CD Odyssey Disc 1596: Trace Mountains

Second review this week, dear readers!

Despite the output, I am in a hypercritical mood of late, where it takes a lot more for an album to impress me, even albums I have previously hand-picked.

Disc 1596 is…. House of Confusion

Artist: Trace Mountains

Year of Release: 2021

What’s up with the Cover?  A roadside advertisement. This looks like the kind of lonely stretch of some backroad where the cell coverage is terrible, but if you blow a tire ask for help at the Valley Mart, not the House of Confusion. The folks who live at the House of Confusion are probably a bunch of serial killers. Of course, it will turn out they also own the Valley Mart, so you’re screwed either way.

Happy Halloween!

P.S.: that scrolly bit in the bottom left is not part of the album art – that’s one of my hairs that got in the picture.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of this album and checked it out, but I did not immediately buy it. I remember it being right on the edge of “good enough”. Then I was looking for something to order and it was on my list. I thought, “did I like this well enough to buy it?” and then I replied (thought-wise) with, “Logan, trust your instincts!”

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Trace Mountains album, so it can’t stack up

Ratings: 3 stars

My experience with “House of Confusion” had me thinking a lot of the name of the band. I imagine a “trace mountain” would be a place where you stake a gold claim because you get some early positive traces, but ultimately the mountain doesn’t pan out. “House of Confusion” is the musical equivalent of that experience. It starts off with a lot of promise but there ends up being less and less value as you dig your way in.

I’ve dabbled a few times in this kind of music, which is a sort of laid-back psychedelic indie country. Other examples are Honey Harper (Disc 1369) and Wild Pink (Sir Not Yet Appearing on this Blog). The structures are folk/country but the tunes tend to have a lot of extra production. Long-time readers will know this usually puts me off, but I’m willing to forgive it when done well.

So how does “House of Confusion” fare? Initially, very well. The first three songs are the album’s best. The opening track “Seen it Coming” showcases the airy quaver of Dave Benton’s voice (Dave Benton is Trace Mountains’ driving creative force and lead singer). This song has a lovely lilting melody that I’m always a sucker for, and the arrangement has a bit of odd organ here and there that is well placed and provides good dynamics.

“If You Do” and “On My Knees” follow it well, with Benton’s voice again front and centre, and with a bit more orchestration but again, serving the song well. “On My Knees” also has some lovely snare drum action that would make early Wilco proud.

By the fourth song, “7 Angels” Benton has delved even deeper into the soup and is approaching Wild Pink sound (although maybe one level down, as no one does this particular sound quite like Wild Pink). It, “The Moon” and “IDK” are all good tunes, despite the latter being an annoying texting abbreviation. Use your words, Dave!

Around Track 7 things start to go south, however. “The Late” is a melancholy soundscape that is both maudlin and directionless. I can handle maudlin, but directionless is harder to forgive. At this point Benton is deep into the electronica sounds, which don’t add anything nor cover up the fact that the melody here has lost some of the record’s early magic.

This is followed by “America” which has a weird sample of someone saying “America!” that is jarring and adds nothing to the song. This song hovers on the edge of being a good tune, but can’t overcome this kind of self-aware studio decisions.

There is a late rally near the end, and “Eyes on the Road” recaptures the album’s earlier magic, but it is too late to score above a modest three stars overall.

And before I sum up a quick note on a pet peeve of mine. The back of the record has a list of the songs but a) doesn’t list a track number, forcing you to count down to find the one you want and b) are presented in some artsy font that is almost impossible to discern. You are listing these tracks so people can look up the songs, Trace Mountains, so maybe make it actually easy for them to read when you do so.

My final listen to “House of Confusion” was on headphones, and its ambient vibe definitely sounds better in that experience than in the car. In the end, that and some of the early nuggets were enough for me to decide to keep the record

Best tracks: Seen It Coming, If You Do, On My Knees

CD Odyssey Disc 1595: Rico Nasty

After a very successful trip to the record store I am champing at the bit for a weekend where I can listen to all my new music. I like my first listen of a new album to be just me and Sheila, hanging out and playing board games. Then two or three more listens with just me and the record before I put it on the shelf and hope to roll it for a review.

Disc 1595 is…. Nightmare Vacation

Artist: Rico Nasty

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover?  The vacation depicted here doesn’t seem all bad. There’s a lovely rainbow and a floating bed is pretty great. However, flying about in one at high altitude with lightning forking all around you could turn nightmarish very quickly.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of this album, checked it out and liked it enough to buy it digitally on Bandcamp (I don’t believe it was released on CD).

