CD Odyssey Disc 1663: Jason Isbell

Sheila is away and I’m having a weekend living like a bachelor. It doesn’t happen very often and feels weird. When I’m in front of the TV I’m always looking over at the other couch expecting to see her there. Which may be just as well, because she’d be telling me to turn off all the World War Two documentaries I’ve been watching.

All the same, I miss her and will be glad when she’s back tonight.

Disc 1663 is…Sirens of the Ditch

Artist: Jason Isbell

Year of Release: 2007

What’s up with the Cover?  “OK, son, you can drive the truck but only on the farm property, not on the road. You’re only 15 and I don’t want you gettin’ a ticket.”

How I Came To Know It: I have been a Jason Isbell fan for years, but I must have overlooked this record in my journey through his back catalogue.

Then a couple weeks ago I was in the record store buying his newest record, “Weathervanes” and saw “Sirens of the Ditch” in there with it. I didn’t recognize it so I took a chance and brought it home too.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Jason Isbell albums (I’m still missing his 2009 eponymous release, and I got rid of 2021’s “Georgia Blue” because…I didn’t like it. So, of the albums I do have (again, seven), I rank “Sirens of the Ditch” fifth.

Rating: 3 stars

“Sirens of the Ditch” is Isbell’s first album after leaving the Drive By Truckers. Isbell’s solo work would later soften out at the edges, but here it is still guitar forward as he explores the newfound freedom of having a whole record to himself.

The record starts off with the energetic, “Brand New Kind of Actress” which is a rollicking good tune. I’m not sure what the plot of the tune is, but it is some kind of Craig Finn style exploration of lowlifes. I think.

The record’s best tune is “Dress Blues” which is about a young man who dies in some overseas war. Based on the references to sand and the release date of the record, I’ll say it is Iraq. This tune has that gentle, plaintive cry in Isbell’s vocal that becomes much more common on later records. It’s a hurt-filled tragic tune, and Isbell delivers it with just the right mix of reverence and grief.

“Hurricanes and Hand Grenades” is one of the tunes that hold the record back a bit. It comes off as an unfinished blues noodles, and more about Isbell showcasing his talent for slow-hand. Isbell is a great guitar player, but songs like this one that seem designed for no other reason than showing that off never land well with me. Also, this song features very little in the way of hurricanes and hand grenades. Tunes like this one and “The Devil is My Running Mate” feel like Isbell has fallen in love with a phrase and isn’t sure what to do with it. Kill your darlings, Jason.

I prefer when Isbell is content with a lively country strum, like he delivers on “The Magician” and letting the song unfold naturally. Isbell tells great stories, and when the instruments serve the tale they benefit most. There is some beautiful picking bits in the bridge of this song, but they are understated and light. They traipse about in the middle of the mix and could easily go unnoticed if you were listening for them. When you do tune in, it is worth your time. When Isbell sings the line “I am an orphan man, but ain’t we all” it feels like he’s channeling Gillian Welch’s “Orphan Girl”. At least that’s how I imagine it.

Overall, this is a solid record and I’m glad I bought it on a whim.

Best tracks: Brand New Kind of Actress, Chicago Promenade, Dress Blues, In a Razor Town, The Magician

CD Odyssey Disc 1662: The Plasmatics

I’m tired today after a night with little sleep, but there is no level of fatigue that can’t be cured in part with the energy of this next band.

Disc 1662 is…Coup De Grace

Artist: The Plasmatics

Year of Release: 2000

What’s up with the Cover?  Any good Plasmatics cover will feature a couple of key details. An industrial art installation of some kind, and Wendy O. Williams looking completely trashed. This is a good Plasmatics record.

How I Came To Know It: I have been a Wendy O. Williams fan dating back to her 1984 album “W.O.W.” Back then I knew she had been in a band called the Plasmatics, and that they were “hard core” but never followed up.

Then about a year or two ago I came across a bunch of Plasmatics album in the metal section of my local record store while I was looking for something else. Intrigued, I bought one to see if I’d like it. I did like it, and I promptly went back and bought two more. “Coup De Grace” was one of those.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Plasmatics albums. I had four, until I realized that one of them was a compilation record and gave it away. Of the three that I have, I’m going to say “Coup de Grace” is…#1. Maybe the other two will slip ahead when I review them, but I gotta give this record its due right now.

Rating: 4 stars

When I was young the punks and the metalheads derisively looked down at their noses at each other. This was ridiculous given how close cousins they were musically – just a bit of melody and production separated them. If either group gave a listen to the Plasmatics “Coup de Grace”, they would have quickly seen there was a natural bridge between the two styles so natural as to be almost seamless. Well, the bridge would be made of repurposes twisted bits of metal girder, but seamless all the same.

Sadly you couldn’t listen to “Coup de Grace” back when I was a kid, because it hadn’t been released yet. They could have listened to 1982’s “Coup d’etat” though, and “Coup de Grace” is just the demo album of “Coup d’etat”, a bit rawer, but with the same tracks. I don’t own “Coup d’etat” but listening to the demos record makes me want to.

The earlier Plasmatics albums are more pure punk, but on “Coup de Grace” the Plasmatics embrace metal as well. Williams next turn would be to go full into the metal/punk fusion world with her solo record, “W.O.W.”. I love this crossover space, occupied by many of my longest-loved bands, including Girlschool, Motorhead and L7.

