CD Odyssey Disc 1696: Amy Speace

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey! Before I get into the next record, a quick word of remembrance for Shane MacGowan, frontman of the Pogues and the Popes who died this week. Shane MacGowan was one of the true all time greats. If he was too hard on himself (and he was), it always felt like it was in the service to the music. My collection is full of Pogues and Popes albums that still get played often.

Thanks for the music, Shane. I’m sad to say you must be on your way, but all the best in the great hereafter.

Disc 1696 is…That Kind of Girl

Artist: Amy Speace

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? Giant Head Cover – profile version!

How I Came To Know It: I discovered Amy Speace through her 2021 album “There Used to be Horses Here” and dug back through her catalogue from there. Ironically, I still have not been able to find a copy of “There Used to be Horses Here” but I ordered “That Kind of Girl through Amazon (barf) when I couldn’t find it elsewhere.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Amy Speace albums. Of the three, “That Kind of Girl” is good, but still only finishes third.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

Amy Speace is one of those great voices you’ve probably never heard of. On “That Kind of Girl” she shows a self-assurance and writing talent that makes listening to her sing an even greater pleasure.

Speace traverses multiple styles on “That Kind of Girl”, with songs that are country, folk, pop and even a bit of bluegrass. The tunes, both in terms of how she structures a tune and also the range and timbre of her voice, remind me strongly of Mary Chapin Carpenter.

There’s a classical composition feel to how Speace pulls a song together, and in her low range her similarity to Carpenter is eerie, especially on pining mid-tempo slow marches like “Come Pick Me Up.” A song offering love, and a desire to know your partner when you see them through the lens of them showing you their hometown.

She also reminded me (favourably) of Carpenter on “Better Than This” which felt a lot like “Passionate Kisses” right down to the demand for, well…passionate kisses, and through that metaphor, more commitment in the relationship.

Speace can tend toward Songwriter 101 approaches in her imagery, doubling down on “street as conversation” (“Come Pick Me Up”) or “raincoat as relationship” (“Raincoat”). On the former it works, framing everything up and delivered through her sneaky powerful vocals. On the latter, less so, where the metaphor feels strained; a darling that she should’ve killed.

The album explores spirituals as well, with the bluesy “Three Days” and the bluegrass-inspired “Hymn for the Crossing.” Of the two, I prefer “Hymn…” but I think part of that is just stylistic preference.

The best song on the record is the title track, a heart-wrenching tune of lost love, where the pain goes so deep the narrator has to confront a crisis of confidence in herself. The harshest lines…

“Girl, who'd let love take her down
Girl who'd wade into a lake with stones tied to her gown”

…are bleak, but Speace pairs the doubt of the lyrics with a tune that is resolute and reassuring. Yes, she’s discovered some weakness, but these hardships are a lesson learned, not a punishment. You can tell that despite the blackness today, she’ll be stronger tomorrow. I’m a sucker for songs that play the lyrics and melody against each other to create tension in the theme, and “That Kind of Girl” gracefully delivers.

The arrangement decisions are as varied as the musical approaches. Piano features heavily, but Speace works in guitar and violin to greater or lesser degree as the song demands. This album had me marvelling at the centuries-long friendship of the piano and the violin. Violin lifting your soul through an emotional journey, the piano grounding everything else to free the violin up to work its magic. I’ve heard it a million times, but maybe it was the even mix on the record that had me noticing more than usual.

On “In Chicago” violin is set aside for fiddle (you know what I mean…) and Speace doubles down on a southern mountain music vibe that had me thinking favourably of bands like the Stray Birds. This is a song for stomping wooden floorboards and shouting out “woop!” whenever the spirit moves you.

For a host of scheduling reasons, this album lingered in my car longer than usual, and afforded me a lot of extra listens (maybe four all the way through). On each iteration, I liked the record a little more, and picking the “best tracks” section below was harder than usual, because they changed as I went. That’s the sign of a good record, though, making “That Kind of Girl” my kind of album.

Best tracks: Come Pick Me Up, That Kind of Girl, Hymn for the Crossing, In Chicago

CD Odyssey Disc 1695: Jess Williamson

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. After a brief uptick, I am sad to report once again I encountered an album I found merely average. This is the fifth record in the last seven that did not survive to make it to the shelves. When I look at the spread of ratings in the collection as a whole (mostly 3s and 4s) I have cause for hope, but it hasn’t been reflected in the music I’ve been rolling of late.

Disc 1695 is…Cosmic Wink

Artist: Jess Williamson

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? Jess Williamson looks pensive in the fading light. This is that time of night where if you’ve got a campfire, you gather around it, and if you don’t you head inside where it is warm.

While the photo isn’t compelling beyond that, I give full marks to the creative framing and font choices. Very nice!