How It Stacks Up: Rico Nasty has a bunch of mixtapes but only one full length album, and this is it. I don’t have any of the mixtapes (and the genre confuses me. Are these simply albums on cassette or is it a ‘length thing’ like an EP?). Anyway, I have the full length album but one album can’t stack up.

OK, I looked up “mixtape” and it sounds like something artists release free of charge, except when they don’t. Hmm… The modern world is so confusing.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

I like melodic rappers, dropping rhymes on funky beats that make your head bob or your backbone slide. Rico Nasty is none of those things, but through sheer force of talent and chutzpah she convinced me to try something a little different, at least for a while.

In this case, that something different is a rough-edged, aggressive rhymes in short, staccato statements, with heavy synth beats dressed up in samples that reminded me of nineties industrial metal. A bit of cursory research revealed this style to be something called “trap metal” but I think it is a misnomer. This is not metal, although it does deliver its fair share of crunch on certain tracks.

Whatever it is called, Rico Nasty knows how to do it well, and she attacks these songs with a stylized snarl. It is a good match for lyrics that tend to be in your face. Sometimes this takes the form of a beef with someone (usually for reasons that aren’t fully defined but seem very serious nonetheless). Other times, the tunes are about partying, drugs, or sex. So, you know, the usual.

Rico Nasty is also quite good at swearing. You might say to yourself, most modern rappers are good at swearing but trust me when I say that Rico Nasty raises it to an art form. Swears are both violently emphasized and thrown with a disdainful disregard that makes it clear she’s got a bottomless bag full of those F and B bombs.

For all that, after multiple listens I am already feeling a bit restless about her aforementioned flow and beat choices. On the flow front, she has solid couplets with clever turns of phrase, but she doesn’t string together the kind of intricate rhymes that I tend to favour in rap.

On the beat front, these beats feature lots of weird syncopation and soundscapes, but they aren’t toe tappers. Clever is welcome, but I also want tunes I can tap my foot to. These ones are a bit too ‘robot love’ or ‘nineties modem’ for my taste.

When it all comes together, as it does on a few tracks, I can overlook all that and enjoy the mastery of the style. Unfortunately, there are too few of these moments for me to keep this record in my collection. I like it, but it just wasn’t for me. I can imagine what Rico Nasty would say in response to that, but I don’t think it fit to print on a friendly blog like this one.

Best tracks: IPHONE, Pussy Poppin, Smack a Bitch

CD Odyssey Disc 1594: Linda Ronstadt

For the second straight review I find myself in love with an artist’s voice, but not always with the songs she chooses to sing with it.

Disc 1594 is…. Living in the USA

Artist: Linda Ronstadt

Year of Release: 1978

What’s up with the Cover?  Caught in the Crushing Hallway Trap, Linda desperately tries to hold the walls back. Our heroine is doubly disadvantaged in her struggle: first because it is hard to get good leverage on roller skates, and second because that 1978 perm job can really sap a girl’s confidence.

How I Came To Know It: This was just me recently giving Ronstadt’s discography an even deeper dive, and finding a few more gems in the process.

How It Stacks Up: My ever-growing Linda Ronstadt collection is now at six records (and I’m hunting for two more). Unfortunately, one of these has to be last, and “Living in the USA” is it. #6.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

Linda Ronstadt has one of those voices so sublime she could sing any song in any style. Of course, that doesn’t mean she should. “Living in the USA” is a bit of both experiences – a few gems, and some other songs that, for all their technical excellence, feel like square pegs in round holes.

The record begins with one of the latter, with her covering Chuck Berry’s “Back in the USA”. Can she sing it? Absolutely? Does she have a better voice than ole’ Chuck? You bet she does. But that doesn’t mean this song suits her vibe, and I found it a bit awkward. Similarly “Just One Look” feels a bit stilted, although I think it is just that I’m thoroughly done with that song: a weary fact well outside of Linda Ronstadt’s control.