Those bands drop a fair bit of anger and aggression into their creations, but no one mainlines pure fury like Wendy O. Williams. Every line is an invitation to a fight, and every scream a wail of frustration at the pedestrian world she sees all around her. Williams isn’t one of rock’s great vocalists, but she is one of its great voices nonetheless. She snarls and spits and sneers her way through every song.

All that nasty has the potential to get tiresome on repeat listens, but it never happened to me. I was eager for the restart of the CD every single time. I’d like to apologize to my fellow drivers for playing this too loud with the top down, but if the ghost of Williams heard me apologizing for playing it loud she’d come back from the dead to kick me in the balls. So in defence of the family jewels, I must remain unrepentant.

Maybe no song captures the pure visceral quality of this record like the opening track, “Put Your Love in Me” the topic of which is about as mysterious as the title suggests. Wendy has a request, and it ain’t no metaphor.

“Rock ‘N’ Roll” is almost ACDC like in its anthem four-four thump. She settles the song down a bit and lets the guitar drone a bit, but don’t be fooled. That’s just so you can catch your breath for the fist pumping and jumping up and down that the chorus will demand of you. “Lightning Breaks” feels like the punk cousin to Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man.” The whole record is a celebration of loud.

If you’re looking for reflections of a healthy lifestyle, don’t look for it on this record. This album is pure animalistic rage, and the expressions of awareness when they appear are mostly filled with lust or anger. It is intoxicating, but after-school special material, it is not. Be warned.

I prefer a little melody in my hard music, and “Coup de Grace” is the most melodic of the Plasmatics releases that I know. It is a bit garage-y in places (apparently this raw aspect is a result of these being the demos) and this usually irks me and makes me want to take the masters back to the studio. In this case it is just what the doctor ordered.

Most of all, this record is an anthem for raising your fist and yelling. If you’ve had a bad day, this stuff will be sure to energize, both musically and lyrically. It will demand you rise up and stand tall, and call damnation upon the vicissitudes of fate. This is never better expressed than on “Path of Glory” where Williams sings:

“Mighty voices up on high
Purge the darkness with your cry
Smash the stillness of the air
End stagnation, end despair”

Sadly, Williams herself was unable to end despair, and tragically took her own life in 1998. “Coup de Grace” was released posthumously two years later. It is a worthy legacy to the no-prisoners approach she brought to her art.

Best tracks: Put Your Love in Me, Rock ‘N’ Roll, Just Like on TV, Lightning Breaks, Country Fairs

CD Odyssey Disc 1661: The Jazz Butcher

Welcome to Monday! Don’t despair at such a welcome – it is 8 p.m. Unless you’re on the nightshift, your day is already done. And if you are on the nightshift then why are reading this? Back to work!

Disc 1661 is…Last of the Gentleman Adventurers

Artist: The Jazz Butcher

Year of Release: 2012

What’s up with the Cover?  In Victorian times when a gentleman went adventuring, his last night was spent engaged in carnal delights with his devoted wife. If the gentleman adventurer was a bachelor, he would engage in carnal delights with the wife of a neighbour. In such situations she would wear dark glasses and he a deep-sea diving helmet, in order to preserve their dignity and the dignity of the community at large. Given that their identities where thus protected, it was customary to take a commemorative photo pre-coitus, which is what we have preserved here.

The system was hardly foolproof, as the following morning invariably found some single adventuring type leaving town, while down the street a flushed-faced woman waved goodbye with a bit more enthusiasm than occasion demanded.

OK, that’s all pretend, but would that all album covers could inspire such tall tales.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of the Jazz Butcher’s most recent (and last) album, “Highest in the Land” (reviewed very recently at Disc 1645). This caused me to not only get that record, but also to dig into the back catalogue. Despite the Jazz Butcher having 14 studio albums, I only liked these two.

How It Stacks Up: When I reviewed “The Highest in the Land” I gave it second place to see if “Last of the Gentleman Adventurers” could beat it. Turns out…it can. This is the best of the Jazz Butcher’s two best records.

Rating: 4 stars

What do you get if you cross the Cure with Nick Cave with maybe a hint of Belle and Sebastian? You get the Jazz Butcher (aka Pat Fish) a musical artist who does just whatever the hell he pleases, with the commercial success you’d expect from such self-indulgence.

Fortunately, I could give a fig about commercial success and if the self-indulgence makes for good tunes, I could care less about that as well. Fish writes beautiful songs in all manner of styles, but the one unifying factor is an easy, carefree delivery.

Even when the Jazz Butcher is singing about unhappy break ups and the slow grind of the world, he always sounds at ease with the situation. He exudes a sort of mellow resignation that makes you think of smoking cigarettes in Paris. These songs are the musical equivalent of effortlessly dodging dog shit on the sidewalk, all the while never taking your eyes off the grandeur of the Eiffel Tower.

The album is filled with examples of this devil-may-care approach to life, but maybe none better than the title track, with delicious stanzas like:

“We were the hard water kids of the Asbestos Age - no one died
Nobody chipped us or tracked us or caged us or taught us to fear. No one tried
So we helped ourselves to the world unafraid
Sometimes we even got paid
Well, now I've spent all that money I earned
But here is one thing I have learned:
There's nothing in life that's worth giving up
For the sake of five years in the Sunset Retirement Home”

Whether he’s channeling Robert Smith or Nick Cave, the songs have a universal lilt to them that sway along free and easy. Not like a boat rocking at sea so much as the light pitch of a sailboat tied to the docks as you board to drink a daiquiri with your lady love.

