CD Odyssey Disc 1671: Margo Price

I’m back from a trip out of town, where I was able to listen to this next album on…a ferry! Also in my car, but not at the same time, although that would’ve technically been possible.

Disc 1671 is…Strays

Artist: Margo Price

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover?  Margo runs barefoot across a Mars-like landscape in what looks like a bridesmaid’s dress. There’s something awkward and hesitant in her pose here, but that’s likely just her taking short steps to ensure she doesn’t twist her ankle on the treacherous terrain.

I know what you’re thinking – wouldn’t she run a lot more efficiently in a pair of sneakers? You may be right, but think if she was still wearing those pink kitten heels from the wedding? Sometimes barefoot is the only option available!

But I digress…

How I Came To Know It: I was already a Margo Price fan, and this was just me buying her new album and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Margo Price albums which is all of them. Unfortunately, “Strays” comes in at #4. Hey, something had to be last…

Rating: 3 stars

Margo Price doesn’t sell records like Taylor Swift, but she’s slowly and steadily grown her career, becoming an indie and critical darling in the process. The good reputation is very much earned, and Price is at a place in her career where she won’t be filling a football stadium but can at least damned well do what she pleases artistically.

As a result of all that (indie level) critical hype, I was pretty stoked when this record got released. I broke my own rules and went and read some background material about it, which made me confident that I was going to love it. I’d share that stuff, but it was someone else’s work and besides, we’re here for the music, not the bio.

On “Strays” Margo Price continues to do what has made her career so interesting to follow – a fearless willingness to go wherever her artistic inspiration takes her. Starting out very firmly in the country vibe, she has slowly and steadily added new approaches to her music like a closet full of consignment clothes, vibrant, eclectic and individual.

The record opens strong with the rollicking “Been to the Mountain” a semi-autobiographical tale celebrating her own rise from obscurity and poverty into respectability and financial security. Best line:

“I've been a victim and I've been a tumor
Used to be your waitress but now I'm a consumer”

This song got my energy up and while there were good moments yet to come, I don’t think Price ever lands the same ‘oomph’ as she does out of the gate.

Next up is “Light Me Up” which features Mike Campbell on guitar, although it feels halfway through that Mike is doing a Neil Young impression. Campbell is brilliant, but this song felt a bit too crammed with good ideas.

The record pays homage to many greats across multiple genres. “Radio,” is the best of these, a tune with a great mix of country bones dressed up with dance pop energy. It is a bit Springsteen, a bit Lucinda Williams, with some kind of dance pop energy that holds the whole thing together. All these styles merge flawlessly under Price’s careful coaxing, and the result is a mix of playful, sexy and a bit of nervous vulnerability.

The worst is “Lydia” which is trying to be gritty but felt dated before its time, like a spoken-word poem that was locked away in a time capsule from the mid-nineties. It is supposed to make you feel for the hard-scrabble title character, but at over six minutes I found that boredom had set in well before the song’s narrative had resolved.

This record has a dreamlike quality, and the genre jumps are a bit more pronounced than on her previous records. I like that Price tries a lot of stuff, but it also felt a bit what my stylish wife would call “too much icing, not enough cake”. The result is a lot of near brilliance but also a lack of cohesion. It made for a good record on the strength of sheer talent alone, but it could’ve been great with just a pinch more focus.

Best tracks: Been to the Mountain, Radio, Country Road

CD Odyssey Disc 1670: Echo and the Bunnymen

I have the day off and so, gentle reader, you are treated to a review a day early! Sadly our streak of four-star albums is over, but this next record is still a good one.

Disc 1670 is…Crocodiles

Artist: Echo and the Bunnymen

Year of Release: 1980

What’s up with the Cover?  A group of disaffected English youths sitting around in the woods. This group have left their car headlights on, presumably to aid in their intended frolic among the autumn leaves. It will be a long walk home once the battery dies.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve heard of this band for a long time, but never checked them out until my friend Nick bought me this record as a birthday present several years ago. Thanks, Nick!

How It Stacks Up: I have two Echo and the Bunnymen albums, and “Crocodiles” comes in second place.

Rating: 3 stars

I imagine that Echo and the Bunnymen were a broody lot to go to high school with. A lot of trench coats and sallow faces from not getting enough sun. However, they were also the kids that if you got to knew them were pretty interesting, if a little awkward once the crowd got too big.

