CD Odyssey Disc 1873: Courtney Barnett

At the end of a long day, there is always music. Here’s some that helped chill me out on a Tuesday evening.

Disc 1873 is… Things Take Time, Take Time

Artist: Courtney Barnett

Year of Release: 2021

What’s up with the Cover? Nine shades of blue paint. I’m not sure what the significance of this is, but I think the cover would’ve been better if someone had used those nine shades of blue paint to, you know, paint something.

I’m not picky about what to paint. The sky, the ocean, Smurfs, Dr. Manhattan. Something. There are plenty of options.

How I Came To Know It: I have been a Courtney Barnett fan from her early days, so this was just me buying her latest and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Courtney Barnett albums, if you count the one that is technically two EPs taped together, which – in a move wholly counter to my decision with the band the Beaches – I do. “Things Take Time, Take Time” comes in at #2 out of those four.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Things Take Time, Take Time” is Courtney Barnett’s version of looking on the bright side. Relatively speaking. Don’t look for upbeat sunshine and good vibes all over the place, though. Barnett’s signature minor chord laden and down-dropping melodic style remains fully intact, and there’s plenty of drama to be had on the relationship front. It’s just a titch…happier.

Longtime readers will know that when I reviewed her previous record, “Tell Me How You Really Feel” (Disc 1217) her dirge-ridden style was good, but ultimately weighed me down. On “Things Take Time…” she delivers the same powerful and thoughtful musical mood rock, but with just enough brightness around the edges to keep up the momentum.

The result is a record that was a pleasant surprise. There isn’t anything special going on in the guitar work, but I love Barnett’s tone, which plays like the lean of a lazy motorcyclist, taking each corner nice and wide, but in full control throughout.

I found this record restful. Songs like “Here’s the Thing” are like a nice sit on a couch after a hard day, right before you put on the telly, when you’re still just enjoying the space, all homey and quiet and ready to receive and relieve your tension. Mirroring the guitar vibe on the song, Barnett’s usual flat low vocal delivery gives way to a light head voice that surprises and soothes.

My favourite track on the record is “Before You Gotta Go” a song that says both “I love you” and “I’m sorry” in such an artfully intertwined way you wanna just die from all the romance. Two warring concepts like that could make for a song that feels tense and uncertain, but Barnett applies a wise and easygoing vibe to the moment.

The song is aided by a very light production, with just a bit of reverb on the guitar and a bit of echo on the vocal. It creates a diffusion that takes the edge off of lyrics like:

“We got angry, said some careless things
Who was wrong, remains unclear
Pride like poison, always keepin' score
You don't have to slam the door”

And replaces it with a “hey, we’re angry, but let’s not be so angry we regret ourselves” feel. There is some angry storming out featured here, but there’s also a persistence to the relationship – a weak but strong quality that feels like emotional gravity. And while the song builds its energy and insistence as it progresses it never feels aggressive. A bit resigned, and with no guarantee that there is going to be a rapprochement, but still breathing enough oxygen into the situation that it could be possible.

Songs like “Take It Day By Day” have the emotionally distant but catchy phrasing that made her famous from earlier records, and the “old friend” experience of that in these tracks is welcome, maybe the more so when it is mixed with the chill “que sera sera” quality of the tunes that surround it.

Most of all I found myself regretting not putting this record on more often, because it was thoroughly delightful and filled with a thoughtful chill vibe. Barnett’s not saying everything’s going to be OK on this record, but she is saying that bad moments are easier managed when you eschew being battered by them in favour of letting them wash over you.

Best tracks: Rae Street, Here’s the Thing, Before You Gotta Go, Take It Day By Day, If I Don’t Hear From You Tonight

CD Odyssey Disc 1872: The Beaches

Welcome to a bonus content review, wherein Your Humble Author both provides a review a studio album (as per our longstanding social contract) and also some thoughts on a live show in support of same. If you just want the review, it follows immediately. If you just want the concert review scroll down past the review.

But don’t do that. Get the full benefit of your primary school education and show those studies about the internet destroying your ability to focus who’s boss. Read the words.

Disc 1872 is… No Hard Feelings

Artist: The Beaches

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? The actual cover for this album is a close up of a woman wearing a white bra, nipple shining through the fabric like a dark star. Not that half-nip that Prince teased us with back at Disc 1833. Full – albeit diffused – nip. I have no strong knowledge of content expectations on either of the platforms this review will appear on, but I’m going to err on the side of caution, so if you want the actual cover you can see it on this Wikipedia page.