How I Came To Know It: Earlier this year I discovered Williamson through her 2023 album “Time Ain’t Accidental.” I really dug that record, and shortly after I bought it I found this record hanging out in the Misc W section at the local record store. Feeling it was divine providence at work, I bought it. In doing so I must’ve forgotten I’d already checked out other earlier works by Williamson (2020’s “Sorceress”) and found them wanting. Oops.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Jess Williamson records. “Cosmic Wink” is a distant second.

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

In 2023, Jess Williamson developed a crisp and insightful style that is a pleasure to listen to, but on her journey to that place she applies a very different approach, which mostly registered low for me on the joy meter.

I’m currently reading “Just Kids”, and it has my head wrapped up in Patti Smith’s artistry and unflinching creative talent.  On “Cosmic Wink” Williamson looks to channel Smith’s spirit, with a delivery that is heavy on an emotive, almost Beatnik performance style. Smith’s rough and wrought approach to music is not easy to emulate. While Williamson has the vocal chops for it, it didn’t have that same “take you to the edge of reason” quality that Smith manages on her early records. Not terrible, but just not…magical.

Production-wise, “Cosmic Wink” has a submerged quality to it, with lots of reverb and overlap of sounds. This is not usually how I roll, and here I found it distracting from her big vocals. It establishes a dreamlike and diffuse mood, but it didn’t successfully pull me into its world, and with music of this nature, if you’re not fully pulled in, it can quickly become background.

Worst, I heard many aspects that I like better in other artists. In addition to the aforementioned similarities with Patti Smith, there are elements of the smoky mystery of early Lera Lynn, and the murder mystery folk of Marissa Nadler. These are positive comparisons, and at a core level Williamson has all the tools. Her voice is big and expressive, and she knows how to create phrasing that draws you in and out of the rhythm. It is just all a bit too soupy for me.

Most of my listening to “Cosmic Wink” was done in the car, which was not in its favour. The Jag tends to growl over more nuanced records, and when I got home tonight for a third listen on headphones, I was instantly happier with the results. Here, with a more complete immersion, you can let all those light and layered brush strokes of guitar dance around the edges of your consciousness.

Additionally, Williamson’s vocals stand out stronger on a headphone experience, and that Patti Smith spoken word/broken bird song approach is easier to both embrace, and to be embraced by.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. I kept yearning for her cleaner and more inspired 2023 release. I have a record with Williamson working as one half of the female duo “Plains” which I also prefer. I’m keen to roll and dive into both those records soon, and in so doing redeem Williamson’s reputation. As for “Cosmic Wink” I’ve decided to move on.

Best tracks: I See the White, Thunder Song

CD Odyssey Disc 1694: Gillian Welch

In today’s music news – new audio equipment! After many years futzing with a dubious pre-amp, today I bought a new record player with one built in. I landed in ‘middle quality’ but good enough for my purposes. I am an audiophile to a point, but I’m also a realist about the level of sound I can achieve in my condo, and I only play records about three times a year, so there’s that.

Of much greater excitement, after many years of searching today I also found a new multi-disc CD player! Huzzah! This, plus learning that “the kids” over in England are busy playing CDs again and my time may be coming around again. Or not. Either way, I can once again spin multiple discs in the “random but not the whole music collection” kind of way I love and cherish.

Speaking of old school, here’s a review of some traditional Americana folk music.

Disc 1694 is…Soul Journey

Artist: Gillian Welch

Year of Release: 2003

What’s up with the Cover? Some childlike drawings. I like the teal colour of the background but otherwise I prefer my album art to look like it was drawn by adults.

How I Came To Know It: I had a deep dive into Gillian Welch many years ago, and this is one of the resulting finds.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Gillian Welch albums, with “Soul Journey” coming in at #3.

Rating: 4 stars

Gillian Welch is one of those artists that mainstream radio may have never heard of but is fundamental to the understanding of the modern Americana and indie folk movements. If you love that kind of music from any number of current artists, there is a very good chance, bordering on inevitability, that those artists cut their teeth listening to Gillian Welch records.

There’s a simple reason for this: Welch is the best. Vocally, she hearkens back hundreds of years into the tradition of storytelling that is folk music, steeped in the rich and earthy delivery that evokes backcountry mountain hollers of rural America. Her voice is big and resonant, and Welch is able to pull it back or let it blast, effortlessly moving in and out of quietness and full power. This style should be emptying her lung capacity every half bar or so, but she sings with a seeming inexhaustible amount of breath and blow.

Accompanying Welch as always is her co-writer and guitar guru husband David Rawlings. Rawlings sprung guitar stylings are unique in their own right and their ebb and flow is a natural fit to Welch’s vocals.

As for “Soul Journey” is comes as the fourth and latest of her early career and presents a softer and more rounded production than previous efforts. The discordance is still there to serve the stories, but the playing is more relaxed and lilting than anything prior. I like Welch both ways, and this slight shift did not detract from the quality of the experience.