“Crocodiles” is Echo and the Bunnymen’s first album, but it demonstrates a surprising level of musical innovation and maturity. The record feels fully formed, and I immediately got the impression the band had a solid vision. Sometimes debut albums are exploratory as the band tries to figure out who they are. “Crocodiles” is the youthful energy of a band who knows exactly where they’re going. Or at least that’s how it seemed to me – I generally approach art in as non-biographical a way as possible.

The record has elements of punk rock in it, but it is punk rock desperately wishing it were New Wave, if it could just shake off all that sadness. They never do shake it off, but that’s OK, because that is a big part of what draws you in. The rawness is an open wound that you don’t immediately want to bandage because it is fascinating just watching the blood well up.

There is an effort in here to be anthemic, but the anthems are absentminded, and distracted, defined more by Les Pattinson’s amazing work on the bass than anything going on in the guitar or vocals. It isn’t driving music, it’s music for sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the side window and watching the English countryside flow by. There was a part of me that kept waiting to be swept up into the experience, but it isn’t music designed to do that. It’s an ocean of sound, but it is not for swimming so much as being submerged.

Production-wise there is a lot going on. Bells tinkle here and there, and the drums, guitar and bass often feel like they’re having a friendly competition to find space rather than cooperating to play a tune. It is a testament to the band’s talent that this sometimes-discordant approach to the arrangements ends up as something cohesive.

I should note at this point that this is NOT how I usually like my music arranged. I prefer straight-no chaser arrangements and the deliberately jarring compositions are against my inclinations. At the same time, I couldn’t deny they know what they’re doing.

Lyrically I didn’t love it, and I had a hard time sorting through the mix to hear what lead singer Ian McCulloch was getting on about. The exception was “Villiers Terrace” which sounds like a rager of a party, with a lot of ill-advised drug use. What’s going on up at Villiers Terrace, you ask? – this sort of thing:

“People rolling 'round on your carpet
Biting wool and pulling string
You said people rolled on carpet
But I never thought they'd do those things”

It sounds like a few hangovers in the morning, and maybe one or two people at the hospital getting all that wool pumped out of their stomachs.

I dig Pattinson’s bass on this tune as well, and as I re-familiarized myself with “Crocodiles” I realized that the more I focused on the bass the more enjoyable the record became.

Despite all the innovation, I found this record hard to relate to an emotional level. Admittedly my listens happened while I was out running and out driving, and neither experience lends itself to this style of music. While Echo and the Bunnymen have the angst down good and proper here, I needed a bit more genuine heart at the core of the experience. Still good by virtue of the innovation and musical wizardry, but short of great.

Best tracks: Going Up, Villier’s Terrace, Happy Death Men

CD Odyssey Disc 1669: Evan Bartels

This next review is my fourth straight 4-star selection. This means I’m on quite a winning streak. It also means I buy a lot of great music. You’re welcome!

Disc 1669 is…The Devil, God & Me

Artist: Evan Bartels

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover?  Evan looking pensive in the half-light of the afternoon. Maybe he’s worried about that Grade 9 math exam he didn’t study for, or that his mom will find out he’s been taking booze out of the liquor cabinet and topping it up with water. Based on the songs on the record, probably the latter…

How I Came To Know It: Way back in 2017 I read a review of this record in some obscure folk magazine the name of which I have long forgotten. I then went out and found his stuff on Youtube. I liked it but many years passed without it joining my collection. Bartels released a second record, and then a third, but despite my growing excitement I couldn’t find any of them anywhere. He didn’t show up in music stores, he wasn’t available on Amazon, and he didn’t even have a Bandcamp account.

Finally, earlier this year I succumbed to six years of unresolved desire and bought all three of his albums straight from his website. You win, Evan.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Evan Bartels albums, and this is the best one, so #1.

Rating: 4 stars

Evan Bartels has one of those voices that hurts so good. Somewhere in between the teary tenor of Jason Isbell and the bleak baritone of John Moreland, Bartels carves his own bit of heartache.

His preferred media for emotionally wiping you out is the same style as both those gentlemen, delivering Americana alt-country tunes full of deep-rooted confessionals full of hardness. This is wallow served up as a double (or as the song on the album reflects, “Two at a Time”).

