CD Odyssey Disc 1789: Benjamin Tod

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey where we just keep sailin’ randomly into whatever album happens to come up next. Today…it’s country!

Disc 1789 is…Shooting Star

Artist: Benjamin Tod

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? This cover is a paradox of old and new. The picture looks old timey, if you overlook that rather prominent neck tattoo that Mr. Tod is sporting.

The music itself matches the style of the photo, but as per that aforementioned neck tattoo Mr.Tod is very much a modern artist.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review on one of my favourite newly discovered music review sites, “Americana Highways”. I find a lot of new and obscure music here and if you like Americana music you should check it out.

After you read my blog first, of course.

How It Stacks Up: While I have plans to check out Benjamin Tod’s earlier albums, for now this is my only one, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

An average album gets tiresome at about the third listen, but a good one just gets better every time through. It was this latter experience that I had with “Shooting Star” which had me go from hearing it as derivative, to recognizing that it was, in fact, timeless. The separation is subtle but distinct and usually based on one simple thing: quality.

Benjamin Tod is a throwback to a simpler age, peppered with a few modern sensibilities updating old themes of love, heartache, and hard livin’. His nasal delivery and mournful Hank Williams style songwriting. It is so evocative of the elder Hank’s style I was initially suspicious. However, like Hank III and Justin Townes Earle before him, Tod is not stealing a sound – he is injecting it with new energy. “Shooting Star” is a love letter to an earlier simpler time of music, but with its heart planted firmly in the twenty-twenties.

After a round of admission that he’s far from perfect (“I Ain’t The Man”) Tod digs in with some powerful and evocative imagery on the mournful and romantic “Saguaro’s Flower”., a song filled with all kinds of hurt. The chorus grounds the experience:

“So believe me when I say
I miss your love like desert rain
You are a cloud
I'm a saguaro's flower
I'm thirsty as hell
Let your love down”

The image of a flower growing atop a cactus is exactly what this tune calls for, prickly, painful and filled with a frail and desperate beauty.

The other standout on the record is the title track. “Shooting Star” falls into the long tradition of non-commercial musicians taking the boots to Nashville. The song tracks the all-too-common experience of artists going to Nashville only to pour their blood and sweat out for tips on Honky Tonk row. While the bright lights of Nashville draw thousands of hopefuls, for most Tod’s observation of “Nothing can be beautiful when you're trapped inside” is laden with impotent fury.

The fiddle-work on “Shooting Star” strains against itself like the artists trapped inside the web of the city. Setting the imagery early makes the chorus of:

“And the gate is shut up tight
I'm a stick of dynamite
And I've paid every due that's ever come
But I don't kneel for you or anyone”

…doubly powerful. First because you know the gates are keeping the souls of the angry and damned musicians in, not out. Second because Tod turns that experience into a victory through something as simple as refusing to submit. Sometimes just refusing to kneel can be enough.

In his youth, Tod was known to ride the rails and in addition to this giving him true country cred, it also fuels many songs, as he draws on the experience and imagery. In the case of “Mary Could You” he even tells the story of a woman eking out a living stitching up tramps that have gotten beaten or stabbed in the course of their risky adventures.

The record isn’t perfect, and some of the songs just feel old timey without original much to say, but even in those tunes you tend to get a clever turn of phrase or two that makes it all worthwhile.

“Shooting Star” is true to its roots yet willing to flower in unexpected ways if you give it a chance. It definitely has me on the lookout for Tod’s earlier work.

Best tracks: I Ain’t the Man, Saguaros Flower, Mary Could You, Shooting Star, Nothing More

CD Odyssey Disc 1788: Wagakki Band

I was out last night with a friend who showed me how to do retirement right – namely by doing whatever you want with your time. I am not retired yet, but I am committed to also doing it right.

Disc 1788 is…Shikisai

Artist: Wagakki Band

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Do you like portraits of Wagakki Band? Do you like expensive wallpaper? Can’t decide which you like better? Then this cover is for you.

How I Came To Know It: I discovered the band through an article, but “Shikisai” is one of a glut of albums my buddy Nick picked up for me when he was in Japan last year.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Wagakki Band albums, and “Shikisai” is the best of them all so #1!

Ratings: 4 stars

Do you like a lot of key changes? How about music played so skillfully in front of the beat it feels like its going to trip and fall down a ravine, but never does? Then Wagakki Band may be for you and if they are, you can’t do much better than their 2017 bloated but brilliant work, “Shikisai”.

Whenever I review a Wagakki band album I feel compelled to explain what strange concoction of styles you should expect. Dear reader, I don’t want to lead you astray, and to Western ears, Wagakki Band can be a lot. They incorporate J-Pop, metal, hard rock and a fair bit of traditional Japanese folk. The blend is unlike anything you’ve heard but give it a chance and you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

When Nick brought back the albums from Japan, he brought a lot of them – six in total, and I’ve been excited to review “Shikisai” since I first heard it. Wagakki Band blends all their disparate styles as perfectly as they’ve ever accomplished, and front woman Suzuhana Yuko has never sounded better. She is still as sweet and pure a pop vocalist as ever, soaring majestically over some of the band’s best compositions.