Instead I offer you this (not very) exclusive viewing of…the back cover! Yes, proof positive I actually own the album.

This should totally have been the cover, and it shows the four members of the Beaches evoking a “coolest girls at the party” vibe. Which is exactly what they are.

How I Came To Know It: I have been a fan of the Beaches since 2018, when my friend Nick said, “hey, there’s this pretty cool band called the Beaches playing a show in town – want to go?”

I did go I’ve been going to their shows and buying their records ever since. Thanks, Nick!

How It Stacks Up: I have either four studio albums and three EPs, or three studio albums and four EPs (it’s complicated). Due to precedent established on earlier reviews, I go with the 3-4 over the 4-3 for…reasons. Of three studio albums “No Hard Feelings” comes in second out of three.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

The Beaches know how to make great music, and they’ve been doing it for a long time. I was excited to dive into “No Hard Feelings” but on my first listen I wasn’t sure I was going to like it. They have definitely continued to move away from their earlier sound into what I feared would be a more “generic” approach. However, multiple listens won me over – aided by a well-timed live show (more on that later).

“No Hard Feelings” deploys the Beaches’ most complex arrangements yet, which is not always a feature, as I favour stripped down production over a lot of layers. I found myself initially wanting a little less going on. However, after multiple listens the top-notch songwriting (lyrically and melodically) won me over. It also helped to get a couple rounds in on headphones. Free of the background growl of my car engine, I was better able to catch the nuance and creativity I think the band was going for.

Thematically, the Beaches love to dig into relationships, and a lot of their best stuff explores the ones that didn’t work out. All those break ups must be trying for the band members, but they sure know how to convert all that drama into great songs.

They’re also not afraid to explore the not-great choices that can happen during a breakup. Nasty “I hate all the things about you” lyrics on “Can I Call You in the Morning?” are paired nicely with Jordan Miller literally singing to herself immediately prior “Don’t do it, Jordan don’t do it.” Of course she does, which is both raw in the moment and brave after it, and results in a great song.

While the record has LOTS of break up/party songs (and ‘party after a break up’ songs that do both), the Beaches are more than just party girls. “Lesbian of the Year” is a thoughtful and vulnerable exploration coming out later in life that grounds and “quietens” the record at just the moment that’s needed.

Whatever the song, the vocals of Jordan Miller continue to star. Throaty, playful and totally unique, she has a talent for phrasing and emoting that ensures that every emotionally complex song on the record, despite all the production bells and whistles, will still make you feel the feels.

In the end, “No Hard Feelings” is a master class of how to make a fun album full of party-oriented music without ever shying away from the darker side of why we sometimes party a little too late, drink a little too much, or shout a little too loud. It isn’t easy to have a great time while still 100% owning your shit, but the Beaches have the formula down, and once again we – their audience – are the beneficiaries.

Best tracks: Can I Call You in the Morning?, I Wore You Better, Dirty Laundry, Lesbian of the Year, Jocelyn

The Concert: October 25, 2025, Save-On-Foods Memorial Arena, Victoria BC

This was my fifth time seeing the Beaches live, so I already knew what to expect in terms of their high energy, brilliant showmanship and talented musicianship.

We arrived early for the merch table, and a good thing we did, as the lineup was enormous. I love a good concert tee so while I held our place in line, Sheila went forward armed with phone to take a photo of the options. This is a good strategy if you want to avoid being a slack-jawed gawker when you finally get to the front (n.b. – you want this).

In this case, it allowed Sheila and I to assess that none of the options struck our fancy. I now have a LOT of concert tees, and I am becoming more picky. Tees that just feature a photo of the band are generally out, and that’s most of what was on offer.

Fortunately, I already have two Beaches concert tees, including a very old “original logo” one that I was wearing, secretly hoping someone would say “wow – cool old tee shirt” or failing that, that I’d overhear someone whispering, “wow – that guy has a cool old concert tee.” These hopes overlooked the fact that as a middle aged man at a concert full of the Youngs, I was mostly invisible. Whatever – I was the only one wearing it so…go me.

Anyway, we bailed on the merch and instead stood around in the common area people watching for a while, before taking our seats.

Valley

The opening band was another Toronto band called “Valley” which does music in the same general genre of the Beaches. Sheila (who, unlike me, listens to the radio) said that she knew some of the songs from there. According to the Internet, Valley was even nominated for a Juno (Canadian Grammy) in 2025. So, neat.

