terms of songwriting, the Honey Dewdrops do what you’re supposed to do in the genre; find new and beautiful stories in some well-established structures, and make a little timeless of your own.

“If the Sun Will Shine” is early in the band’s work and feels raw in places. I like the nuance they manage on later albums, but there is a real homespun quality in this early stuff that also appeals. These are tunes that sound best when heard in the open air, cascading down some wild and remote mountains, right before some of the locals invite you over for some afternoon lemonade on the porch.

But just to remind you, these tunes are very traditional. The kind of thing the Carter Family might break out, only with better sound and stereo production. If you like old school bluegrass like I do, then this is your glass of lemonade.  If not, I’d still encourage you to give it a try anyway. If it’s not to your liking, I’ve got a sidebar full of music just to the right you can still choose from.

Best tracks: Bluest Blue Eyes, Wandering Boy, 1918, Nowhere to Stand, When Was the War

Saturday, April 17, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1466: Anna St. Louis

This next album was on my top 10 albums list from 2018 until the following November, when I bumped it. There is no shame in that – it just means it now goes to 11. Spinal Tap would be proud.

Disc 1466 is…. If Only There Was a River

Artist: Anna St. Louis

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover?  Anna standing in some lightly wooded area. It looks like she’s looking down on you. Maybe she’s thinking “If only there was a river, I could’ve weighted you down with rocks, but instead I’ll have to settle for rolling you into this dry gulch.”

Or she could just be out for a stroll in the woods.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review and checked out her video for “Understand”. I liked it and so…here we are.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Anna St. Louis album. I think this might be her only full length LP, so at least I’m not missing out on another one. Anyway, since I only have the one, it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

Anna St. Louis’ “If Only There Was a River” has a free and easy mosey. It feels like an old folk record from the sixties you might find in a thrift store, or something you might hear on the wind blowing in from a neighbouring campsite. Something from an older and more innocent time, but with a hint of haunting.

Stylistically, St. Louis is solidly in the contemporary folk movement, with a heavy dose of tradition. Not in the chord progression so much, as in the mood of the record. She reminded me favourably of Emily Barker, both in terms of the timbre and delivery. It is part sugar, part spiderwebs.

St. Louis isn’t a belter, but she has a resonance in her lower register that really tickled my fancy. Sometimes she puts that rounded curl around pronunciation that has long been my bane, but she usually pulls out of it before it reads as affected.

She is also the principal guitar on the record, and her playing style matches well with her vocals. She plays simple plucking patterns or strums with a deliberate pacing, and both feel open and honest. There is lots of tone in every note, usually on songs that lets those notes vibrate and hang in space. There is even a very traditional instrumental (“Daisy”) where she shows off her skill. Simple songs like “Daisy” only work when they are played with great feeling and skill, and St. Louis is up to the challenge. She tags on a few lyrics a capella at the end, where I would’ve given the guitar all the space, but it doesn’t disrupt the peaceful and contemplative mood the song puts you in.

As for subject matter, the songs feel both personal and philosophical, but I often found my mind wandering and just letting the tone of her voice and guitar let me float away. Sometimes only guitar accompanies her, and sometimes there are low bass notes rumbling below (which even put a bit of vibration in the car at high volumes – yes I sometimes crank my folk music…).

On “Desert” this deep base gives you a sense of a vast and overwhelming backdrop (both scenic and emotional). On “Hello” she brings in violin onto a lilting waltz that will make you want to two-step around a wooden dance floor with your sweetheart.

While contemporary, you can tell St. Louis is a student of musical history.  On “Desert” she pays direct homage to Johnny Cash, dropping a “nobody knows, nobody sees” line that is pulled in tune and delivery straight from “Long Black Veil”. On my previous review, Corb Lund grabbed a line from the old Marty Robbin’s tune “The Master’s Call” with “when I was but a young man, I was wild and full of fire.” It is great to see generations of musicians continuing to hearken back to the greats that came before.