The album opens with “Look at Miss Ohio,” a gorgeous character study of a woman who is likely the belle of her town, and much more complicated than most casual observers of her beauty will ever understand. The song is dripping with rich imagery, none better than the opening stanzas:

“Oh me oh my oh, look at Miss Ohio
She's a-running around with her rag-top down
She says I want to do right but not right now”

Miss Ohio is a rugged and troubled beauty, and Welch captures her restless and troubled soul to perfection. The song’s tune is a weary meander that perfectly underscores it all.

Another favourite is “Wayside/Back in Time” with a light and easy mid-tempo sway, and a refrain with a melody so perfect I was humming it in the hallways at work for days, unable to get it out of my head, and uninterested in trying.

All of the songs are co-written with Rawlings, with the exception of “One Little Song” where Welch demonstrates she is more than capable of writing a classic folk song all on her own. “One Little Song” is a love song to the creative process, where songs are birds waiting to be wooed and gently observed and put to paper. The song wonders if there are any new songs to be written, even as it demonstrates that hell yes, there sure are.

I like when folk records tackle a traditional tune, and on “Soul Journey” we get a take on “Make Me A Pallet on Your Floor”. I have other versions of this by Lucinda Williams and the Stray Birds, and while those are good, Welch’s is head and shoulders better. The gold standard on how to take a very old song, honour its bones, and still make it your own. Best line of this classic “down and out’ rumination:

“Been hangin’ round with good time friends of mine
They treat me very nice and kind, when I’ve got a dollar and a dime.”

Brilliant, and set to a bluesy refrain and Rawlings incomparable guitar work it just doesn’t get any better.

In most artists discographies, “Soul Journey” would be the best record the artist ever created. In Welch’s incredible body of work it can only land third, but don’t be fooled; this record is a classic must-have collection of Americana folk music.

Best tracks: Look at Miss Ohio, Make Me a Pallet on Your Floor, Wayside/Back in Time, Lowlands, One Little Song

CD Odyssey Disc 1693: John Moreland

I’m not on a great run right now, and this next record represents the fourth album out of the last five that will not survive to return to my collection, post-review.

In more positive news, I spent the earlier part of my evening watching a documentary on Ronnie James Dio, and was overwhelmed with my love for him. So while this next review may not inspire you, I encourage you to explore some of the work of the great Ronnie James Dio. Whether as part of Rainbow, Black Sabbath or under his own moniker, Dio was one of the all-time greats.

OK, on to the present reality…

Disc 1693 is…Birds in the Ceiling

Artist: John Moreland

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover?  According to the liner notes “art and design” is also by John Moreland which means we all know who to blame for whatever this is.

A collage of collared strips may strictly speaking be an art and design project, John, but that don’t make it good. Next time just put a picture or a drawing of oh, I don’t know, some birds in the ceiling, maybe? Everyone likes birds…

How I Came To Know It: I saw this in the stacks at the local record store earlier this year and immediately thought, “hey, a John Moreland album I somehow missed!” I love my other John Moreland albums, so I was pretty excited. So excited I bought this one without having heard a single song.

How It Stacks Up: I have five John Moreland albums, and this is #5. Distantly.

Rating: 2 stars

“Birds in the Ceiling” should instead be called “John Moreland discovers the mellotron.” That would be a better title, and a much more useful warning than anything Tipper Gore could have come up with, even at her censorious worst.

With that ominous lede in mind, let us turn our minds to what would make a seasoned devourer of music like myself scurry home with an unknown and unheard record so filled with hope.

Previous Moreland records inspired me and made my heart swell with poetic longing. His gravelly and hurt-locker vocals, and the layered, understated beauty of his acoustic guitar is the stuff of pure heartache. Anything resembling that experience was sure to land well, I reasoned.

Unfortunately, Moreland not only discovered the mellotron, he fell for it hard and without apology. He pairs that space organ sound with what the liner notes refer to as “sampling/sequencing” as though this were an instrument on par alongside that guitar mastery I mentioned earlier. Reader, it is not.

Remember that Leonard Cohen album he recorded while squirreled away at a monastery? It was called “Ten New Songs” and featured a whole lot of synthesizer as well. It isn’t one of my favourite Cohen records, but I still loved it (three stars back at Disc 1094 if you are interested). The thing about that record is despite some of the awkward and inorganic production, Cohen’s songwriting shines through.

Nothing can shine through the sequencing experimentation of songs like “Cheap Idols Dressed in Expensive Garbage”. It has the empty thump of a dance floor banger, without the bang, and Moreland’s guitar lick is sterile and lifeless, something I never thought I would write about a Moreland guitar lick. Also, the title’s image (and the song’s chief refrain) isn’t even a terribly interesting idea.