Like Cave, Fish is a born poet, and “The Last of the Gentleman Adventurers features his best stuff. The mix of femme fatale and old man desire on “Mercy” is particularly juicy, as Fish catches a glimpse of a beautiful woman with…

“She steps right off the pages of a book that's long been banned
And into the saloon bar, where I'm waiting for my man
It's ludicrous. She's luminous. I can't stay in the room
The pathology of passion says that I shall be consumed”

Beyond the lyrics, “Mercy” has some fine playing, including a guitar that is mellow and rich, and leaves you in the smoky embrace of the bar scene described above, with Fish ending the tune with a repeated refrain of “mercy, there’s no beauty without cruelty.”

My copy of the album is a reprint with a delicious review/promotional piece by writer Alan Moore taking up the majority of the inside fold. I’ve tried to show my love for the Jazz Butcher above, but Moore’s write up is as good as I’ve ever read about an album, and I’ll leave the last words to him:

“Follow at your peril, from the trail of snapped conventions left behind him, to a province still outside captivity. I’ll see you there.”

Best tracks: The Last of the Gentleman Adventurers, You Can Count Me Out, All the Saints, Mercy, Shakey 

CD Odyssey Disc 1660: Nadia Reid

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. No fun biographical facts today, dear readers. Let’s just get to it.

Disc 1660 is…Out of My Province

Artist: Nadia Reid

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover?  Woman stands with plants! I wouldn’t say Nadia Reid is lurking with these plants, but the way she’s tucked in with them it is definitely lurk-adjacent.

How I Came To Know It: I don’t remember anymore. Likely via a review but couldn’t say where I read it. I read a lot of music reviews. If you are visiting this site there’s a good chance you’ve got the same condition.

I do know that I ordered it direct all the way from…New Zealand. New Zealand – the Canada of the southern hemisphere!

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Nadia Reid album, so it can’t stack up.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

Sometimes an album can have everything going for it but miss the mark by not knowing when to say when. That’s the case with Nadia Reid’s “Out of My Province” a record with brilliant songwriting and production and a talented vocalist who trips herself up right at the doorstep of perfection.

Reid is a pop/folk singer with a big bold sound to her music that fills whatever space you make available. I liked this on headphones, in a car, and even in a car with the top down (which for music purposes is basically “outside”). Reid’s work is subtle and smoky but it has a sound that cuts through ambient engine sound with a efficiency that surprises you.

The song that first caught my attention was “Oh Canada” which is not the National Anthem of my homeland (that would be the differently spelled “O Canada”).  “Oh Canada” is a mid-tempo tune that on the surface is about travel and discovery but underneath is a general restlessness and more than a hint of regret.

Reid generally has good depth to her tunes, conveying a lot of unresolved anxiety in lyrics that are simple statements on the surface. “Oh Canada” also has a lovely jump to it, the energy of someone that is faking it until they feel it.

Another standout is “Other Side of the Wheel,” a song about a friend giving up the roving and wandering for a 9 to 5 and a regular life. This tune has no judgment, it’s just a love letter from one friend to another about how sometimes choices diverge.

With all this good stuff and more besides - go check out the best tracks below – you’d think this album was cruising to a high score, but it was not to be. Reid has a delightful singing voice but overly complicates her delivery throughout. The ends of lines tend to have a curl or lisp to them that feels affected.

She also sometimes chooses to go on a strange run when she should just hold the note and let those heartfelt lyrics hit you in the chest. Some would say it creates a subtle magic, but the songwriting, rich production and thoughtful instrumentation already has the subtle magic covered. Those additions can work, but often it is like peeking behind the screen at the show, and a trick revealed is a spell broken.

The first time I listened to “Out of My Province” I was convinced it was one of the best albums of the year and a sure-fire five star tour de force. When I put it on this time around I harumphed a couple of times for reasons cited above and was convinced it was on the edge of the discard pile. Over the course of a couple days and a few more listens it won me back. Maybe not to perfection, but to the point that I remembered why I liked it in the first place.

This is a good record, with a great one hiding just around the corner, but good is still worth your time.

Best tracks: High & Lonely, Oh Canada, Other Side of the Wheel, I Don’t Want to Take Anything From You, Who Is Protecting Me

CD Odyssey Disc 1659: Wagakki Band

My brain is a bit fried after a hard day at work, but I’m also home slightly earlier (for me) than usual, so I’m going to take advantage of the extra time and squeeze in a review.

Disc 1659 is…Vocalo Zanmai 2

Artist: Wagakki Band

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover?  A fairly classic Wagakki Band album cover, one you get to know them. Basically a group shot with some photo shopped art around them to make everyone look fancy.

The band came dressed in their finest which is a refreshing change from a lot of North American bands who seem to think it is cool to look slovenly. It is not.

Most of my Wagakki Band albums also include commemorative CDs and some of them have collectible playing cards of various band members. Vocalo Zanmai 2 comes with…Asa the bassist! Here’s a photo…

Collect them all!

How I Came To Know It: I have been a Wagakki Band fan for a number of years now but finding their albums has been devilishly hard, as they are not popular in North America, and not easy to order online either.