Anyway, Valley played inoffensive and occasionally catchy pop tunes that are exactly what I expect from the radio when it is having a good day, but also why I don’t listen to it. It felt like what you’d hear younger kids playing around their campfire next to you at the beach. Not offensive, and it could have been worse, but just OK.

The set notably improved for the one song where main vocalist Rob Laska turned the mic over to bandmate Karah James (sorry, Rob), but that was only for one song.

Valley had good energy overall, and I bopped along, but about halfway through I knew I would not be exploring their music further later, which is the main goal of any opening act.

The Beaches

The Beaches took the stage as they always do, with energy already dialed all the way up to ten. This was their first ever indoor stadium show as a headliner (they’d come to town opening for The Glorious Sons in 2018, but I’d already seen them live earlier that year as a headliner, and so I skipped that show. Also, I find the Glorious Sons very ‘not glorious’).

Any concerns that the stage would be too for them was instantly dispelled. This quartet of talent has been doing the live show thing for over a decade and all that experience and dedication has paid off. Everything they do that is awesome – the banter, the moves, the tight yet organic performance - translated 100% to the bigger stage. I generally do not like stadium live shows, but the Beaches did things up right.

The set was predominantly songs from their last two albums, and as I noted in the album review above, hearing the new album performed live I realized that it was written with this partly in mind. It elevated those songs and made me appreciate the new record in a way I hadn’t before. That’s the mission of the headliner and…mission accomplished.

It even rehabilitated their overexposed hit, “Blame Brett” which I thought I had heard enough time for a while at this point. Instead, with the lights and the crowd participation and the delivery, the joy of this catchy bit of pop magic was reborn. A true stadium banger.

Everyone in the band is a natural on stage, but none more so than frontwoman Jordan Miller who had the audience in the palm of her hands throughout and clearly loved and fed off the experience.

The Beaches are pretty strict about sticking to their new material, and this show heavily featured songs from their last two records, but they did a special section “just for our Canadian fans” of old songs. I’ve never seen them do this before and hearing early tunes, including some of my favourites from 2017’s “The Late Show” (concert and album reviewed at Disc 1131) was a special treat. They updated the delivery, so I wasn’t hearing a staid performance of old tunes, but rather a reimagined delivery of tunes with bones so strong they sound good through any treatment.

It was also fun when Leandra Earl dedicated “Sorry for Your Loss” the LA Dodgers, while wearing a Blue Jays jersey. Lest you wonder where the loyalty of these Toronto gals lay in the ongoing World Series.

The show opened and closed with their latest banger, “Last Girls at the Party” and that’s exactly what the Beaches are. They are also the life of the party, and if you get a chance to see them live, you should do it. If you skip the opportunity, well then – as band member Leandra would say – I’m so sorry for your loss.

CD Odyssey Disc 1871: Edan

Before I get started a quick apology for my last review, wherein readers have pointed out that I mistakenly referred to Cheekface as Cake not once…but twice. What the hell? Similar does not equal same. I also apologize to Cheekface, an excellent band that does not deserve such obvious copy edit oversight. I have since corrected that entry.

OK, let’s do better.

Disc 1871 is… Primitive Plus

Artist: Edan

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? One interpretation of this cover is that this robot has been programmed to walk the dog. One boring interpretation.

Another interpretation would be that this robot was designed to “learn” from its human owners, but ultimately murdered them, after an ill-fated family movie night where it failed to understand the “pretend” nature of a sci fi film selected by the youngest son. Now, alone in the house (apart from the battered corpses of the former occupants) it is caught in a logic loop mimicking their previous behaviours.

Here we see it walking the dog on a winter morning. The neighbours thought it was quite a nifty spectacle until, ten days later, it was dragging the now dead dog around like it was still alive. The police were called in, the mayhem uncovered, and a very wide recall of JIROK home robots (and subsequent class action lawsuit) were all quick to follow.

But I digress…

How I Came To Know It: I read about this album on a “top” album list of some kind that has since been lost in the mists of time. I decided to see for myself if it deserved such accolades. Turns out, it did.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Edan albums, and “Primitive Plus” is the best.

Ratings: 4 stars

Edan (aka Edan Portnoy) likes words, and dude knows a lot of them. The Maryland rapper has a density of language that is rivaled by very few. MF Doom comes to mind, but otherwise this is about as densely packed a bale of rhymes as you are likely to find.

A heavy dose of rhyme does not a great emcee make, however, at least not on its own. You need to have flow, and your words have to be going somewhere.