Or think about Springsteen’s “Tunnel of Love” (Disc 761). This record has some questionable production, but the incredible selection of songs shines through that muck like a white-hot beacon of truth and glory. On “Birds…” the closest Moreland comes to this feat is “Generational Dust.” The song has good bones, and although Moreland’s vocals are souped-out in the production, the hurt is still lurking there, if you know what to look for. It works to a point, but “Brilliant Disguise” it is not.

Near the end of the record, Moreland’s natural earthy talents begin to win through some of the arrangements and production. “Neon Middle June” has a lot of the same challenges of the rest of the record, but Moreland’s vocals here are some of the best on the album. And while lines like

“And what if who I am, is who I used to be
Darling, you know that’s the thought that paralyzes me”

…don’t hold the magic of some of his earlier records, they do capture some of the plain-language wisdom that makes his music so imminent and cathartic to listen to.

“Truth Be Told” is the tune where he lets that brilliant guitar of his rebirth itself, again near the end of the record. This song is the best at abandoning the bad ‘oomp oomp oomp’ sound of the organ/sequencer stuff. It is still there, but maybe Moreland’s fingers are getting tired by this point. Sadly, not tired enough, but the song has its moments and like Springsteen and Cohen, you can see past the Vaseline on the lens to the craggy beauty underneath. It is too little, too late, but it’s something.

I don’t expect my favourite artists to sit staid and happy in the sound I like them making best. I’m all for them exploring new styles and musical approaches. But at the end of the day, it is up to me whether I like where the journey takes them – as the listener I’m the other half of the experience. And much as I want it to be otherwise, this record made me want to go listen to earlier John Moreland records instead. So I’ll pass this one along to a happier home and do just that.

Best tracks: Neon Middle June, Truth Be Told

CD Odyssey Disc 1692: Scimitar

Not having the greatest week. I took my first sick day from work in as long as I can remember (I don’t get sick often). Worst of all, I am now on holidays and will likely be sick for at least half of it. Argh.

Did you read that last sentence as ‘argh’ or ‘arrr!’? because if it was the latter, this next review may be for you.

Disc 1692 is…Black Waters

Artist: Scimitar

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover?  A ghostly pirate ship soars through night sky. This pirate ship needs a bit more sail deployed, but I guess it is propelled by fell and unearthly magicks.

This cover always throws me because of that white dot on the centre left. It is the moon, but to me it always looks like one of those “not for resale” hole punches. Maybe a reminder that this ghostly pirate ship was not sold and returned to the manufacturer. This should make it wrong to resell it, but can you think of a more fitting thing to bootleg than a pirate ship?

How I Came To Know It: I saw Scimitar as the opening act for Alestorm back in November of 2019, aka the “before” times. To read a review of how they did, scroll down on the Alestorm review at Disc 1317. I don’t believe I purchased their album from the merch table, so probably bought a copy at the local record store in the days that followed.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Scimitar record so it can’t stack up.

Rating: 2 stars

For those of you concerned that Alestorm has cornered the market on mixing pirate songs with heavy metal, I bring you good news in the form of “Scimitar”. Heavier, with a bit more black metal thump than Alestorm, this quartet of Victoria metalheads also loves the mix of high seas reaving and power chords.

What the specific songs are about I had a harder time with, but only because I didn’t put in the requisite number of headphones listens. I have a tough time with the gravelly death metal voice, even though I often like the sound of it. I caught phrases in songs that were very piratical, but not enough to know what was happening other than it was full of derring-do, and not a small amount of danger and violence.

Also with song titles like “Brethren of the Coast”, “Buried at Sea” and “Fireship” you get a good impression of what’s going on.

Ironically, my favourite tune was “Forest of Wolves” which is likely not about piracy or Vikings, although given they are sometimes called “wolves of the sea” maybe it is. Another tune, “Habeus Corpus” is likely not the legal concept of presenting a person who has been arrested but since I didn’t listen closely, how would I know? I kind of hope it IS about the legal concept and not just the ho hum notions of finding, you know, a body.

Topics aside, to play this style of music and have it not come out sounding like mud requires skill and precision, and Scimitar are up to the task. The tunes are fully imagined from both an arrangement and production perspective and the guitar work is precise and carries the right level of righteous urgency the style requires.

Stylistically, this is a record early in Scimitar’s career and they wear influences of many genres happily upon their puffy sleeves. I heard the melodic black metal of Amon Amarth, and on “Buried at Sea” a creepy ghostly voice that reminded me of some of my favourite Opeth songs.

Like both those bands, Scimitar has no misgivings about songs that play a little longer. “Black Waters” consists of only six songs, and five of them are well over six minutes in length. The sixth, “Mariner’s Lament” serves more as in intro piece to set mood than a fully realized song.

This does not trouble me (as an ignorer of the radio generally, the idea that songs should be a ‘manageable’ length is ludicrous to me). However, if you are going to have very long songs AND I’m not going to be able to clearly make out any advanced plot lines, then the tunes better hold my attention. In these songs there isn’t a lot of complexity going on, and while the riffs have a steady crunch to them, they repeat too often, and don’t evolve into something greater. The guitar bits don’t go anywhere after the initially establish themselves. The combined effect was that I got a bit bored, and when pirate music and high seas adventure feels boring, that’s a bad sign.