At other times, Ronstadt falls into the old trap many great vocalists do, which is that you can tell she is very conscious of the fact that she is SINGING. You’ll see this a lot on singing competition programs, where having a great vocal is put in front of making the song emote. On “Living in the USA” we have a few such culprits, the worst being the old thirties classic “When I Grow Too Old to Dream” which ends with a powerhouse, “look at me” moment that felt like a pageant performance. And on “Ooh Baby Baby” she almost puts Smokey Robinson to shame with that high “ooh-ooh-ooh” hook, but for all its perfection, it just didn’t resonate with me. It didn’t help that the song was suffused with neo-eighties saxophone noodles.

Weirdly the saxophone flourishes didn’t bother me much at all on her cover of Elvis Costello’s “Alison”. Here they replace the guitar licks of the original, which is not the way I would have gone if I’d been in the studio. That said, any replacement of Costello’s affected warble with the artistry of Linda Ronstadt’s vocals is a welcome upgrade. Here, Ronstadt gives one of her best performances on the record, mixing that down to earth storyteller vibe she possesses, with the sweet power of her tone.

Also great is her cover of Warren Zevon’s “Mohammed’s Radio”. Something about covering Zevon makes Linda Ronstadt come alive. She just gets his songwriting, and this is one of her best. I could listen to Linda Ronstadt belt out this tune every day until I die and never tire of it. It is sheer brilliance.

My last favourite was also a cover, but this time it was a song I’d never heard before. Near the end of the record, we are treated to a cover of Bonnie Raitt’s “Blowing Away” (well, Eric Kaz wrote it, but you know what I mean). Like “When I Get Too Old to Dream” this song is a master class vocal performance, but here Ronstadt pours pure emotion into the performance. When that first step-down occurs in the melody, and Ronstadt sings “Love is blind, and it cannot find me” it will break your heart.

Despite some other tunes that are either poor matches for Linda Ronstadt’s vibe, or just feel like she’s trying too hard, the greatness of a few songs ended up being enough for me to keep this record in my collection.

Best tracks: Alison, Mohammed’s Radio, Blowing Away

CD Odyssey Disc 1593: Martina McBride

After a few days listening to Ghost this next review was a bit of a shock to the system.

Disc 1593 is…. Greatest Hits

Artist: Martina McBride

Year of Release: 2001 but featuring music from 1993-2001

What’s up with the Cover?  A very enthusiastic Martina McBride. This cover needs to turn the enthusiasm down about three notches, because that look on her face makes me feel like I’ve accidentally walked into one of those all-day timeshare seminars, or maybe a Tupperware party.

Side note, while this cover doesn’t fully show it, Martina McBride has the bluest eyes in musicdom. I’m talking Paul Newman-level awesome. Don’t take my word for it, though – just check out the video for “Whatever You Say” See what I mean? BLUE.

How I Came To Know It: Martina McBride is a pretty big deal in the mainstream country world, and for about ten years there she was hard to avoid. Over time, enough of her songs stuck in my head that when I saw this album available for dirt cheap at the local record store I decided to give it a go.

How It Stacks Up: Greatest hits records don’t stack up because they aren’t ‘real’ records, at least not as far as I see it. If you look up the best albums of all time on Rolling Stone magazine you’ll find they feel differently, but they are horribly wrong in both this, and many other things. Thank goodness you came here for your musical advice instead.

Ratings: Best of records don’t have ratings because they are not real records. Seriously, we just covered this.

Mainstream nineties country music is not typically my jam but every now and then someone comes along with a voice that makes me give it a second chance. Martina McBride has one of those voices, and while I don’t always like her song choices there’s no avoiding that she sings the hell out of them.

McBride’s Greatest Hits record has 19 tracks, which is a hell of a lot of something that is not your jam. The more so that I bought this because I really like two of her songs and decided to gamble I’d like enough of the other ones. Did this gamble pay off? Reader, it did not.

But lest I lead you wholly into despair, let’s start with the good stuff. “Independence Day” is a perfect song. Narratively it is brilliant, telling the story of a young girl with an abusive father, and the sacrifice mother makes to put an end to the situation. I won’t cheapen it by quoting the lyrics, I’ll just say that when McBride peels out that chorus it will cause you to throw your fist in the air in triumph, even as it causes a lump in your throat.

The other tune is not as objectively brilliant, but I love it all the same. “Whatever You Say” is bolstered by some sweet violin flourishes, but as songs go it is pretty by the book, with lyrics that will not surprise you. However, when McBride hits that chorus her voice blows the God damn doors off. I always want to sing along, but within a note or two it is painfully clear I can’t keep up. That’s OK, just mouth along silently and it will feel like you’ve got the voice of an angel.