Here things became harder to decipher. “Primitive Plus” came at me so fast I wasn’t at first sure if it was brilliant or just clever for clever’s sake. Ultimately, it is brilliant. At first things are moving along so fast you wonder what the point of it all is. Then you realize that underneath all those verbal gymnastics is a rapidly moving kaleidoscope of imagery that may not always be telling a story but IS always painting a picture.

Edan raps so fast on this record that it feels like he never takes a breath. Of course, that’s impossible, and it is just his lily-pad leap style that constantly tiptoes forward that makes it feel like that way. The break is just so hidden in the flow you gotta listen for it.

His style evokes the coolest skinny kid in normcore clothes in school. Nerd central yes, but nerdism turned on its head to be the hippest thing you’ve ever heard. His mid-Atlantic accent curls around his delivery and draws out vowels in a way that helps hold your attention through the soup of multisyllabic wordplay. That wordplay is a torrent of rhyme. If there is a record out there that has as many words per minute as “Primitive Plus” I can’t think of it.

From a beat perspective, Edan combines samples from early rap masters like Eric B. and Rakim with a muesli of thumps, beeps and sproings that break most rules of what should be fun to listen to and somehow still works.

Underneath it all, Edan has written a love letter to early rap. It isn’t remotely your dad’s rap music, but it borrows heavily from the themes and structures of that early sound, even to the point where its main theme is that age-old original approach – rapping about how well he can rap.

He takes the flows of that previous time and turns them on their head, then injects them with aluminum and quicksilver and sets them dancing. It isn’t evolution so much as a cyborg implant. Part organic, part robot, and manic as all get out.

Of the million lines that caught my attention in Edan’s endless flow I’ll end by sharing just one that best sums it all up:

“Silver surfer on the cerebellum.”

The Power Cosmic indeed, but here the intergalactic travel all happens between your ears.

Best tracks: One Man Arsenal, Humble Magnificent, Emcees Smoke Crack, #1 Hit Record, Primitive Plus, You Suck, Run That Shit!,

CD Odyssey Disc 1870: Cheekface

Before we delve into today’s review a few words of reflection on rock legend Ace Frehley, original (and best) guitarist for KISS. Frehley died earlier this week, leave a sadness in my heart that needs expressing

The first record I ever bought (by any artist) was “Destroyer” which was the beginning of a long (and continuing) love affair with KISS that included mailing away to join the KISS Army (you got biographies and a KISS Army T-shirt in addition to membership. It was a pretty cool thing to show up in a little kid’s mailbox).

Back then I was obsessed with frontman Paul Stanley and the showmanship of Gene Simmons. Frehley was a distant third. This did not last, however, and as I got older I saw Frehley more and more for what he was – the heart and soul of the band, with his strident spaceman guitar riffs grounding what could otherwise very easily descend into theatre (and kind of did after he left).

Frehley was the best of KISS. His remains the best of the four solo albums the band released in 1978 (read the review way back at Disc 94) and while I don’t have any of his later albums fronting his own band, I’ve heard plenty of good tracks off them.

Through his life Frehley battled many a demon (yes, I went there) but at the core all he ever wanted was to rock and roll. I’ll miss him.

On to the review.

Disc 1870 is… Middle Spoon

Artist: Cheekface

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? An invasive rock dove (aka a pigeon) enjoying its natural food source in the urban jungle – discarded fries.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a fan of Cheekface since 2021, and this was just me buying their latest record.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Cheekface albums, of which “Middle Spoon” is the most recently released. “Middle Spoon” comes in…fourth. It isn’t bad, but competition is tough.

Ratings: 3 stars

Cheekface returns with “Middle Spoon” their fourth album in five years and if you are wondering if they remain as ironic, detached and full of clever lyrics with an undercurrent of social commentary the answer is…yes! This band knows what they do well, and as they enter the middle years of their career they continue to stick with it.

When you first listen to “Middle Spoon” it would be easy to just tap your feet and sing along, reveling in vocalist/lyricist Greg Katz’s clever wordplay at a surface level. This is OK, and also rather easy, given Katz deploys a spoken word delivery that requires no verbal gymnastics to keep up.

However, despite hooks that are consistently brilliant, Cheekface is more than just good times, as they explore dark content through the unlikely vehicle of ebullient pop ditties.

The best example (and best song on the record) is “Living Lo-Fi”, a song that is catchy as hell, starting with a beat-forward fun organ bit and then hitting a chorus that is both energetic and even passably danceable. It also starts with Cheekface’s greatest weapon: off-kilter and clever lyrics. In this case, we start with:

“Cigarettes can kill you
But if they don’t they make you stronger.”