I’m tempted to keep this record just because these guys are from my home town, and I like to support local artists. But since I already bought the record and the concert ticket, I’ve done my part. I’ll pass this record along to someone who will enjoy it and play it more than I will.

Best tracks: Forest of Wolves, Habeus Corpus

CD Odyssey Disc 1691: Tyler Childers

I slept in quite a bit yesterday and then I slept in a bunch more last evening – so much I slept right through an engagement. This morning I almost slept through the start of the Dolphins game. We recently got a new bed for the first time in twenty years and it makes for a much nicer (and sometimes longer) sleep. But that is a bit ridiculous.

Disc 1691 is…Rustin’ in the Rain

Artist: Tyler Childers

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover?  Tyler Childers with what I presume is a Percheron Mule. There is a light and smoke show happening behind Tyler, perhaps the headlights from a multicar accident, a wildfire or maybe an alien landing. Or maybe all three simultaneously, which I expect will take half the night for various emergency responders to sort out. Likely need fire, police and an ambulance for that one.

As for Tyler, he’s got the mule, so there’s that.

How I Came To Know It: I already knew the artist from previous releases and while I find him hit and miss, this record was getting some critical love so I decided to give it a go.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Tyler Childers albums. I like them both, but this one comes in second.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

You never know what you’re going to get with a Tyler Childers record. It could be straight up country, it could be a weird twist on western music or it could be some kind of weird psychedelic rock. Six albums into his career he’s managed to capture my positive attention only twice, but “Rustin’ in the Rain” is one of those times.

This time around, he’s done it with early seventies torch and twang. “Rustin’…” is a record that is heavily influenced by the work of Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris. It is very old school, at times almost the point of caricature. If you’re looking to find the line where a sound balances between imitation and appreciation, this record will show it to you.

The most obvious example of this on the album is “Phone Calls and Emails” where even the title is a mix of the old and new. A title like that evokes a traditional “you won’t call me back” tune, and indeed it is exactly that. In fact it had me thinking strongly of the Flying Burrito Brothers’ 1969 tune “Sin City”. It isn’t the same, but it has the same feel, the same build and flow, and undercurrent of sadness.

But what’s this, he’s also “emailing” his unresponsive lover. Brilliant and modern, although in 2023 e-mail is also very much old school. He should be having his texts ignored, but not a mention of this. Childers is cleverly showcasing an old form, with a “new” old school form of communication. No letters or telegraphs. Phone calls and e-mails calling up something that never goes out of style in a song; unrequited love.

While most of the tunes are original compositions, Childers undertakes a remake of Kris Kristofferson’s classic, “Help Me Make It Through the Night”. It is a solid rendition, but having heard the original a thousand times, I had a difficult time accepting the small liberties Childers takes with the melody. It isn’t wrong, but the end of many lines go up where they ought to go down.  Still equally vulnerable and romantic, but differently so.

It’s like a guy who house sits for you and rearranges your Hummel figurines. He doesn’t break them, just rearranges them. No harm done, but who does that? Also, why do you have a bunch of Hummel figurines? But I digress…

“Rustin’ in the Rain” walks another line as well, which is just where an album is so short that ceases to be a full album and becomes an EP. At seven songs and 27 minutes, once again we find ourselves on a line. It’s a minor quibble of course, and the quality of those 27 minutes means all is forgiven.

The record’s penultimate tune “In Your Love,” which sees Childers taking off the trappings of old school. Here he fully commits to blending the old and the modern the result is very much all new, and all him. Childers does pay homage to some of the record’s earlier more traditional tunes. With the line “like a team of mules pulling hell off of its hinges” he cleverly references back to an earlier old timey tune “Percheron Mules” nestling the tune nicely into the rest of the record.

This record received a bunch of Grammy nominations, which naturally makes me want to hate it, but I couldn’t do it. It is just too damned lovely.

Best tracks: Rustin’ in the Rain, Phone Calls and Emails, In Your Love

CD Odyssey Disc 1690: Wild Rivers

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. I’ve been on a not great streak of late and I’m afraid it is going to continue. They can’t all be winners.

Disc 1690 is…Sidelines

Artist: Wild Rivers

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover?  Chillin’ in the convertible. Or on the convertible. And, I suppose, beside the convertible. Various aspects of convertibling.

How I Came To Know It: I don’t remember. I know it wasn’t a music review, which usually means it was some encounter I had with someone recommending it. If that was you, and you read this review, it isn’t personal. It is a good record, just not a good record for m.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only album by this band so it can’t stack up.