As for the rest of the record, there are a whole lot of schmaltzy mid-nineties country songs with very obvious messages. McBride’s first hit, 1993’s “My Baby Loves Me” is a good example. It starts out with an almost “Born in the USA” vibe, but don’t let it fool you. You are about to be treated to a whole lot of vacuous rhyming couplets about how much her baby loves her. I admit this song is pop-country genius, with a hook that won’t be denied and an inoffensive running time of 2:34 which means its over before you start getting bored with all the rhymes (although only just). However, that doesn’t mean I need to hear it anywhere other than in the background while I’m grocery shopping.

“Happy Girl” is another bit of sugar pop that you will secretly enjoy, but it is empty calories, and the main thing that is happening is Martina McBride’s voice is fooling you into thinking it is worth your time.

In the end, I did find a couple of other tunes (“A Broken Wing” and “When God-Fearin’ Women Get the Blues”) that have lasting appeal. Both were hits and again I was reminded what a hit machine McBride was through the nineties. But despite McBride being one of the great vocalists in country music history, there were too few songs that inspired me in a sustained way.

Best tracks: Independence Day, A Broken Wing, Whatever You Say, When God-Fearin’ Women Get the Blues

CD Odyssey Disc 1592: Ghost

Driving home today my volume control got stuck on my car. Hopefully it is just a temporary glitch, but if not, at least it was turned up nice and high when it happened.

Disc 1592 is…. Impera

Artist: Ghost

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover?  In some cyclopean cathedral, a horde of Satan’s technicians work day and night to build a massive Papa Emeritus IV who will, no doubt, bring in a new era of darkness. A sort of “shipyard of terror” or something.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a Ghost fan for almost ten years but for whatever reason haven’t managed to roll any of their albums for review. Now it has been so long I can’t remember how I discovered them in the first place, but for “Impera” it is easy – I just bought their new album when it came out and hoped for the best.

How It Stacks Up: Including two EPs, I have seven Ghost albums, which is pretty much all of them. “Impera” lands at #4, or plumb in the middle.

Ratings: 4 stars

A few years ago I overheard a couple shopping in the metal section of the local record store. “How about ‘Ghost’?” asked the young woman making up half of the duo. Her young beau responded with a derisive, “Ghost isn’t metal.” I had a laugh under my breath, thinking that, despite his Comic Book Guy vibe, the guy was at least half right.

Ghost both is and is not metal. At their heaviest they have a definitive thump to them and are not strangers to a well-placed power chord. At the same time, they mostly occupy a space somewhere in anthemic hard rock, with a bit of artful harmony. The best equivalent I would say would be a latter-day Blue Oyster Cult, with the theatrical addition of Alice Cooper’s unknown progeny. Frequent readers will know this is high praise.

“Impera” is their latest album and after a much heavier foray on 2018’s “Prequelle” they opt for a lot more of the artful harmony side of things. These are songs that are meant for raising your arms in praise, with choruses that are catchy earworms; easy to remember, and inspiring to sing along with. The guitar is powerful, and the songs are buoyed by the clean streamlined production that I am an eternal sucker for.

Now, if you decide you want to do some singing along, you should know first that Ghost likes Satan, and they like him a lot. Songs like “Call Me Little Sunshine” are not about having a positive outlook on life, they are references to Lucifer. The lead singer is Papa Emeritus IV, with previous Papa Emerituses often being removed from the band for not being sufficiently Satanic.

At this point, lest I scare any with a timid heart, I should point out that the Satan thing is entirely an act (all the Papa Emerituses along the way are played by the same guy – the band’s principle songwriter and lead singer). I shall not name Papa, however, because Ghost is like professional wrestling; way more fun if you suspend your disbelief and just get into the theatre of it all.

That said, this band is a lot more than theatre. They make great music, and after a slight downturn with their previous record, on “Impera” they return to form. This album is chock full of anthemic glory. It isn’t the most creative thing the band has ever done (their early work has some serious prog elements) but it is so good at those soaring melodic structures that all its simplicity is not only forgiven but is cause for celebration. This is a record that will have you waving your lighter aloft by the second track, and not bring it down until the metal bit scalds you.