Not great self-care advice but, you know, funny.

But before too long we are descending into what it is like to live on the edge (or under the edge) of poverty. “Living Lo-Fi” isn’t something to aspire to, it’s something to see around you every day as you drive past tent cities and it is seriously not funny. And that’s Cheekface.

There are plenty of quotable lines on “Middle Spoon” and the level of content in that regard is as strong as any of their previous records, but overall the record is a slight step backward musically.

Yes, there are still great hook-riddled tunes like “Living Lo-Fi” and “Flies” and “Growth Sux” but there are also songs that do the inevitable when you’re walking line this thick with irony – you cross over into kitsch.

The worst offender on the album is “Content Baby” which I believe is about social media content or something. I’m not sure. Yeah, I know you’re probably reading this one of two social media-adjacent platforms but trust me when I say I am at the very shallow end of that lake.

That said, I know a forced metaphor when I hear one, and lines like “treat me like your content baby/you have my consent to share me” are darlings that should have died on the studio floor.

This gets to the heart of the hairpin turn Cheekface’s music attempts to navigate at high speeds. They are very much about pointing out the plastic, hollowed-out aspects of modern culture, and the inherent ickiness of some of its worst features. But as a band that riffs off Nietzsche quotes would know, when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

On previous albums Cheekface does a better job of orbiting that event horizon. On “Middle Spoon” they get sucked in a couple of times, but overall this record is still good solid fun…and not fun…which is exactly what you want in a Cheekface record.

Best tracks: Living Lo-Fi, Flies, Growth Sucks

CD Odyssey Disc 1869: Ice Cube

From a gentle journey through Oklahoma folk we head over to the mean streets of Compton. Say what you will about American music, but it’s got range.

Disc 1869 is… Lethal Injection

Artist: Ice Cube

Year of Release: 1993

What’s up with the Cover? Someone is receiving a lethal injection…of sound!

This record features a song with George Clinton so maybe, to quote Parliament, this is a literal depiction of “doing it to you in your earholes”. In any event it does not look like a healthy way to either a) get an injection or b) listen to music.

How I Came To Know It: Just digging through Ice Cube’s early years after I found him via N.W.A. This all happened relatively recently, so I make no claims to long-time fandom.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Ice Cube albums. I like them all but one of them has to be last, and “Lethal Injection” is it.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

Ice Cube is at his best when he’s angry. Whether he’s playing a foul-mouthed movie character (21 Jump Street, Fist Fight) or just spitting some rhymes, Cube is just better when he’s bubbling over.

Cube’s anger tends to manifest in exceptional flow, but it is also where he is more likely to say hurtful things. This is fine by me, as I’m very hard to offend. However, if you don’t want your art to feature hurtful often offensive statements (varied, numerous and often uncalled-for) then you should not explore “Lethal Injection” because it has plenty of them. You’ve been warned.

OK, disclaimers aside, we can talk about the good, the bad and the ugly of this Ice Cube album which does not enjoy a lot of love as his earlier records and frankly, isn’t as good. That’s OK, as those early records are amazing and there is lots of room to fall and still land on solid ground.

The good on this record is Cube doing his deep, deliberate pocket-perfect style. Every rhyme is enunciated with fell intent like he’s daring you to interrupt him, but know you won’t because it would be a crime to slow that flow. You may want to limit yourself to the less offensive songs but remember the disclaimer above – that won’t work. If you want Ice Cube, then that’s Mr. Jackson when he’s nasty.

That last sentence was an overly fond-of-itself reference that is a darling in need of killing. I’m so sorry I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Onward!

The bad is when Ice Cube tries on different styles that don’t match his flow, opting for more of a Snoop Dogg or Nice n’ Smooth vibe. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but mostly it had me pining for the hard-spitting flow I had grown to know and love on previous records. I don’t expect artists to never try anything new, but they don’t have to expect me to like it either.

The ugly, and the one song that held this record below the 3-star line was the eleven minute monstrosity, “Bop Gun (One Nation)”. Borrowing from Parliament, and even featuring the legendary George Clinton himself, this song had everything it needed to be good but still managed to fail, mostly because it commits the cardinal sin of being…boring. For a better blend of Parliament-style funk and rap I recommend “Psycobetabuckdown” which is more fun, more dynamic, and even if you don’t like it, is over in just under three minutes.

I was chastened to realize that “Bop Gun (One Nation)” is the source of a highlight I referenced in my concert review of saw Ice Cube last year, with the chant of “party over here – f*** you over there”. Unlike most of that show, this is one of the moments where the live version was better.