Then my friend Nick went to Japan earlier this year, armed with a list of albums I was looking for. He found every single one of them, including this one – which is their most recent release. Thanks, Nick!

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Wagakki Band albums. It is always hard to stack albums up when you listen to a glut of them in a short period of time, but since you didn’t read this category to watch me equivocate, I’ll put Vocalo Zanmai 2 in at #5.

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

I’m not a big fan of new technology. I avoid most social media (this blog being the exception, I got a cell phone only when my work required it and you can just generally count me right out of the whole Chat GPT experience. With this background it is surprising that I enjoyed a record full of humans covering electronically created songs. And not just a record of this – but a sequel of a record doing this.

Wagakki Band occupy their own unique corner of music, combining anthemic metal, Japanese folk music, and J-pop. This confluence of odd influences was not enough for Wagakki Band, however. On “Vocalo Zanmai” and its sequel (and current topic) “Vocalo Zanmai 2” they take songs composed on the Vocaloid system and cover them with the aforementioned mix of styles.

If you don’t know what Vocaloid is, well – there is a lot to learn, and more than I can squeeze into this review. The Coles’ Notes version is that it is software that you can use to compose not only music, but original voice as well. So original that there are even unique AI voices pulled together from voice fragments and samples that are characters, some of whom (like Hatsune Miku) are famous in their own right.

I should not enjoy electronically created music but in the hands of Wagakki Band, with their multitude of masteries of instruments ancient and modern, I loved the remakes. The whole of the experience is tied together by lead singer Yuko Suzuhana who is ethereal and elfin as ever, and more otherworldly than usual covering this stuff. “Surges” and “Akahitoha (One Crimson Leaf)” are particularly awesome. One fast and adventurous, and the other mysterious and emotionally evocative.

Thus inspired, I decided to go and listen to these two favourites in their original Vocaloid style. However, after only a few bars it was evident that whatever magic Wagakki Band had pulled out of these songs, it was of their own creation. Stripped of the artful human instrumentation and Yuko’s enchanting vocals the emotion was lacking and without that, the whole experience felt hollow in comparison. Maybe Vocaloid is an acquired taste and I just didn’t put the time in, or maybe I just like how Wagakki Band does it better.

Apart from the marvelous realization (or maybe just confirmation of bias) that I preferred the human versions, the album has all the hallmarks of what I like in Wagakki Band. Yuko’s voice and the musicianship I’ve already noted, but the frenetic energy this band brings to their work is infectious. It is a lot to take in, but once you’re acclimate to it, it will fill you with a lot of joy.

Or it won’t. This stuff is a LOT for the north American ear. Some of the tunes have unexpected chord progressions, and the added undercurrent of bouncy techno beats (even when played organically) can make you feel like you’re in a video game. A really cool video game with a killer soundtrack, but still a video game.

I would not start someone’s journey into the wonders of Wagakki Band with “Vocalo Zanmai 2” but I liked it all the same.

Best tracks: Surges, Akahitoha (One Crimson Leaf)

CD Odyssey Disc 1658: Alex Cameron

Welcome back gentle readers, where in the last few albums we’ve been taking a scroll through the twenties. The 2020s! Here’s one from last year.

Disc 1658 is…Oxy Music

Artist: Alex Cameron

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover?  Compared to a lot of Alex Cameron covers, this guy looks positively normal. Unlike Jumping the Shark and Forced Witness he doesn’t present as a low-level street thug, and unlike Miami Memory, he’s not a shirtless psychotic.

Which is not to say he does not look psychotic. He definitely looks psychotic. I’m just saying it’s a step up. Psychotic, but wearing a shirt.

How I Came To Know It: I have been an Alex Cameron fan since 2019, and have busily dug into his catalogue since. I decided to give this album a go when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Alex Cameron albums. Of those four, “Oxy Music” comes in at…#4. Someone had to be last. Also, since there is (for now) the last Alex Cameron album in my collection, here’s a handy recap:

1. Miami Memory: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1462)
2. Forced Witness: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1477)
3. Jumping the Shark: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1589)
4. Oxy Music: 3 stars (reviewed right here)

Rating: 3 stars

Alex Cameron’s early records are conceptual pieces built around a narrator who is a sort of failed actor/failed singer sleaze ball. It is awesome to listen to these stories, and even when the character is despicable, it is fun to look in on their squalid lives.

On “Oxy Music” Cameron shifts his creatives focus a few degrees, and explores drug culture in America, and the characters that inhabit it. Cameron matches up the production decisions on the record to a warm bath of synth and horn that matches the subject matter well. Some criticized his approach but having just given this record a good five or so listens, I can confirm for you that these critics are wrong. This production is built on empty happiness – and thus a big part of the metaphor that is getting explored.

It helps that Cameron can write a pop hook with a skill that is matched by few. Like him or hate him, these tunes are toe tappers, often in innovative ways you may not have heard before. Oxy Music also follows up on the strong vocal performance of 2019’s “Miami Memory” with more solid singing. Cameron won’t blow your speakers out with his range or power, but he has a high tone that is breathy or skeevy as each lyric requires. He has the natural phrasing of an actor, which makes sense given the characters he inhabits.