St. Louis also delves into modern constructions. On “Freedom” she relies on a drum and bass backdrop to create a spooky echo, delivering some of her strongest vocals on the record, following a bright and celebratory peel of “Oh, you’re right on my heels” with a low and spooky “and the sun’s in my eyes.” Gorgeous stuff.

I had an opportunity to review this album a couple days ago, but the more I listened to it the more I enjoyed the experience, so I kept it as my playlist a little longer. I wish there were more Anna St. Louis albums out there (I have found none) and I look forward to what she does next.

Best tracks: Understand, Paradise, Daisy, Desert, Hello, Freedom

Tuesday, April 13, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1465: Corb Lund

The weather has finally warmed up and I took my convertible roof down and drove home from work in the early evening sun. It was downright therapeutic.

Disc 1465 is…. Agricultural Tragic

Artist: Corb Lund

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover?  A man and his horse have a moment of alarm. Whatever is happening, it looks awkward for both of them.

How I Came To Know It: Just me buying the latest Corb Lund and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have nine Corb Lund records. Of those, I put “Agricultural Tragic” in at #9. Hey, someone’s gotta be last.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Agricultural Tragic” is proof you can have too much of a good thing. All the things that make Corb Lund so good – his clever lyrics, old school Country and Western sound and good ole boy “home on the range” persona has made for some amazing records over the past twenty-five years. Much of what makes him so good is present on this record as well, and there is plenty to recommend it as a worthy entry in his canon.

However, despite my burning desire for Corb to one day read my blog and invite me out for beers and whiskey, there are moments on “Agricultural Tragic” where he crosses that subtle, invisible line into kitsch and caricature. The album is still good, but I’d be lying if I didn’t note it is a slight step down.

The record starts strong. “90 Seconds of Your Time” is the most musically interesting song on the record, displaying Lund’s talent for swaying in the pocket of a catchy melody, dropping lyrics that are jaunty on the surface, with painful subjects lurking just underneath. In this case, we have an Army Ranger living in the hills stealing livestock, as he struggles to adjust to civilian life.

In a similar vein, “Louis L’Amour” hearkens back to the days when old westerns had the heroes in white hats, and the villains in black hats, while reflecting on the more complicated problems of the modern age. The problems of urban decay and drug abuse are well presented in the song’s final stanza, and an example of what makes Lund so good at what he does.

The record is Lund’s kitschiest, and a lot of the songs are the kind that are most fun the first time you hear them, when the jokes are new. I found these songs worked best in proportion to how much I liked the topics. “Rat Patrol” uses a rockabilly beat to immortalize Alberta’s famed accomplishment of being one of only a handful of places on the planet that are rat free. Yes, there are no rats in Alberta. Zero. Look it up.

Tattoo Blues” is a mostly spoken word list of the many errors that can happen when a tattoo goes wrong. Many a fine line in here, including: “My tattoos are blue, I got the tattoos blues/But hey, I got no regerts.” As someone who has long considered a “no rugrats” tattoo this one gave me an extra chuckle.

And the best tune on the album, is “Grizzly Bear Blues” which made me think of Stephen Herrero’s excellent book “Bear Attacks: Their Cause and Avoidance,” which is a comprehensive exploration of its topic that should absolutely NOT be read before you go camping. Best line from Lund’s tune:

“Should I run or should I stand? It’s an old debate
'cause sometimes it’s a bluff charge, and then sometimes it ain’t.
Can they run downhill? Can they climb a tree?
Maybe that’s just black bears, I can’t remember, hmmm let’s see.”

Great stuff. Where I grew up you only ran into black bears, although it did happen often. I'd sometimes miss the school bus waiting for them to wander off the road so I could pass.

However, while these songs are solid, there are times when the rhymes feel tacked on rather than fun. Also, many of the songs have a heavy literalism that could benefit from a well-placed metaphor or stronger emotional underpinning. Finally, the songs can sometimes feel like one-dimensional delivery systems for Lund’s storytelling compared to other work, where the song structure has a bigger role in setting the mood.