For a full recap of that Ice Cube show (and how he fared against folk singer – yes folk singer – Katie Pruitt) check out my concert review here.

Lyrically, there is still magic on “Lethal Injection” and I enjoyed references to the GI Joe with the kung fu grip (had one), and the clever effort to rhyme “Bosnia-Herzogovina” which works, mostly. Cube has a natural feel for the pocket that few emcees can rival, and so even when some songs fall a little short, his delivery lifts them up again.

“Lethal Injection” is not a must-have in Ice Cube’s discography but it has its moments. After no small amount of deliberation, I’ve decided it remains shelf-worthy.

Best tracks: Really Doe; What Can I Do?

CD Odyssey Disc 1868: Ken Pomeroy

Up early and (as usual) feeling inspired by the power of music. Whether today finds you distraught or down or uncertain, or joyful, hopeful and inspired I can assure you, there’s a song for that. Go put it on. But first, read this music review.

Disc 1868 is… Cruel Joke

Artist: Ken Pomeroy

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Ken Pomeroy in the flesh. Well, actually it is just a photo, but Pomeroy’s gaze is so powerful and immanent, it’s like she’s in the room with you, staring into your soul.

That place of raw exploration and discomfort is where art lives, and if you are intrigued by the experience the cover offers, you’re going to love the music inside even more.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of her on a website I’m partial to called Americana Highways. If you like folk, country and americana music, then Americana Highways is a great place to discover bands you might not read about on bigger music platforms.

You can also do that right here on “A Creative Maelstrom”, of course.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Ken Pomeroy record, but I have a feeling I’m going to have a long and fulfilling relationship with her music for years to come.

Ratings: 5 stars

Growing up in rural coastal British Columbia, I take solace in the closeness of dense coastal rainforests, jagged inlets and lush understory. Ken Pomeroy’s music features none of those things, but hearing her paint pictures of the quiet solitude of the Oklahoma plains and foothills, I felt blanketed by the same soothing, contemplative spirit. Or put simply, this record will you chill you out and make you think.

Pomeroy straddles the line between folk and country, which is the perfect vehicle to deliver songs that are intensely personal, and grounded in natural space and place that puts substance and gravitas to her self-exploration. Like all great works of art, “Cruel Joke” taps into something that makes the personal into the universal.

If you are looking for experimental sounds and new melodic structures, you won’t find that here. You’ll get similar song structures on any number of other singer-songwriters out there, but like anything, it is all in the execution.

Pomeroy’s vocals have sneaky range, climbing high and bright, or descending into a low register whisper. Whatever serves the song. I haven’t heard someone instinctually manage a vocal with such deliberate ease since Heather Maloney did it ten years earlier on “Making Me Break” (reviewed at Disc 1200 and also a 5-star record).

Pomeroy is no slouch on the acoustic guitar either, again not engaged in any Django Reinhart level innovation, but just playing with grace and feeling that lets you sit down into a song and let it take you on a journey.

Lyrically, this record is not only compelling at the individual song level, but Pomeroy goes a step further, weaving common imagery through the record that makes the full listen a journey bigger than each tune.

Featured prominently are images of coyotes, wolves, and dogs. The common use of canine imagery allows Pomeroy to move from the wild to the domestic and back again all the while internalizing each animal into her own state of mind.

On “Pareidolia” the coyote walks against the wind, capturing the spirit of feeling wild but constrained at the same time. Pomeroy blends this natural imagery with everyday rural experiences like “talking about money” and “switching to flats,” even that last image connecting footwear to a broader exploration of her environment. Even the concept of pareidolia –seeing faces or images in random places like clouds – speaks to the interconnection of the human experience with the natural one.

On “Wrango” Pomeroy writes a love song to her dog. I’m a cat person and I’m even a little bit scared of dogs but listening to “Wrango” I loved that dog. “Wrango” features some of Pomeroy’s sweetest vocals and guitar picking, and lyrics like “I’ll turn off the bedroom light/’Cause that sparkle in your eyes is bright enough to light the sky” that will melt your heart.

“Coyote” is a duet features the considerable talents of fellow Oklahoman John Moreland, and the nexus of the thematic blend of animal and emotion. Evocative lyrics like:

“Honey look out for the coyote
Sleuthing around the hens
Meet him with a stare and don’t turn away
If you don’t he’ll be back again”

On the surface is advice on keeping your chickens safe, but more deeply it is confronting your inner self, with all the strengths and the faults you’ll find there, and not turning away. Like the cover of the album, it’s an intense stare that rewards you if you have the strength to hold it and let it take you where, deep down, you know you need to go.