I’m a sucker for this stuff, that is working man, hard-scrabble stuff. It is basic 4-4 time, or just as often a waltz, slowly moving around the floor, spinning its web of easy rhymes, plain language and perfect phrasing. Do you love those stoic characters in a show that say very little, but seem to speak entirely in folksy wisdom and hard lessons? Then Bartels is your guy.

The record starts with “Widow” a tune that reminded me of mid-nineties Steve Earle in a good way. Bartels has a snarl to his voice and seems very aware of his own intent to write a hit. I don’t think he did, but the song has a nice rising power to it all the same.

Ultimately, as much as it rocks out “Widow” also feels like it’s trying too hard. That’s OK, as Bartels is just warming up for track two, the sublime “Demons”. “Demons” starts quiet, full of gentle guitar pluck and a raspy delivery from Bartels telling what a bad man he is – mostly to himself. Best line:

“My demon's kiss was the whiskey on my lips
And it burned like fire on the tip of my tongue”

It isn’t all that complicated, but the way Bartels’ characters wear their hearts on their sleeves, it is hard not to go all in. This song (and its follow up “Two at a Time”) will both have you raising imaginary shots of Jim Beam or regretting a few of the real ones you may have drained in days gone past.

Bartels goes full John Moreland on “The Way It Breaks,” a blue-collar anthem about getting knocked down and taking pride in the simple act of survival. And it is downhill from here. By the time Bartels gets to “Wish They Would” he’s openly wishing his smoking habit would just kill him as advertised. All that, and you’re not even halfway through the record.

At this point clever readers will have ascertained this record is not the feel-good fun-fest of the year. Bartels is gonna go deep down and look for something raw. The vocals are full of power and rebellion, but these are songs that are fundamentally about resilience, not reassurance. Life will knock you down. Your job, simple as it sounds, is to keep getting up.

Bartels doesn’t break a lot of new ground on “The Devil, God & Me”; these woeful themes have all been explored before. Also, the basic nature of their imagery isn’t going to inspire beyond common tropes of alcohol, drugs and heartache. That said, Bartels takes well-worn roads and rides them well to the ragged edge. He doesn’t have the same lyrical talent of giants like Earle, Moreland or Isbell, but every word he sings comes with the same honest conviction. That, and a Grade A vocal delivery makes this record more than worth your time.

Best tracks: Demons, Two at a Time, The Way it Breaks, Wish They Would, The Devil God & Me

CD Odyssey Disc 1668: Lucius

My last Lucius review caused a (friendly) feud between myself and a Tame Impala fan (to summarize: he likes them; I don't). We’ll see if today’s words of musical wisdom are received any better.

Disc 1668 is…Wildewoman

Artist: Lucius

Year of Release: 2013

What’s up with the Cover?  A very wild woman eats an ice cream cone. What is so wild about eating an ice cream cone, you ask? Well, what if I told you she was lactose intolerant! That’s right – this woman is a risk taker, a heart breaker and (in about an hour from now) a bum quaker.

How I Came To Know It: Back in 2018 I read a review of “Nudes” (reviewed back at Disc 1252. That led me to that album, and then backwards through their catalogue, which is how I landed on “Wildewoman”.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Lucius albums (I’m still on the lookout for their latest). Of those three, “Wildewoman” comes in at #2.

Rating: 4 stars

Lucius is the singing duo of Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig, who make lighthearted dream pop with the bones of country songs if you were to strip them down. This music was a bit of a shock to the system after the heavy metal majesty of my previous review (Visigoth) but once I settled into their much mellower sound, I had a good time.

There is a fair bit of jangle in this music, creating not so much a wall of sound as a wall of mist. Lots is going on, but it doesn’t feel busy. The experience starts with the vocals, because Wolfe and Laessig are so naturally complementary that everything is delightfully harmonized. After that, the arrangements just fall into place.

My early favourite on the record was “Go Home” with an easy midnight stroll kind of swing, and a more stripped-down production than other places on the record. On “Nudes” Lucius totally cuts out all the extraneous sound and whenever “Wildewoman” approaches that sound is when I like it best.

The topics tend to be the drama of one’s early twenties. Lots of relationship stuff, and the wobble between the disconcerting “what’s my purpose?” and the self-affirming “embrace uncertainty!” So no need to have a complex, it is just youth in all its grandeur and exploratory grandeur. I’m no spring chicken anymore, but good music can always bring you back to a time and a place.