Rating: 2 stars

Wild Rivers’ “Sidelines” is beautiful music for people that I assume must be much more normal than me. I know I like beautiful music, so my subpar reaction to hearing this can only be ascribed to abnormality. I am simply not normal enough to grok this record in its fullness. Just a desire to grok something has probably put me out of the running.

Before I get into why this record didn’t grab me, I will begin by stating it should be no challenge to like this record. It has a lot going for it. Chill, hangin’at-the-beach grooves, melodies that are easy to pick up, and lyrics that you can sing along to after only two or three listens. This record is like a Corona. A perfectly acceptable beer on a hot summer day that goes down smooth and forgettable.

However, like that Corona, don’t expect this music to surprise you. This stuff is a softball pitch lobbed across centre plate, just daring you to ding it out of the park. And you will, and then you will saunter around the bases for that easy run, an easy skip in your step (these tunes have a lovely slow gallop to them) and a radiant smile at no one in particular. Wanting a baffling exchange with the team mascot as you round third? A chance encounter with a pigeon divebombing from the stadium rafters? If so, this record is not for you.

If you want affable and uncomplicated though, you’ve come to the right place. Helping this affable mood are the performances of vocalists Devan Glover and Khalid Yassein. These two have tone for days. On “Bedrock” Yassein shines, his voice bright and full and perfectly paced. Devan Glover is no slouch either and her solo bits at the front half of “Long Time” almost singlehandedly made my change my outlook on this record. Rich, with a big range, when Glover climbs up into her head voice it feels like your feet are going to leave the floor.

The first person the band thanks in the liner notes is their producer, Peter Katis, and again, it is easy to see why. This production is smooth as hell. At first this is welcome, but after a few songs it started feeling too smooth and perfect. The guitar and piano are so rounded out it is hard to separate them. It isn’t that things get muddy or indistinct – it is an artful separation of sound – but it was my admiration for the technical mastery at work rather than inspiration.

In the end, it was this lack of emotional pull that held me back on “Sidelines”. I didn’t feel emotionally engaged. For some, there is a calming “put it in neutral” effect of this music that could appeal after a hard day. But for me, no matter how tired and worn out I get, I always want to be challenged by what I’m listening to. This is good music for watching the scenery go by while your brain is elsewhere, but I want my music to be imminent, and meaningful in whatever moment I’m sharing it in. I don’t need background music to my life, I need theme music.

I have very little bad to say about this record, and the exceptionally talented writers, musicians and producers that created it. I just wasn’t feeling it. And so, I’ll reluctantly pass this one along to a better home where it’ll get the listens it won’t get in mine.

Best tracks: Bedrock, Long Time

CD Odyssey Disc 1689: Alex Lahey

Normally these blog entries are one of the few things I don’t write while wearing a suit, but today is different. Today is Remembrance Day, and when I’m done here, I’m heading down to the service.

The splendid ideals of democracy are worth defending, but they are not secure unless we are willing to stand up for them. No one has paid a higher price for the freedom we enjoy than our veterans – both the living who came home and the war dead who did not. Today is their day. Please take some time in quiet contemplation to honour their sacrifice.

Disc 1689 is…The Best of Luck Club

Artist: Alex Lahey

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover?  Alex Lahey waits outside what looks like an interdimensional portal to a place called the “Best of Luck Club”. I’d like this club to be a nifty after-hours club, where they play big band jazz and drink clandestine cocktails. However, this waiting room reminds me more of a dentist’s office. If Alex is lucky, there may be some existential detectives on the other side of the door, ready to help her through why life is meaningless. If she’s unlucky, it’ll just be some grim faced dude with an eyepatch, rolling a die and deciding her fate with the outcome. How do I know this? The crow's a hint.

Anyway, that was weighty. Let’s get on with the music, shall we?

How I Came To Know It: Earlier this year I checked out Alex Lahey’s 2023 release, “The Answer Is Always Yes”. I liked it and set about trying to find it on CD, but so far I’ve had no luck. Along the way I dug into her back catalogue and liked that as well, buying two albums that I was able to locate. This is one of them.

How It Stacks Up: If you’re reading along with care you now know I own two of the three Alex Lahey albums I’d like to have. Since I don’t stack up albums that are absentee, I’ll rank “The Best of Luck Club” out of two where it comes in at…#2.

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

Alt rock singer Alex Lahey is not terribly innovative, and while I enjoyed “The Best of Luck Club” I kept wanting it to wow me, and it kept just plugging along down the centre of the road, oblivious to my wishes. There are plenty of good tunes and rock hooks here, just don’t expect to hear something you haven’t heard before.

“I Don’t Get Invited to Parties Anymore” gets the album started right, sounding a lot like a nineties throwback party tune. Lahey’s cleverness here is that this is a song that sounds like it is ready to party, even while the lyrics explore how partying is just not where her head is at.