It is worth noting, however, that my least favourite of nine Corb Lund albums still warrants 3 stars. While I wouldn’t start here if you are just beginning to explore his body of work, “Agricultural Tragic” is still a good record in its own right.

Best tracks: 90 Seconds of Your Time, Grizzly Bear Blues, Louis L’Amour, Rat Patrol

Saturday, April 10, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1464: Rammstein

I’m a little foggy this morning after one too many Kraken and cokes last night. Clearly the answer is to start my day blasting some industrial metal.

Disc 1464 is…. Self-Titled

Artist: Rammstein

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover?  Rammstein live shows have a penchant for a lot of intense pyro, making this album cover a perfect…match.

Get it? Get it? I kill myself…

How I Came To Know It: Like most people, I know Rammstein originally through their appearance on the “Matrix” soundtrack with “Du Hast”. Since then they’ve drifted in and out of my life, but the flame has been kept alive by my buddy Nick, who is a big fan.

When this album was released, I gave it a try and decided it was finally time to take the plunge into their discography.

How It Stacks Up: Not much of a plunge so far. Rammstein has seven studio albums but this is the only one I own. I keep meaning to check out the rest of their discography, but haven’t done much so far beyond pawing through their albums at the record store wondering which one I should get next, then leaving empty-handed. All of which is a meandering way to note…it can’t stack up. On to the review…

Ratings: 4 stars

Remember that cool early nineties industrial metal sound? Ever wish people were still making music like that? Well, get your head out of your…radio, and stop letting your streaming service decide what you want to hear based on whatever the hell you decided to put on that first playlist you made five years ago. Rammstein has been out there this whole time waiting for you to return to the fold.

Rammstein’s career has spanned twenty-five years, all of them with the same lineup. Their latest effort (their seventh, and therefore inappropriately self-titled) maintains the high standards that have given them such incredible staying power.

The churning riffs are tailor-made for claiming a place on a crowded dance floor and tossing your hair around wildly until you throw your neck out. You may also wish to shove someone, but only if it is consensual (which, in a Rammstein mosh-pit, is often the case).

The album starts strong with “Deutschland,” a masterpiece in the genre featuring the mix of electronica and guitar that makes this kind of music work. It also shows off lead singer Till Lindemann’s vocals, which are deep and resonant. Lindemann sounds like the prophet of some dark cult, preaching from a pulpit of rock and roll. This, plus the church-like chants here and throughout the record (particularly awesome on “Zeig Dich”) give the record a Gothic quality that reminded me favourably of Ghost.

As for what Lindemann is preaching, I have no idea – Rammstein sings all their songs in their native German. I’ve become spoiled with my European power metal. Finnish band Nightwish sings in English, and Swedish band Sabaton does the same. Rammstein has the audacity to sing in their own language! I don’t fault them for this, but the result is I have no idea what the hell they are talking about. My best guesses are that "Radio" is about the radio and "Tattoo" may involve...a tattoo? I could have looked it up, but in the end I prefer not knowing and imagining something dark and apocalyptic for the others.

The album starts out with a barrage of fast-paced power, Lindemann soaring over it all while talking about Something Important. On Side Two (for those listening on vinyl) they strip things down a bit, with a lot more stripped down “ballads,” comparatively speaking. Sometimes these songs “anger up” partway through (“Puppe”, “Was Ich Liebe”) and sometimes they just stay slow and menacing throughout, like a heavy metal Nick Cave (“Diamant”). Either way, they draw you in with their inherent grandiosity.

One minor pet peeve on this record is the shape of the CD case, which is overly tall and awkward. Rammstein is not alone in doing this (I’m looking at you Jason Isbell) but I find it annoying when I’m looking at my CD collection. It just feels…untidy.