I’ve listened to this record a half dozen times, and on each run through, I find a new layer of exploration. Where Pomeroy is drawn to earth and big sky my West Coast mind goes to the sea as my equivalent, her music drawing me out into deeper water to the point that my feet can no longer touch the bottom, but where the surrender to that expanse is freeing and restorative.

Best tracks: all tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1867: Olivia Jean

I’ve been so busy of late my music acquisitions have slowed considerably, but fear not – there is no danger of the Odyssey running out of content anytime soon. On that note, here’s the first of three albums I own by this artist.

Disc 1867 is… Bathtub Love Killings

Artist: Olivia Jean

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover? Our fearless heroine confronts her doppelganger as they lay in parallel hammocks, dueling through the eyes. Each no doubt thinking “if I were to drown her in a bathtub, would I also drown?”

The Olivia on the right looks like she’d be willing to risk it.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of her 2019 album “Night Owl” which led me to her back catalogue. Which is…this.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Olivia Jean albums and I’ll put this one in at…#2.

Ratings: 3 stars

When it comes to having the cool factor, there’s none more cool than Olivia Jean. Pinup girl meets rock and roll goddess, Jean’s music is fresh and fascinating and while it sometimes falls short, it is never from lack of trying.

Jean’s ambition to do something new with something old is an instinct she wears on her sleeve. While there is lots of decades-old rock and roll tropes on “Bathtub Love Killings” Jean puts the twist on them at every opportunity. These are songs that feel like they would be heard late in the evening at an Andy Warhol party, but by a time travelling superspy.

Wait a minute? Am I just describing an Austin Powers’ movie? Let’s pretend that didn’t happen and move on…

“Bathtub Love Killings” is produced by Jack White and his influence is evident in the riff-forward guitar work and melodies that thump you over the head with their abrupt power.

“Mistakes” gets us off with a bang in exactly this style, with a tinkling three notes following by a blast of guitar that somehow creates the most unlikely (but pleasant) hook. This song also shows off Jean’s talent for phrasing, which makes up for (and sometimes masks) a vocal that is good, but is never going to blow any doors down. She’s about precision, not power.

After this, we get the coquettish “Merry Widow” which on first blush seems fun until you realize it is about a woman in underwear that is designed for appearance not comfort, and who is wearing it for all the wrong reasons. It isn’t the best song on the record, but I like the way its theme sneaks up on you. Would pair well with St. Vincent’s “Savior” for all these reasons.

On “Green Honeycreeper” we get one of several funky basslines on the record. It’s a great groove, but the vocals feel a bit flat. I think it is a deliberate artistic decision to give it an out of sorts mood, but that doesn’t mean I liked it.

While Bathtub Love Killings always orbits around a pinup sensibility (often turned on its head, as in “Merry Widow”) it still manages to show a lot of stylistic range. Sometimes these songs are pure rockers, and other times they are sixties-inspired bubblegum pop. On “Haunt Me” Jean manages to blend both sounds with a bit of late sixties country music for good measure.

“Haunt Me” also benefits from an inspired ‘traditional’ hook, and Jean’s best vocal performance. The song’s structure lets her show off her mad phrasing skills, and the tune hangs in that part of her head voice that lets the sweetness of her tone show off. It isn’t a song requiring power, but rather nuance, and that’s the territory where Olivia Jean excels.

There are a couple songs that have a bit too much of Jack White’s fingerprints, notably “December” which is a good song but feels more like him than her. Maybe they are just similar in style anyway, but it is a little too close, and despite being 100% written by Jean, I would’ve liked this one with less Jack vibes, and more go-go dancing vibes.

The record’s range is sometimes its downfall, simply because Olivia Jean is never afraid to explore a new approach. Sometimes these songs feel more like an experiment than a decision to pick a sound that best serves the song. These songs are ear-candy to the cynical music critic looking to be surprised, but sometimes I just want a coffee, and not a pumpkin spiced latte.

Before I depart, a shout out to Jean’s musicianship, which is top notch. She plays multiple instruments on the record and is excellent at all of them. There is a lot of talent on display throughout all aspects of the album, from the songwriting, to the arrangements, and the delivery. While all the experimentation leaves things uneven, it hits more often than it misses.

Best tracks: Mistakes, Reminisce, Haunt Me, Excuses, Deadly Hex

CD Odyssey Disc 1866: Cory Hanson

I was up a bit earlier on a Saturday than usual, mostly because of the two new kittens we adopted last night. They didn’t wake me up (they are very polite for kittens), I was just excited.