The tunes, as the theme requires, feature a LOT of drug references. Obvious ones like “They’re telling me to hold the line/but these lines have got a hold on me” to the more obscure, like:

“I don't wanna sound like an A-hole
I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful
See the credit cards on the table?
Never try to hide in a K-hole”

The songs have a dreamy quality that evokes the drug use itself, tinged with sadness and disconnection that comes with addiction. Cameron also manages to find time for his usual devil-may-care social commentary. By devil-may-care, Cameron doesn’t worry too much which side of a debate he’ll come out on, content with saying it and daring someone to be offended. “Sara Jo” and “Cancel Culture” both explore topics while tucked safely within characters that are not him. The listener can still take offence at the art itself, as Cameron no doubt welcomes.

The record doesn’t explore a lot of new ground, and at nine songs/33 minutes of running length it needed a little bit more meat on the bone. The only long song on the record is the title track, which drags a bit, but can be forgiven since it features the killer vocals of Sleaford Mods’ singer Jason Williamson.

“Oxy Music” doesn’t break a ton of new ground, but it isn’t often music gives you a deep dive into drug culture from the perspective of the addict where it is performance art. It was refreshing to enjoy an album on the subject and not feel like I was taking advantage of an artist actually going through the experiences, as is usually the case.

If the album reads a little disingenuous because of that, well, at least no one got hurt and these are some quality pop tunes along the way.

Best tracks: Best Life, Sara Jo, K. Hole

CD Odyssey Disc 1657: Whitehorse

The weekend of concerts and music continues! Here’s a review of the record that drew me to attend the Phillip’s Backyarder on a Sunday in the first place and following that a review of how the show went.

Disc 1657 is…I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying

Artist: Whitehorse

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover?  Luke Doucet and Melissa McClelland (dba Whitehorse) look like they are primed and ready for the bright lights of the stage. Which is a good thing because look at the size of those two spotlights.

Perhaps they are both vampires and the spotlights (unbeknownst to them) are loaded with ultraviolet bulbs. If so, it’ll be a short show, with a lot of pyrotechnics. Hopefully they won’t be too close to those curtains when it happens.

How I Came To Know It: I have been a fan for over a decade now and tend to buy their albums on faith each time one is released. Of late my faith in that process had been slipping with records that didn’t inspire me as much, but I read good things about “I’m Not Crying…” and decided to give it a go.

How It Stacks Up: I am glad I did give it a go. This is the best Whitehorse record in years. Maybe their best ever. I have eight Whitehorse albums (and a ninth that I reviewed and then parted ways with after reviewing at Disc 1103). “I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying” comes in at #2, and in a photo finish for #1.

Rating: 4 stars

Whitehorse is a band that is not afraid to experiment, and their sound has morphed over the years through variations on folk, pop, blues, rock and all the fuzzy space in between. Sometimes it has worked and sometimes they’ve lost me, but they’ve never sat still in a style for long.

“I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying” (the last time I’m typing that) is proof of addition by subtraction, as they go back in time to a stripped-down seventies honky tonk country sound. They go all-in for this sound and the best part is they do it with reverence. You can feel their genuine love for this golden oldie sound and barely a hint of self-awareness. They love this music, and it shows.

The songs are such a perfect match to old school country music I kept looking for signs that at least some of these were covers. Tunes with names like “If the Loneliness Don’t Kill Me”, “I Might Get Over This (But I Won’t Stop Loving You)” and “Leave Me as You Found Me” feel like they’ve fallen out of a time capsule from the days of George and Tammy or young Willie Nelson. I even did complex Google searches to fact check but it near as I could tell these are all originals.  They are just so damned good and timeless in their delivery that they fooled me. Sorry for doubting you, Whitehorse.

Those aforementioned tunes are exactly the twang-laden heartbreakers they appear to be, and delivered with some of the best vocals the duo has delivered in years.

The album also has a few tunes that are distilled Canadiana in a jar. My favourite is “Division 5” which is as Canadian as it gets, with our lovelorn narrator going down to the RCMP station to file a missing persons’ report after his girlfriend has left him. Turns out she ain’t missing, just missing from him. “Manitoba Bound” is a jaunty road tune that would be equally at home on a Corb Lund record. It has a lively jump and some grade A guitar work from Luke Doucet.

This record has the best production on any Whitehorse record to date. Everything is crisp, clear and vibrant. Every song was a party of sound in my ears I never wanted to end.

The last song is “Scared of Each Other,” a thoughtful exploration of how society is growing apart, with connectivity at an all-time low. The song had me reminiscing about pre-COVID days, and just how much two-plus years of pandemic affected us all. It also reaffirmed how important it is to find human moments in a constantly changing world.

By the time I was through a few listens of “I’m Not Crying…” I realized it was a lot more than just a throwback to a simpler time, it was a love letter to the human spirit, realized through a band that has aged gracefully and continues to bloom with new and wonderful expressions of their art. I’d say never change, Whitehorse, but I am realizing that I prefer it when you do.

Best tracks: If the Loneliness Don’t Kill Me, Division 5, Manitoba Bound, Bet the Farm, 6 Feet Away, I Miss the City, Scared of Each Other

The Concert: Phillips Backyarder Festival, July 9, 2023 – Victoria BC

This was Day Two at the Backyarder for me, and my lower back was making it very clear all that standing on concrete came with consequences. I found a couple of places to sit down between sets and this – plus my natural refusal to surrender to bodily weakness – got me through the show. We saw three acts last night, so here they are in order:

Haley Blais

Haley Blais is an indie pop singer-songwriter from Vancouver. I didn’t know her prior to getting tickets but I’d listened to her albums the week prior and liked what I heard.