I intended to give this record 3 stars, but on successive listens I fell more and more under Rammstein’s spell. It has inspired me to once again attempt a dive into their back catalogue. I’ll let you know how that goes, of course, since that’s what I do here.

Best tracks: Deutschland, Zeig Dich, Auslander, Was Ich Liebe,Tattoo

Wednesday, April 7, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1463: Samia

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. This next artist got a lot of critical love last year as a newcomer. I liked her too; she’s an up-and-comer that I expect has staying power.

Disc 1463 is…. The Baby

Artist: Samia

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover?  It’s a Big Head Cover featuring Samia herself. For younger readers that weirdly shaped red thing that Samia is holding up to her face is called a telephone. That is what they used to look like, and despite this photo they are not suited to a walk in the woods unless you have a very long cord.

The fact that it is a red one either means Samia is being fashionable, or she’s got Vladimir Putin on the phone and she’s trying to forestall a nuclear exchange. For all our sakes, I hope it is just a fashion statement.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of this record last year and decided to give it a chance. I liked what I heard.

How It Stacks Up: This is Samia’s only album so far, so I couldn’t stack it up even if I wanted to. Ask me in a couple of years.

Ratings: 3 stars

Samia’s debut album “The Baby” is thoroughly enjoyable modern pop music. While it doesn’t break a lot of new ground, she does deliver some solid indie vibes and songs that are equally good for a joyful summer drive or a melancholy autumn walk.

Samia is only twenty and it is her first record, but she sings these tunes with a self-assurance that belies her years. This lush version of indie pop has many artists who warble their notes around like they have a mouth of marbles, or curl words in cute ways that serve only to make them hard to understand. Samia trusts in her skill. She sings it out and trusts that her voice is strong enough to carry the day without any affectation.

Fortunately, she’s got a strong voice. She’s not a belter, but rather a pop singer with a natural sweetness. Her head voice is particularly poignant, and she climbs in and out of falsetto smooth as silk. With all these new pop radio stars trying to be “different” and butchering melodies in the attempt, it was refreshing to hear an artist just sing.

Samia also has plenty of honesty in the tunes. Some of the tunes are tinged with sadness, or sitting on icebergs of doubt, but she embraces that doubt in a way that draws you deeper into the experience. The lyrics aren't Leonard Cohen-level, but they feel real and paint a picture in your mind. Combined with her delivery, it works.

This is Samia’s first album, and you can feel her experimenting with various sounds. “Fit ‘n’ Full” has a rock edge, “Does Not Heal” has a folk feel with its confessional delivery and acoustic guitar picking patterns, and “Big Wheel” has a radio friendly pop sound. Despite all the experimentation I always heard “pop” even when Samia is working the other sides of her sound. I didn’t mind though – it was good pop, and the other influences give the album range and interest.

The album ends on a high point, with “Something in the Movies,” a tune with a light strum of guitar, a bit of overdub (pop rearing its head) and Samia demonstrating both her fragile and beautiful falsetto right alongside big bold anthemic power moments.

At just 36 minutes, “The Baby” is compact and the songs, while averaging three or four minutes each, tend to have two or three concepts that are well blended. Samia wrote them all and shows a strong talent for that side of the creative process. I’m looking forward to what she does from here.

Best tracks: Big Wheel, Stellate, Triptych, Waverly, Is There Something in the Movies?

Friday, April 2, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1462: Alex Cameron

I’m a little run down after a lot of late days at work, so this long weekend couldn’t have come at a better time.

Disc 1462 is…. Miami Memory

Artist: Alex Cameron

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover?  Having been rejected a table at the local Appleby’s for having no shirt and (we assume) no shoes, Alex has returned to his room to stare wistfully off into space. While the particular expression on his face could mean a lot of things, I’m glad we can’t see his hands.