Disc 1866 is… “I Love People”

Artist: Cory Hanson

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? This is not the cover - The actual cover is a photo of Hanson (also in a suit) in the centre of a gunsight. What is above is a picture of Cory Hanson from his Bandcamp profile. If you want to view the actual cover (and/or buy the album - which is awesome - visit Hanson's Bandcamp site here. 

As for this rare "go find it yourself" moment, maybe I just needed a break from violent imagery on a Saturday morning in a house newly full of kittens. Or maybe I thought I'd provide a "trigger warning" before you decide if you want to go contemplate the cover on your own. If you are OK with viewing the image I've described, go take a look and then read my thoughts below. If you are not OK, then just skip to "How I Came To Know It" and carry on from there.

...

For readers who decided to take a look, you may have also noted that the title of the album is in quotes. Is Cory Hanson quoting himself or is he suggesting that deep down he doesn’t really love people at all? Or, given that the person in the sights of the scope is Hanson himself, maybe he’s suggesting a lack of self-love?

Whatever the case, the combination of the aggressive graphic and the passive aggressive punctuation leads one to thinking, which is maybe the intent here.

How I Came To Know It: I already knew I liked Hanson from his previous album, 2023’s “Western Cum” (more about that when I roll it). This led me to check out his latest when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Cory Hanson albums and if you’ve been diligently reading, you already know which two. I like them both, but I’m here to stack, not equivocate. I’ll put “I Love People” at #1.

Ratings: 4 stars

“I Love People” is less a statement of philanthropy, and more a question posed by Cory Hanson to himself. Does he love people, or are they more a confusing mix of good, bad and just animal instincts? Or is he asking these questions about himself, and everything external is a that same question reflecting back in different lights? There are a lot of layers to this onion, and Hanson is here to peel them back and divine the resulting patterns for meaning.

Before we get into that, let’s note that for those of you who like the psychedelic rock sounds of Hanson’s parent band, Wand, or the harder rock stylings of his previous solo record “Western Cum” be warned: this record is many steps to the mellow of that.

Instead of doing more of the same, Hanson has embraced a folk/country vibe here that feels like a reborn Laurel Canyon sound. The Byrds or the Flying Burrito Brothers reimagined for the 2020s. it doesn’t feel derivative at all, as Hanson is not copying a sound, just embracing a vibe.

Gone for the most part is any guitar reverb or odd arrangements, replaced with what could best be called optimistic anxiety. The record feels hopeful in places, but it is also world weary and uncertain. Maybe it is best exemplified in the opening stanza of “I Don’t Believe You”:

“You tell me the wolf is at the door
And he's gonna slaughter all the hens
The rats have eaten through the crops
And there's nowhere to bury the dead
Well I do appreciate your words
Yet I don't care what you've said
Cause I don't believe you”

The arrangement is piano forward and feels majestic and deliberate, and even though there are some minor chords and step downs to lead you to a place of discomfort, the undercurrent of the melody is “tired, but still standing.” It’s one of music’s great “don’t let the bastards get you down” moments.

Other times Hanson gets metaphysical in his explorations of doubt. On “Final Frontier” he notes that:

“Well, it’s good to be God
Cause when the shit hits the fan
You just go on believing that you don’t exist.”

On first blush, it’s a bit apocalyptic but the message is a hopeful one – you’ve got all the power you need for this moment, and all you gotta do is believe in yourself.

While a lot of Hanson’s songs are more explorations of thought than stories, near the end he lands a gem of a character study with “Old Policeman”, a song about a worn out and weary cop. While you could easily read this song as an indictment of a policeman who has lost touch and needs to retire, Hanson’s depiction is artful and sympathetic in strange ways. This cop has some bad work habits, but he’s also a sad and lonely soul that no longer feels connected to his community – in no small part because his job creates a separation. Like a lot of songs on “I Love People” its complex, layered, and offers no easy answers.

“Old Policeman” is mostly a heavily played and emotional piano piece, with some light horn in the background that combined makes you feel…tired. It’s indicative of a record that consistently knows what mood, melody and arrangement is necessary to pull every ounce of meaning out of its songs.

This record may not be what Wand or Cory Hanson fans will necessarily expect, but it is a damn fine record, and a likely contender for 2025’s Top 10.

Best tracks: Bird on a Swing, I Don’t Believe You, Final Frontier, Bad Miracles, Old Policeman