The record has a lot of angst, and in that way reminded me of grunge, but with crisp pop production to let you know it is OK to have fun and tap your foot (it was never alright to tap your foot to grunge – being morose was the price of admission back then).

The production on the record is solid, if a bit “wall of sound” for my tastes. Most of the quieter moments are just that pop trick of stripping stuff down so the chorus is more of a thumper.

Lyrically, I felt let down often. Lahey has great phrasing, and the lines fit just right within the structure of the tune that makes it easy to sing along. That part is fun, but I was not left with a sense of narrative or character, and while she plays around with specific imagery it is light on metaphor. People who are sad, cry. People who are busy, are working. Not a lot of flowers representing a garden representing the state of the narrator’s heart.

I enjoyed most of the arrangements, but there is some uncalled-for saxophone on “Don’t Be So Hard on Yourself” that I must specifically call out. Is your name Clarence Clemons? If not, don’t do that.

My favourite tune on the record is “Unspoken History” which isn’t surprising, as I’m often a sucker for a record’s ballad. “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn”? Classic. Change nothing. Anyway, “Unspoken History” is light, slow and romantic in a syrup-adjacent kind of way, but I didn’t mind. Lahey’s high head voice in the chorus will melt your heart and make you think fondly of whoever it is you love.

That said, I did a lot of “sure” and “OK I guess” while listening to most of the tracks, and at this stage, facing space challenges throughout the living room, dining room and most recently down the hallway, I would like more out of my record collection than just OK.

There is nothing objectively wrong with this record; it is solid rock and roll that I hope gets played on local Australian radio stations. It just didn’t inspire me. After the Odyssey is done with it, when and how often will I put this record on? Not very often, I suspect.

And so, I wish Alex Lahey the best of luck with “the Best of Luck Club” and will pass this one along to a happier home.

Best tracks: I Don’t Get Invited to Parties Anymore, Interior Demeanour, Unspoken History

CD Odyssey Disc 1688: The Outfield

Eighties music is a tricky business. This weekend I brought home a copy of REO Speedwagon’s “Hi Infidelity” which was a childhood favourite of mine. Knowing Sheila has a soft spot for eighties pop, I played it later that night as a surprise expecting all manner of kudos.

Turns out Sheila is not a fan of REO Speedwagon. Who knew? She does like this next record though, which proves you can’t win ‘em all, but you can win some of ‘em if you just keep swingin’ the bat. And on that metaphorical note…

Disc 1688 is…Play Deep

Artist: The Outfield

Year of Release: 1985

What’s up with the Cover?  This is the kind of eighties art that usually lands flat for me, but not this time. Not only is this bit of art also a Giant Head Cover (and therefore immediately beloved) it has some lovely colours. Frankly, just show me the palette the guy composed this off of and I’ll stare at that.

Also, note the excitement of new disc technology. Analog recording! Digitally mastered! It’s not a bug, it’s a feature!

How I Came To Know It: I grew up hearing the hits off this record on the radio, but since it was eighties pop in an era that I was an avowed metal head, it never stuck.

Then I was at my friend Chris’ place having a summer drink on his deck and he put on a copy on vinyl. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. Sheila was even more impressed, so I bought her a copy as a birthday present shortly thereafter.

How It Stacks Up: Surprisingly, the Outfield has released nine albums. I’ve only got this one, so it can’t stack up.

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

Early and mid-eighties pop is not my thing. I have tried in recent years to make it my thing, principally by curating (with the help of friendly recommendations) a collection of the good stuff out of an era and genre that produced a lot of very bad stuff (I am thinking of you, Duran Duran).

The Outfield definitely qualify as a mid-eighties gem. Probably a semi-precious gem more than a ruby or an emerald or anything, but still nice. Maybe a turquoise. These tunes have an anthemic, celebratory sound and singer Tony Lewis has a high and airy head voice that was very much the style of the time. It reminded me a bit of Prism’s Ron Tabak. Lewis has more power, but I prefer Tabak’s tone. You can’t have it all.

The band is British but their sound is kind of transatlantic, with a big Americana expansiveness mixed with a guitar sound with a lot of pedal effects that had me thinking of U2. The guitar on “I Don’t Need Her” sounds a lot like the Edge, although more in a contemporary “I’m also messing with the new tech” kind of way, as opposed to a rip off.

The best tune on the record is “Your Love” which has an iconic eighties guitar riff and a vocal performance from Lewis that is an instant classic. You can play this song a hundred times and it will sound fresh and fun every single one of them.

The guitar solos leave something to be desired. When they happen (which is far too often) they feel perfunctory and inclined to blindly follow along the tune’s melody. At that point, just sing another verse already.

My biggest issue is as much a feature as a bug. When I first put the record on it sounded distant and detached and I kept turning it up expecting at some point for my car’s (excellent) stereo to pick up some low end. I had turned it up pretty loud before I realized there wasn’t any low end. The production is  like wanting to tread water at the shallow end of the pool, but your feet keep hitting the bottom. It doesn’t hurt, but it sure don’t feel like floating either.