My favourite track on the record is “Call Me Little Sunshine” which combines a perfect guitar bit at the beginning with the heaviest thump on the album. This song will have you thinking of Ronnie James Dio at his Holy Diver heights.  Songs like “Hunter’s Moon” and “Watcher in the Sky” will also have you reminiscing of the glory days of eighties metal, mixed with the creepy dissonance of late seventies Blue Oyster Cult.  Ghost are masters at incorporating old school forms into their work and making it a celebration, rather than a heist.

This also makes “Impera” one of their most accessible albums and there is no sin in that. Sure earlier, weirder records like Meliora and Opus Eponymous are overall superior, but I found this latest entry in their catalogue an eminently enjoyable record to find yourself frozen on “loud” on an October drive home.

Best tracks: Kaisarion, Spillways, Just Call Me Little Sunshine, Hunter’s Moon, Watcher in the Sky, Darkness at the Heart of My Love

CD Odyssey Disc 1591: Garbage

It’s not a good sign when you are at the front of a long weekend and it still feels like there aren’t enough hours in the day, but here we are. I’m squeezing out an hour to review this next record. While I’ve enjoyed it, I’ve enjoyed it for over a week, and it is time to move on.

Disc 1591 is…. Beautiful Garbage

Artist: Garbage

Year of Release: 2001

What’s up with the Cover?  A rose in the centre of what looks like a computer-generated assortment of geometric shapes. At least I hope this is computer generated, because if it isn’t it means a human did this on purpose.

How I Came To Know It: This album came out back when music videos were still a thing you watched on TV. I think I saw videos for a couple of these songs and both Sheila and I liked them. I probably bought this for her as a birthday or Christmas gift but given it has been over twenty years my memory is a bit hazy.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Garbage albums (they have seven, but the three I have are plenty for me at this point). This is my last review of those three. I had saved a spot for, “Beautiful Garbage” at #2, but it outperformed my expectations and I’m going to land it at #1. Here is the revised and complete recap:

1. Beautiful Garbage: 3 stars (reviewed right here)
2. Self-Titled: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 1374)
3. No Gods No Masters: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 1504)

 Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“Beautiful Garbage” is one of those rare albums that has all the failings of early oughts production but uses them so artfully they become an asset.

Music from the early oughts can be a tough slog. Music producers were in love with loud, turning up all the channels all at once to the point where it feels like the music is shouting at you. There was also a fascination with mixing electronic sounds into rock music which could sound very forced and artificial when mishandled.

That ‘loud’ element is ever-present on “Beautiful Garbage” – I played it at about three ticks lower in the car just to hold it at arm’s length - but somehow it feels festive and powerful rather than annoying. There is a kind of electronic crunch when this kind of production is done right that makes everything feel melodramatic, but in a good way. It kind of made me feel like I was in an extended episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer; angsty but heroic.

The record opens with “Shut Your Mouth” which has all of this sound in spades. There is a heavy effect on lead singer Shirley Manson’s vocals that makes them metallic and Matrixy, and the guitars are fuzzed out to the edge of reason. It all works great, however, and the song feels powerful. It is the musical equivalent of a very thick and delicious strawberry milkshake; delicious and sweet but a bit hard to get up the straw.

I was surprised to find that this record only spawned one Top 20 hit. That’s the album’s second track, “Androgyny” which landed at #19 in Canada. This song is an anthem to gender fluidity and acceptance, and in 2001 delightfully ahead of its time. It also has a cool groove to it, and despite throwing every mixing board trick at the wall like spaghetti, the resulting pattern ends up once again working.

“Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go)” is a sugary pop tune that is vacuous and silly and wholly enjoyable to bounce along to even after all these years.

While those are the songs I remember from back in the day, on this listen I was struck by some of the album’s subtler offerings. “Can’t Cry These Tears” sounds like a sixties Supremes tune, albeit gussied up with that early-oughts production. “Cup of Coffee” and “Drive You Home” both showcase the gentle side of Manson’s voice, the former being a melancholy break up, and the latter an undulating tune for lovers yearning for one another late at night.

If I were to read a review of “Beautiful Garbage” today, it would be full of all kinds of warnings to stay away – the overblown production, the flourishes of electronica, and the melodramatic topics. However, it not only overcomes these elements, it converts them from bugs into features. I’d been away for a good ten years and had forgotten how much I used to like this album. Rediscovering it was a lovely treat during an otherwise busy week.

Best tracks: Shut Your Mouth, Adrogyny, Cup of Coffee, Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go), Drive You Home