Blais was solid and exactly what I expected all the way down to the kind of off-hand musings about life and love I’d expect from an artist in this genre. She had a good voice and her songwriting is solid. Except the one song about baby teeth. That one felt a bit too precious. Maybe it is better on the album…

Anyway, Blais also won the battle for “best merch” at the merch table. A cool black and blue t with groovy graphics. Here’s a helpful hint to bands when they design a t-shirt. I want a cool design, not a giant picture of you. Thank you, Haley, for understanding. I also bought her CD at the merch table which is one of the great ways to ensure the money gets to the artist.

Whitehorse

I was pretty jacked to see Whitehorse. We’d seen them way back in 2015 (reviewed at Disc 723, and I don’t think since. As I noted above, I was also pretty stoked about their latest record and hoping for some tracks from there.

Once again, they did not disappoint. In concert I always notice how much more powerful Melissa McClelland’s voice is compared to hubby Luke Doucet. They harmonize well, and Luke is no slouch, but it is McClelland’s vocals that always blow me over.

The song choices were excellent with a good mix of some of my old favourites and a couple I didn’t expect from the new record (“Bet The Farm” and “Manitoba Bound”) both of which are standouts for me on the new record.

What I didn’t like was the length of the set. It couldn’t have been more than 30-35 minutes with maybe 7 songs total. Over way too soon. The thought that overrated indie rocker Bahamas was coming on later to get a solid 75+ made me want to shake my fist at the heavens. Ineffectually, of course. No one ever had an impact shaking their fist at the heavens.

A second gripe was that for the second straight show I was let down by Whitehorse at the merch table. Back in 2015 the best concert tee was sold out of mediums, and I had to settle for the second best. It is OK, but not even good enough to show my cred at this show (I opted to wear Iron Maiden instead in a genre-busting move that felt very satisfying).

This time around I have no idea what sizes they had left; the t-shirts were just too boring to care. One with text only, and the other a big outline of a “W”. Do better, Whitehorse. Maybe call up Iron Maiden for some t-shirt advice. Those guys make awesome concert shirts.

Sudan Archives

Sheila and I came for Whitehorse, but we decided to see what Sudan Archives was all about. Sudan Archives (one person) is a cross between hip hop, smooth soul and some funky violin bits. She was just too innovative a combo to miss out, and if we didn’t like it, we avowed we’d leave early.

Gentle reader, we did not leave early. Sudan Archives was awesome. After exhorting the sound guy to turn it up (twice) she set in with an energy and bravado that spread rapidly through the crowd.

During the set we learned that she’d lost all her luggage (she’d flown in the night before from Austria, of all places) and had to borrow sound equipment from the other bands and buy her wardrobe at the sex store across the street from her hotel (n.b. this is not supposition on my part -she happily told us this).

We would never have known if she hadn’t told us. The show was crisp and clean, and those violin bits in the middle of all that hip hop and soul work in a magical way that me thinking “this is what Capercaillie might sound like if they got their groove on”).

Whitehorse was great, but Sudan Archives stole the show. I don’t love her stuff on studio, but she is must-see live.

Bahamas

Yeah, no. We left before Bahamas. I do not like Bahamas. Came home and watched the new Star Trek, which was a much better use of my time.

CD Odyssey 1656: Lord Huron

Sorry for the delay, gentle readers but in return for your patience you shall be rewarded with both an album review and immediately following that, a concert review!

This is the first in a pair of long (for me) weekend reviews where I pair a band’s latest record with a recent concert appearance.

Disc 1656 is…Long Lost

Artist: Lord Huron

Year of Release: 2021

What’s up with the Cover?  When I see this cover I hear the voice of a scolding motherly type saying, “What’re we gonna do with that boy? Always walking all over town playing guitar with his head in the clouds.”

To which the boy responds with a whiny, “Mom! My head is those clouds!”

How I Came To Know It: I have liked Lord Huron since around 2015 when they released “Strange Trails”. I did not like their next record, 2018’s “Vide Noir” but they got me back into the fold with “Long Lost” three years later. Mostly.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Lord Huron albums. Of those three (i.e. not "Vide Noir") “Long Lost” is my least favourite. Sorry, Lord Huron, but someone has to be last.

Rating: 3 stars

57 minutes that should’ve been 38 and 16 tracks that should’ve been nine. That’s the summary of the sometimes brilliant but often bloated fourth studio release from indie folk artist Lord Huron.

Let’s start with the positive. Lord Huron are the masters of atmospheric folk music, using rich overlapping harmonies and a surprisingly compelling hum to the production to deliver a mysterious, ghost-like sound. While I prefer their work using this technique on previous records, “Long Lost” has more than a few fine examples.

Most notable of these is the first full length track on the album, “Mine Forever” which not only has those beautiful harmonies, but also a crazy western desert guitar sound that makes you feel like you’re about to come across an old time shoot out, or maybe an abandoned town filled with the vengeful spirits who were the former victims of those shoot outs in the distant past.

Playing you further into this mood is the mournful regret of “Twenty Long Years” the story of a vain and tragic quest that leaves our hero on the side of the road bemoaning his fate with:

“I’ve a thought or two to share with you
But the dope tends to cloud my mind
I destroyed my health searching for myself
But there ain't nothing there to find”

I love that the quest was a journey of self-discovery but all that resulted was a hollowed-out husk of an addict. It is a powerful and deeply sad tune.