“Tempest” is another standout, again with the two vocals blending into a single voice. It had me wondering if this is what angels sound like. Not that I’m saying there are angels, just that if they were they’d sing like this. As opposed to Valkyries, who would sing more like Visigoth. You know, with a sort of “we’ll still bear you to heaven with our otherworldly singing, but when you arrive, there will be fighting.”

But I digress…

“Two of Us on the Run” may be the record’s best tune. It captures all the elements of the youthful wobble I referenced earlier. There is a romantic element, an exploration of the world (this time with your partner) and even a bit of doubt and uncertainty (delivered through well-placed minor chords) that make you unsure of whether it will all work out, but willing to strike out all the same.

Not every track took me skyward, and one or two tunes fell into an “inoffensive filler” vibe. “Until We Get There” is “Two of Us on the Run” but if it were in a less thoughtful teen road trip movie. It is still wonderful to listen to, but I found myself peeking behind the curtain of the song’s structure rather than being wrapped up in its anthemic spirit, as it intended. The trilogy of road trip tunes picks up again with “Don’t Just Sit There” which does all the same things as the earlier two tunes, but without evincing any desire for me to look behind the curtain.

This was a lot of songs exploring the same theme in a row, but I didn’t mind. I was happy to just imagine I was in a convertible, top down, driving to my next adventure. Maybe this was because a lot of my listening was in a convertible, with the top down…but Lucius did make it feel like I was driving to an adventure, and any art that puts me in that frame of mind is good by me.

Best tracks: Go Home, Tempest, Two of Us on the Run, Don’t Just Sit There

CD Odyssey Disc 1667: Visigoth

Sometimes music makes you think, and sometimes music makes you sad, but this next album just made me rock, and that’s just as valid an experience.

Disc 1667 is…Conqueror’s Oath

Artist: Visigoth

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover?  Once again, heavy metal albums represent!

A paladin in full plate armour and mounted on her trusty steed looks down upon a phalanx of spearmen. She looks capable of kicking all their asses, if she can only get her horse to work properly. There is something seriously wrong with the front legs of this horse, which appear to be doing some kind of calisthenics or yoga stretch prior to the battle. Attention artist: horses do not do this.

Despite this disturbing anatomical inconsistency, I declare this cover with its armies, knights and majestic castles, awesome. If you fold out the booklet you get even more spearmen and also another warrior who looks ready to assist our paladin in evening the odds, or at the very least willing to pick her up out of the river when her horse inevitably falls on its face.

How I Came To Know It: I feel into a Youtube hole, clicking through a bunch of bands that all fell vaguely under the banner of “New Wave of Traditional Heavy Metal” which is a genre I’ve been discovering over the last few years.

How It Stacks Up: I’m on the lookout for two more Visigoth albums, but so far this is the only one, so it can’t stack up. I believe it will end up the best, for what its worth.

Rating: 4 stars

Discovering new music is a wonderful experience, and so is rediscovering old music you forgot you liked. Listening to Visigoth’s “Conqueror’s Oath” felt like a bit of both.

Visigoth is traditional heavy metal, which is essentially the stuff I grew up with, maybe with a bit more crunch, but essentially the same. No guttural voices, limited double bass (just the right amount) and songs that get in and get on it in a hurry. Visigoth trades in the pure stuff – riff driven tunes, anthemic vocals that soar across the top of the mix and songs about all manner of epic stuff.

This music brings out the best of my 14-year-old self, filled with all manner of fantasy, swordplay and derring-do I used to love as a teenager. Who am I kidding, though? I still love this stuff.

Case in point, the opening track, “Steel and Silver”. I was happy with it just being a song about some warrior running about slaying bad guys. A review of the lyrics revealed references to “Kaer Morhen” and the Plains of Temeria – both of which it turns out are part of the Witcher series of books/games/TV shows. One song in, and Visigoth had already out-fantasied me.

More than that, however, “Steel and Silver” is a kick ass metal track. Opening with a furious electric guitar trilling its way through an intricate melody, before turning into a thumping army march of a chorus, pounding away with Dread Import. It is awesome.

Also fun was “Outlive Them All” which is – very literally – about the movie Highlander. The refrain of this tune is “there can be only one” which is that movie’s big catch phrase. Is it silly? Sure, but Queen did an entire record of songs for the movie (“A Kind of Magic” reviewed way back at Disc 749) and I didn’t complain about that. “Outlive Them All” is no “Princes of the Universe” but it is still awesome on its own terms.