On the other hand, that high treble production gives the whole thing a sunny and carefree quality. This record traipses around like an elf jumping from branch to branch. It is a objectively a bit silly, but it’s graceful too.

While the record outside of the hits is merely OK, it delivers one amazing deep cut right at the end. “Nervous Alibi” is a vocal masterpiece, and I love the way it meanders its way slowly to that heartbreaking chorus. This is ‘lighter over a thousand heads’ level shit, and a welcome treat right at the end of a record that left me laid back and content.

Best tracks: Your Love, Every Time You Cry, Nervous Alibi

CD Odyssey Disc 1687: Miya Folick

Happy Saturday! After a long week of work, I am glad to have a day off where I managed to sneak in a quick visit to the local record store. I bought four albums which I will tell you all about…when I randomly roll them. When will this happen? How long, dear readers, must you wait? There is no way to know. That’s how random works.

And on that note, here’s today’s selection.

Disc 1687 is…ROACH

Artist: Miya Folick

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover?  Some sort of candid shot of Miya in an outfit that feels like it might be athleisure or maybe a very comfy clubbing outfit.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan because of Folick’s 2018 release, “Premonitions” (reviewed back at Disc 1608). This was me checking out her new release. Also, I already knew six of these songs from her 2022 EP, “2007”.

I admit to some annoyance on that front. Putting out half the album a year early as an EP resulted in me having to buy half those songs twice. This is becoming a lot more common these days. It isn’t as bad as the early oughts, when artists would put a new song on their Greatest Hits package to make you buy it, but it is a close second. Please stop this.

How It Stacks Up: I have two full-length Folick albums (I’m dumping the EP since all the tunes appear again here. Argh). Of the two, it is very hard to choose as they are both great, but I’m going to give the edge to “ROACH”.

Rating: 4 stars

Why some pop artists achieve radio fame and others toil in obscurity is a mystery that routinely irks me. It is particularly irksome when I hear a record as consistently good as “ROACH”. Not just because it is a good record, but also because it is catchy. The kids would love this stuff, if only they knew it exists.

The music is a mix of traditional guitar/bass/drum action and synthesizer electronica with Folick’s vocals being the bridge between the different approaches. Both work equally well with her singing. She has a big range, and can evoke girlish, dance-club fun equally well as longing and emotional depth. Sometimes it is both these things at once.

Unlike a lot of vacuous pop music that dominates the airwaves, Folick has something to say. These songs are a window into the life of a woman in her early thirties, coming to terms with a complicated world. Young enough to still remember the breathless wonder of immortality, old enough to finally understand that you no longer are. Worse, that you never were.

“ROACH” explores this world from a lot of facets. Reflections on family and the traits we inherit (“Mommy”), dating a jackass who preys on the growing insecurities of aging (“Nothing to See”) and more than a few outright references to drug and alcohol abuse to salve the various shitty things that the world’s going to throw in your path.

This is a record reflecting on unhealthy levels of self-harm, and the way damaged people tend to pass that damage along.

On, “Nothing to See” the narrator is full of self-loathing as she tries to be what her partner expects her to be, instead of being happy. The imagery is simple but possesses an undercurrent of darkness:

“I know you've been talking to girls on the internet
She's only nineteen and I can't compete with that
I've been trying to change the way I look so you like what you see
I've been losing weight so I can wear these Dolls Kill jeans”

Set against a chorus refrain of “why did I do that?” Folick tries to parse out why you can know behaviour is harmful, and yet do it anyway.

Throughout all this darkness, you see a young woman grappling with how to be a better person, to both herself and others. On “2007” she admits fears and doubt, but for the most part the song is a self-motivational anthem, slow and moody but with an undercurrent of hope:

“I don't wanna be afraid of aging or gaining weight
I want to take up space
I wanna get up real early and stay up late
I wanna smile real big
I wanna fucking live”

And on “Drugs or People” she warns away anyone that might see her descend again into bad habits:

“You think you can handle me
But baby you can't
You think you won't lose your mind
You've already lost half
Don't make me prove it to you
I'm trying not to use
Drugs or people”

I like that this song shows the narrator is not just pushing this new person away because she's concerned about her own propensity to relapse into bad decisions, but because she doesn't want to risk hurting others in the process.

For all the hard conversations and grim battles with life’s challenges, “ROACH” is ultimately a hopeful record. A safe place to be damaged, confident that tomorrow you are going to wake up a little less so.

Folick wraps all these hard ideas in some wonderful and cleverly composed pop songs. You are going to sing along, bob your head, and smile, and within that safe space the music provides, get a little philosophical. It’s a mix of fun, cathartic and intellectually stimulating, and one of the best records 2023.

Best tracks: Oh God, Bad Thing, Nothing to See, Drugs or People, 2007, Ordinary