Behind Alex one of my least favourite art forms – the collage – treats us to a panoply of images that presumably represent memories.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review on Paste Magazine and it sounded interesting, so I checked it out. Often you gotta put in your own legwork to find new artists.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Alex Cameron album, so it can’t really stack up. However, I was so inspired by it I went through his back catalogue this week and I’m now on the hunt for two more, so a stack shall soon form.

Ratings: 4 stars

Every writer strives for complete openness and emotional vulnerability. Many claim it with the carefree nonchalance of the pass-card that comes with an office job. However, take it from someone who falls short again and again, the depth of vulnerability required to be a great writer takes a lot of fortitude; something Alex Cameron has to spare. He also has a natural talent for storytelling and writing pop hooks. Put it all together and you get an amazing record.

Cameron started out using a lot of synthesizer and electronic sounds, and on each successive album he’s drifted more and more into the organic. “Miami Memory” is his third and most recent effort, and while it is still driven a lot by piano and organ, the production feels the most ‘real’ of anything he’s done to date.

It’s stories also feel more intimate and introspective than ever before. The tunes are still upbeat, with melodies that float along effortlessly. At times they even have a dance pop feel, but they are grounded in stories that blend autobiographical content with fiction to the point where I wasn’t sure which stories were about Cameron, and which were about characters he’d created. In the end, it didn’t matter.

Stepdad” recounts a painful conversation a man is having with his stepchild, as he packs his bags at the end of a relationship. With the pain of a nasty breakup lurking in the background, the man tries to leave some good advice before he’s gone:

And now that you know why I'm leavin'
And your mum's yelling out that she hopes I don't come back
Of course she would say that

“Don't forget what I told you about your demons
They're just thoughts in your head while you sleep no more than that
Now fetch my duffle bag”

The man’s eventual advice to his step-kid is “treat your mom better”. The song is the most “synthy” on the record, with a simple organ call-and-answer bit that invites you to dance, even as Cameron’s words navigate one of life’s toughest moments.

On “Divorce” Cameron explores breakup from the more traditional perspective. Here the artificial organ is replaced by a more natural piano. The narrator dares his partner to call it quits, but with lines like:

“I got friends in Kansas City with a motherfucking futon couch
If that's how you want to play it
I'm drinking in the dark because my battery's all ran out
All you got to do is say it – Divorce.”

It is clear the dare is already a foregone conclusion. As divorce songs go, this one is up there in the stratosphere with Liz Phair’s “Divorce Song”.

The album is incredibly sex positive. The title track is one of the most beautiful love songs in pop music. Alternating between sexually explicit scenes and just the joy in sharing time and experience with your partner, this is a tune that takes the often tired structure of a love song to a new level.

On “Far From Born Again,” Cameron defends sex workers, making it clear how a woman makes a living – or uses her body – is exactly no one’s business but her own. Amen. The song also features an incredible pop hook, and some first-rate phrasing.

Speaking of great phrasing, remember “The Boys Are Back in Town”? I couldn’t get it out of my head while listening to Cameron’s artful rebuttal, “Bad for the Boys” which (I believe) has both a title and composition deliberately designed to evoke the Thin Lizzy tune. Cameron talks about how tough it is on all those bros out there bemoaning how they have to watch how they act and behave these days. No harassing women, no saying whatever the hell they want and even drops one line reminiscent of Springsteen’s “Glory Days”:

“Handsome Cory and his high school glory
No one wants to hear those fucking stories.”

By the end he confirms what you’ve been suspecting all along: he doesn’t feel bad for boys like this at all. The record is full of non-PC imagery and discussions on difficult topics but Cameron’s message to these boys is pretty clear: “Grow the fuck up and be accountable for your behaviour.” A fine reminder for every group of boys who have ever hit the bars for a night on the town, ever.

“Miami Memory” is an album I knew I liked, but I had no idea how much until I took the deep delve the CD Odyssey demands. Given his upward trajectory, I can’t wait to hear what he comes out with next.

Best tracks: Stepdad, Miami Memory, Far From Born Again, Bad for the Boys, End is Nigh, Divorce