The album’s best track is “Traitor’s Gate” which is a seven-minute journey of glory. Lead singer Jake Rogers’ vocals are at their best here, and he gets a chance to really show off through the whole opening quarter of the song. That features a light and mysterious movie overture quality that inevitably converts to a furious guitar riff (and a bit of well-placed double-bass drumming). Lyrically this song is over the top in all the right ways. Some choice lines include:

“Stars, be my blazing guide
Lighting my way like torches that murder the night”

And

“Fly through the traitor’s gate
I am the reaver that rides on the cold winds of hate”

Not exactly Dio, but not exactly not Dio either.

This stuff is poetry of a lesser kind, but it is good clean fun, and it makes you want to pump your fist. If anything, it is when they try to sing about something normal that they fall apart. Notably, “Salt City” which has them channeling the “let’s party” vibe of Saxon, extolling the virtues of their hometown Salt Lake City. It’s all a bit manic and contrived, but even here you can tell the band is having a good time, and that counts for something.

This type of music is not for everyone. It helps if you were forged in the hellfire of eighties metal at its height. Loving a good (or even a bad) fantasy novel will also be a benefit. If you are in that subset of metalheads, though, then “Conqueror’s Oath” is a rocking good time.

Best tracks: Steel and Silver, Outlive Them All, Hammerforged, Traitor’s Gate, The Conqueror’s Oath

CD Odyssey Disc 1666: Luke Doucet

After over ten years of reviewing albums, there aren’t many artists that have been in the collection over that time that haven’t been randomly selected at least once. Yet that’s what happened for this next artist, who has been gracing the CD shelves since before I started the Odyssey with multiple records, but only just had their number called.

Disc 1666 is…Steel City Trawler

Artist: Luke Doucet and the White Falcon

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover?  White print on a black background, and a vaguely heraldic falcon in the centre.

This is the kind of simple design that makes for a good concert t-shirt. Bands that insist on putting their giant faces on their concert tees, please consider this approach instead.

How I Came To Know It: We heard Luke Doucet for the first time when he opened for Blue Rodeo somewhere in the mid-oughts. I forget the exact date, but a long time ago. We started buying his records at the same time, and by the time “Steel City Trawler” came out I was buying it just because it was the latest release.

How It Stacks Up: Not counting his later work in the band Whitehorse we have three of Luke Doucet’s solo albums. Of those three, “Steel City Trawler” comes in at #1.

Rating: 4 stars

Luke Doucet is ground zero for Canadian rock and roll. There’s something about made-in-Canada rock that makes you think vaguely of…folk. It isn’t folk, but it has a kind of folk vibe. Maybe its all those big rural spaces bands have to traverse in vans before becoming famous.

“Steel City Trawler” is Luke Doucet’s fourth and final album as a solo artist (he’s been Whitehorse with wife Melissa McLelland since then, the lucky bastard). It is his best work from that early period and shows his growth both as a singer and a songwriter. As for guitar, he’s always been good at that.

My favourite thing about “Steel City Trawler” is the range of styles Doucet incorporates into the record. “Hey Now” is a good example. It has an Archies fifties feel to it, mixed with a folksy guitar strum that has no business being in an Archies band. This is indie folk-rock at a time the genre was still finding its legs.

Doucet had found his legs long before, and there is a confidence in his songwriting and arrangements. It gives the album a bravado and helps it punch above its weight.

The album isn’t overly serious, and Doucet has plenty of fun as he ranges around the various facets of Canadiana rock. My favourite tune is “Dirty Dirty Blonde” which is a playful tune about a blonde woman who dies her hair as a brunette. Doucet turns all the tropes of blondes having more fun on their head. I love the riff on this tune, and the hook as well, but mostly I love how Doucet knows he’s onto something catchy and refuses to wait to launch into it. Forget lengthy A and B sections, he’s into the chorus within a couple of bars and back and forth we go from there. The song also has some delightfully “yoo hoo!” falsetto backing vocals which I strongly suspect are Doucet doing overdubs.

Showing his full Canadian credentials, Doucet also offers up a cover of the Gordon Lightfoot classic, “Sundown”. Having heard people genre-bust Gord in truly horrible, unconscionable ways (Stars on 54 covering “If You Could Read My Mind” being the worst of the worst) I was nervous about someone rocking up their Lightfoot. Fear not, gentle reader, Luke Doucet does Gord proud, with some smoky reverb reverie the Tragically Hip would be proud of, and a solid rock song constructed with the right amount of deference to the bones of the original.