Like a lot of the best songs on the record, “Mine Forever” and “Twenty Long Years” have the underlying structure of old westerns. You don’t get a lot of westerns these days, and it was a welcome and well-accomplished journey updating some of those forms.

If only they’d been content with that and wrapped things up with nine songs and a lot of great memories. Instead, they bloat this record with seven more tracks that fall into three equally unpleasant categories.

The least unpleasant are a trio of song snippets, all around 90 seconds long. These aren’t tunes, but they feel like they could have been if more effort had been put in. I think they’re intended as palate cleansers between other tracks, but they should have either been fully realized as songs or left on the editing room floor as rejects that didn’t come together.

Remember the worst thing about mid-nineties rap albums? It was the skits! Well, not to be outdone, Lord Huron throws a trio of skits in here, mostly where some form of radio announcer is talking about “them there songs” that you could otherwise have just listened to, unmolested.

And in the “least forgivable” category the record ends with over 14 minutes of “Time’s Blur”. Never was a song more aptly named, as this pointless, meandering, formless bit of nothing blurs its way into your brain with mind-numbing slowness. Ever sit through the full credits of a movie? I mean past that first song they’re hoping is a radio hit, and also past the quirky second tune. Even past the forgotten oldie covered by some modern up-and-comer. Right to the end, where all you get is long lists of animators and stunt folks, accompanied by an atmospheric auditory nothing that hints that it is time to deposit your popcorn remnants in the trash and go outside before the lights come on. That’s “Time’s Blur”.

With so much going for it, “Long Lost” had no need for snippets, skits and movie scores, and yet they are inflicted on you nonetheless. It irritated me all the more knowing how solid the rest of this record is.

Best tracks: Mine Forever, Love Me Like You Used To, Twenty Long Years, Not Dead Yet

The Concert: Phillips Backyarder Festival, July 7, 2023 – Victoria BC

This was my third appearance at the annual Phillips Backyarder, so I knew what to expect. A lot of sun, surprisingly good sound quality and a whole lot of people watching. This year the band that drew me was Lord Huron, but I also wanted to see Skye Wallace and JJ Wilde.

Skye Wallace

I did not see her. She was the opener and in order to see her and the headliner (Lord Huron) would have meant six hours at the event (the Backyarder does not have in/out privileges). Sorry, Skye. I did buy her latest CD and a concert t-shirt, so she at least got some of my money. For what it is worth, I heard she was very good, and deserving of a better spot in the lineup.

Neal Francis

I did not want to see Neal Francis. I’d scouted his shows on line and knew he was a gratuitous noodler. Sadly, we arrived early, and I heard him anyway. He noodled a lot and generally sounded like someone trying to riff off of his parents’ record collection for songs that went on for 10+ minutes at a time. There was the occasional cool groove, but I can get that on songs I like. In future, he should be given the opener slot so Skye Wallace can get the crowd she deserves.

JJ Wilde

JJ Wilde (woman in white top in bad photo above) is a Canadian rock singer who brings a ton of energy to a show. The crowd seemed well acquainted with her stuff, but for me it was mostly new outside of a couple videos I’d watched to prep myself.

Wilde’s music isn’t innovative. She sounds like an amalgam of a lot of other rock acts across the ages. However, she sounds like all the best parts of those other rock acts. I liked it a lot and the sound man was also on point, bringing her across clear and vibrant (n.b. – we stood near the sound booth, which is always a smart move at an outdoor or stadium show).

I thought the tunes were real live kickers, and Wilde’s stage presence is infectious. She did lots of interactions with the audience, but never in a way that pulled focus from the music. She also showed off a serious set of pipes and seemed to genuinely have a good time. I’m not sure I’d buy her records at this point, but I would definitely see her live again.

Lord Huron

Prior to the show both Sheila and I expressed some misgivings about Lord Huron. I love their studio stuff, but it feels heavily overdubbed and produced, and those kinds of bands don’t always translate to a live show.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Lord Huron are amazing live. They were crystal clear, and were able to recreate that layered sound perfectly, while still adding in the organic quality that makes live music live.

The set decorations were a bit pretentious, with a fake tree and large “Stonehenge” type rock structure, it had me thinking of Spinal Tap. Despite that (welcome) silliness, Lord Huron plays with an earnestness and emotional honesty, even on tracks from their first record now over 10 years earlier. No songs were mailed in.

They did a good mix of old stuff and new stuff, and I heard most (but not all) of my favourites. Best of all was “Ghost on the Shore” which is one of my favourite songs from their debut album. The good stuff on the new album did not all get played, but I recall enjoying “Mine Forever” when it came on.

“Ghost on the Shore” is a slow and mysterious tune, as befits its “ghost story” subject matter. It was not well loved by the crowd, with a slight increase of traffic to the beer line up as it played. I overheard one young person exclaim “Oh, this is better” to the more up-tempo (but lesser) song that followed it. I tried hard not to hate this person and succeeded.

It was easy to like the crowd, which was well behaved, and generally respectful. At times they were even downright overfriendly, offering to take pictures for us, or just coming up to compliment us on our outfits. People-watching at festivals is a big part of the non-music related fun, and it makes it easier when the people are nice.