Listening to as much new music as I do, it was a shock to the system to find this old friend on the CD shelf. I used to play this record a LOT, and revisiting it reminded me why. It is great stuff, and while I tend to reach for Whitehorse when I’m in the mood for Doucet’s guitar, “Steel City Trawler” is a reminder that he was already an established musician years before that whole scene ever happened.

Best tracks: Hey Now, Ballad of Ian Curtis, Sundown, Dirty Dirty Blonde, Love and a Steady Hand

CD Odyssey Disc 1665: Jarrod Dickenson

After a hard week, I woke up this morning feeling a bit worn down, but this next record sustained and restored me. I’m glad to share some thoughts on it with you, dear readers.

The record, not the week.

Disc 1665 is…The Lonesome Traveler

Artist: Jarrod Dickenson

Year of Release: 2012

What’s up with the Cover?  You don’t really associate trees with travelers, lonesome or otherwise. Trees do very little traveling. Maybe this tree is an ent and will at some point (after long deliberation) decide to become a lonesome traveler. Ents are all lonesome, you see, on account of having lost their entwives.

But I digress…

How I Came To Know It: I read a review at American Songwriter for Dickenson’s newest album, “Big Talk” released earlier this year. That led me to dig into his back catalogue, which is how we ended up here.

Finding the records proved difficult, however. They weren’t on Bandcamp, or Amazon and my local record store couldn’t order them in. Eventually, I bought them straight from Dickenson’s website.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Jarrod Dickenson albums, which I think is all of them. He is not terribly prolific. It is hard to rank them because I’ve only had them all for a few weeks and I’m still getting to know the other two. Based on early returns, I’m going to give “The Lonesome Traveler” the win – first place! I reserve the right to change my mind later.

Rating: 4 stars

Jarrod Dickenson is straight up Americana, no chaser. If you like your indie country music cask strength, then you’ve come to the right place.

On later records Dickenson branches out into some different sounds, but on “The Lonesome Traveler” he climbs up on that one vibe with enthusiasm and gives it a full ride. Do not expect unexpected chord progressions or jazzy interludes. Dickenson has some tales to tell, and he’s going to tell them frill-free.

I like my music stripped down like this, and it helps that Dickenson is a natural storyteller. There are times that he could apply a bit more specificity to his imagery (the specific is terrific) but I forgave the sometimes-obvious language. This was easy to do, as Dickenson may not break a ton of new ground, but he sings with earnestness and honesty.

The record opens with “Ain’t Waiting Any Longer” a slightly schmaltzy tune about asking a woman to marry him. It is a bit too mainstream radio country for my tastes, but it is so happy it is hard not to fall under the spell.

After this apparent effort to write a hit, Dickenson gets into the good stuff. “The Northern Sea” is worthy entry into the long list of songs that laud the hard, dangerous work of the commercial fisherman. This one reminded me a lot of Billy Joel’s “Downeaster Alexa” but without all the production. There are a couple of places where I felt I could write a better line of poetry, but I’m a sucker for fisherman tales (I was a fisherman myself one summer), and this one ticked all the boxes.

“Rosalie” is a beautiful love song, and features Dickenson’s best vocal performance. His tone has a very light gravel in it which helps with the storytelling aspect of his music, but on “Rosalie” he adds a hint of hurt in the head voice. It isn’t a ton of range, but it is the right amount and serves the song.

“Rosalie” also introduces Dickenson’s other weapon – his work on the acoustic guitar. Dickenson has a light touch and sounds 80% country with a hint of bluegrass giving it some jump. I could listen to it for days. I did, in fact.

The best guitar work on the record is the final song, “Seasons Change” a song Dickenson wrote in honour of his grandfather, Homer Dickenson (the whole album is dedicated to Homer and grandmother Margaret). If listening to Dickenson pluck this tune of love and devotion doesn’t make your heart blossom you should see your cardiologist.

Across the whole record the arrangement and production is restrained, with plenty of space and air to let the songs breathe and the individual players showcase their skills. On each listen I discovered a new way to approach the song – now the voice, now the guitar, now the piano. It was restful and sublime.