The one downside of the show was that in between songs Lord Huron do a lot of ambient sonics that felt uncomfortably like the filler from their last album. At one point I’m sure I heard the opening few minutes of “Time’s Blur” and was prepared to murder someone, but it quickly morphed into a better track, and all was forgiven.

Near the end of the set, Ben Schneider put on a cowboy hat and a death mask for a few songs that had a theme that matched. I found this costume change most excellent. Here’s a (poorly taken) picture:

Lord Huron ended their set with a big thank you to the crew (they did it twice, in fact) and right after doing so lead singer Ben Schneider’s mic crapped out. It was back in a couple of bars though, and you know it only returned through the quick action of the aforementioned crew.

I wouldn’t say I had a religious experience seeing Lord Huron, but it was one of the better shows I’ve seen in recent years and judging by the amount of their merch I saw walking about the place, they’ve got a built-in fan base should they decide to return. I hope they do.

CD Odyssey Disc 1655: Suzanne Vega

It was only two albums ago (on a Waylon Jennings review) that I noted I’d taken a deep dive into two artists. Waylon was one of them and this next album is by the other one.

Disc 1655 is…Self-titled

Artist: Suzanne Vega

Year of Release: 1985

What’s up with the Cover?  Portrait of a young artist, dressed in black.

With that interplay of light and her serious expression this could be a scene from a film noir. Vega’s just arrived at my office telling me how I shouldn’t trust that blonde bombshell that showed up with a job a couple days earlier. Do I trust the bombshell or this brash young woman with sensitive eyes that you know hide their own share of secrets? This being a film noir, the answer is obvious. Both these dames’ll try to kill me before the week is out. Trust neither.

How I Came To Know It: I learned about Suzanne Vega from my friend and former roommate Greg, who one day brought home her underappreciated gem “99.9 F” (reviewed way back at Disc 456). That was all I needed over the last several decades, but last week I bought three more of her records. This is one of them.

How It Stacks Up: As the mathletes among you will have already determined, I now have four of Suzanne Vega’s nine studio albums and at this point my desire for her records is sated. Her self-titled debut is my least favourite of those four. Pessimists will note that makes it least liked, optimists will note that it is fourth of nine.

Rating: 2 stars

First albums are often an artist’s best. In the case of Suzanne Vega, her first album shows the promise of her talent, but apart from a few gems, it also shows an artist still finding her voice.

Vega does an alternative, soft spoke, and thoughtful pop that is ahead of its time. Nowadays I listen to all kinds of artists who owe their legacy to her (Torres, Samia and others come to mind). Atmospheric and mysterious, Vega’s voice has a slightly (but deliberately) flat delivery. She occupies a space that is part whisper, part spoken word and part contemporary folk. I can’t think of anyone else doing what she was doing in 1985, which is cool even if it isn’t consistently my cup of tea.

What struck me most on this record is how it is arranged around melody, rather than through it. The guitar strums and drumbeats all seem off the beat, or around it, like the winking stars in a night sky collectively making up a constellation. It is here on many reviews that I would say how Vega’s vocals cut through that constellation of sound like a streaking meteor but…not so much. She is not a powerhouse, nor a particularly emotional singer, relying on phrasing and lyrics to get her through. More of a distant shooting star that you have to be ready for in order to appreciate.

Vega relies on her words to make the songs have gravitas, with mixed results. Some of these tunes tell great stories, notably “Marlene on the Wall” and my favourite, “the Queen and the Soldier”. “The Queen and the Soldier” is a tragic fairy tale, and the most linear of the songs on the record for what you could call “plot”. It has an old school “The Faerie Queene” kind of quality. It is also Vega’s best writing, with stanzas filled with heart and a carefully structured dialogue between a soldier demanding answers and the queen who he has served. It begins:

“The soldier came knocking upon the Queen's door
He said, "I am not fighting for you anymore"
The Queen knew she'd seen his face someplace before
And slowly she let him inside

“He said, "I've watched your palace up here on the hill
And I've wondered who's the woman for whom we all kill
But I am leaving tomorrow and you can do what you will
Only first I am asking you why"”

It is a lovely and magical conversation but (spoiler alert) doesn’t end well for the soldier. Nothing new there, but along the way it creates memorable characters, some surprising revelations and great poetry.

In other places, the poetry falls short. “Small Blue Thing” feels like a writing assignment from a first-year creative writing course. Stanzas like these:

“Today I am a small blue thing
Made of china, made of glass
I am cool and smooth and curious, I never blink
I am turning in your hand
Turning in your hand”

Feel strained. Earlier, the small blue thing is compared to an eye, so this seems to be an effort to link the earlier eye imagery to the new imagery, except now the small blue thing never blinks. It is a strained connectivity that reinforced my thinking that some writing prof had assigned the class the task of “writing about a small blue thing”. I bet he hated grading that assignment.

The record suffers from eighties production values (and the fact that I’m listening to a direct transfer to CD without adjustments from the record-friendly mix doesn’t help). But it isn’t just the production. The arrangements that float around the tunes are very art school, and only work about half the time.

I give Vega credit for being at the forefront of a pop music movement still alive and vibrant today, and there are easily enough gems on the record to warrant keeping it. However, this is not her greatest work, and I’m glad time and experience brought her to higher levels on later records.

Best tracks: Marlene on the Wall, Undertow, The Queen and the Soldier