On balance, this was a thoroughly enjoyable discovery and leaves me excited to dive deeper into his other records as well.

Best tracks: The Northern Sea, Rosalie, I Remember June, Come What May, the Lonesome Traveler, Seasons Change

CD Odyssey Disc 1664: The Band

I’m pretty damned tired after a long day of work and would like nothing more than to sit catatonic on the couch and not write this review. But if I did that, I would be stuck with this record for another day, and fatigue be damned, for that I cannot abide.

Disc 1664 is…Music from Big Pink

Artist: The Band

Year of Release: 1968

What’s up with the Cover?  Here’s an idea – the next time you do an album named after the iconic house you recorded the album in, maybe just put a picture of the house on the cover?

This looks like The Band went back in time to when they were all toddlers and let them paint their future album cover.

Just kidding. This childlike monstrosity was actually painted by Bob Dylan. I wish I was kidding about that as well but alas, Bob really was responsible.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve known an iconic song off this album for years, and its reputation preceded it. Then I watched a solid documentary on the Band and in a moment of weakness bought this record and one other.

How It Stacks Up: I have two albums by The Band (but not for long). Of the two, “Music from Big Pink” comes in at #2. Both are leaving my collection shortly after I click “post”.

Rating: 2 stars and I’m being charitable

“Music from Big Pink” is a record that warbles its way between self-indulgent moaning and unfocused hippy bullshit. I don’t know how I was once far enough under the spell of The Band to buy one of their records, let alone two, but consider me cured.

Yeah, yeah. This is one of the iconic records of the late sixties, and when I watched the 2019 documentary “Once Were Brothers” about the Band I was temporarily swayed by its very memorable hit, and the reputation of the group’s musicianship.

That hit is “The Weight” and I still love this song. At one time I could even play it on guitar. The blending of the various vocals (mostly Levon Helm and Rick Danko) is sublime and despite this song having a hippy vibe I would come to hate on the rest of this record, it feels free and easy in the best way possible. You’ll feel a bit unfocused and lazy, but you’ll like the experience. This is a song for hitchhiking across the USA in a fringed leather jacket and an ironic cowboy hat. Maybe sandals as well, or maybe bare feet. Anyway, the song is great fun, both to play and to listen to.

Also passable is the cover of “Long Black Veil” but it isn’t anything special Danko does with the vocals (if anything it plods a little). It’s just that the song is so unassailably brilliant. But if you want to listen to it and only have room for one version, go with the Johnny Cash. This one is just…OK.

Not OK is the rest of this record, which sounds like what it is – a bunch of talented musicians getting high on their own supply after being cooped up in a house (apparently a pink one) for too many consecutive days. Yeah, they are talented, and they have a sneaky way to sound sloppy with each other while artfully playing around with the timing. That’s clever enough, but just because I could recite a poem in Morse code by turning the lights on and off wouldn’t make it fun for whoever was in the room.

In this case, I was the person in the room, subjected to each member of the band nodding sagaciously to whatever groove their compatriots were putting down, before dropping a riff or a beat or a run on the organ as the mood strikes them. Do they come in late? No. Early? No. They are all right in time, but it is still manages to end up a hot mess. Look at the Band play, ladies and gentlemen! Revel in their innovation! Just don’t expect to enjoy yourself.

There are so many frustrating masturbatory moments on the record, although I think the organ solo on “Chest Fever” is the worst of all. This song even has a passable hook, but the Band aren’t content to explore that. They need to sail off into some self-referential echo chamber. I can’t tell if they are deliberately drinking their own bathwater, or they are just so deep into the groove that they are creating this stuff accidentally through inadvertent and mis-applied genius. I think it’s the latter.

At least four of the Band take on lead vocals at some time or other, and I was amazed how they all annoyed me in unique and innovative ways. There are high pitched wails, and mid-range warbles and various call-and-answer moments, none of which (except on the aforementioned “The Weight”) gave me any joy.

I recognize that in having this reaction I am offside with the vast majority of music critics, music listeners and the very history of modern music itself. So be it. I can’t pretend to like this just because it is supposed to be good.

Not only am I getting rid of this record, I’m getting rid of their self-titled follow-up as well. It is better, but since I got these records three years ago I’ve never put either on, and now I realize I never will. Instead I’ll pass them both along to someone who likes it a lot better than I did. They won’t be hard to find.

Best tracks: The Weight, Long Black Veil