Yuko is powerful and pure in an otherworldly way, like a Valkyrie flying over a field of the slain, calling them home. Or maybe flying over a field of brightly coloured flowers on her day off. With Wagakki Band you get music that evokes both images, sometimes in the same song. Note these songs are in Japanese – I cannot confirm the presence of Valkyries, flowers or corpses.

Case in point, “Bogetsu (Full Moon)” which is one of the heaviest tracks on the record…until it’s not. This one crunches from the very beginning, but then in comes Yuko to smooth and sweeten things out in what I believe is the B section (or the chorus – Wagakki Band compositions can have a lot of movements, and my limited musical vocabulary gets quickly overwhelmed). The song also features whole chunks that feature furious playing of various wooden folk percussion instruments to add a third element ‘ere the end.

On “Okinotayuu (Albatross)” and “Tori no Yo ni (Like a Bird)” they slow things down, and the structure of the song strongly evoked the cosmopolitan Celtic folk of Capercaillie. Karen Matheson’s singing is hard to match, but Yuko is up to the task, and while I have no idea what this song is about (I’m going to guess an albatross, but it could just be a metaphor) I was drawn in with the sheer beauty of the melody and vocals.

As noted earlier, this album is entirely in Japanese. You will hear a lot of words sung quickly, but unless you speak Japanese you won’t know what is being said. On that note, a weird thing has just happened. When I am listening in the car or my device, I can’t see the names of the songs, and I don’t usually remember them (without lyrics it is hard to hang a title with a tune) but lo as I listened and wrote this review I find that Track 10 is titled  “Valkyrie”. Beautiful song, but my evocation of the image above was entirely by chance, dear reader. But I digress…

Back to the music, which continues to astound with its sheer variety. On “Watashi Shijo Shugi (My Supreme Principle)” you get fast singing, then anthemic singing, then fast singing then anthemic singing. It bounces back and forth but all the potential for busyness is swept away with the exceptional talent of the musicians. Keeping eight musicians this tight isn’t easy, but Wagakki Band delivers.

“Yuki yo Maichire Sonata ni Mukete (Snow Dancing and Falling Towards You)” has a lot of flute mixed with the guitar, and reminded me favourably of other folk/rock fusion bands like D’Artagnan and Wucan, although those guys are singing in German.

My only gripe with “Shikisai” is the length, at 17 songs and 71 minutes in length, it is a lot of a good thing. The final track is listed as a bonus track, but I didn’t find it a bonus at that point.

My copy of the album has other bonus features I liked more, including a DVD performance and yet another collectible card (this is a thing many of the albums come with) featuring the entire band including – scandalously – one member sans shirt!

One too many songs but a bonus DVD and a collectible card is a fair trade off for me, particularly when it is the best Wagakki Band album out there.

Best tracks: Kishikaisei (Death and Rebirth), Howling, Yuki yo Maichire Sonata ni Mukete (Snow Dancing and Falling Towards You), Watashi Shijo Shugi (My Supreme Principle), Bogetsu (Full Moon), Okinotayuu (Albatross)

CD Odyssey Disc 1787: Ruth Moody

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. This next record got listens on all manner of transport – car, bus and good ole fashion walking. Not fancy walking, just regular walking.

Disc 1787 is…Wanderer

Artist: Ruth Moody

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? An artist rendition of some spirit or goddess. I’d guess she is the goddess of the night and of the wilds, given her power to turn her hair into a river, her dress into an enormous tree, and her banner into both the night sky, and the earth beneath that same sky.

How is this possible, you ask? Magic!

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a fan of Ruth Moody since way back to when I first heard her as one third of the folk group, the Waiin’ Jennys. This is just me buying her latest solo album when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I have Ruth Moody on five Wailin’ Jennys albums as well as an earlier effort as part of nineties folk band Scruj Macduhk. She also features as a guest vocalist on a couple of Mark Knopfler records in my collection.

This is my third record from her solo offerings, and I’ll stack it up against just those. “Wanderer” comes in…third. Something had to be last. As this completes my solo journey into Ruth Moody albums (for now) here’s the full recap:

1. The Garden: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 848)
2. These Wilder Things: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 760)
3. Wanderer: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings: 3stars

It was 11 years between Ruth Moody solo records, but you wouldn’t know it from her vocals, which are as pure and golden as the day I first heard her sing. While “Wanderer” sometimes let me down in other ways, it was never Moody’s voice, which was and is a revelation.

There were many moments on “Wanderer” where Moody’s vocals completely pulled me under her spell. Vocals that make you smile and just shake your head at the notion that mortal human lungs can do that. It’s ever-present on the record, but there are sections where it still manages to lilt up in a way that catches you by surprise all over again. For this reason alone, this record gets a thumb’s up.

Moody is no slouch on the guitar either, and she plucks a folksy but relaxed acoustic style that matches well with the easy flow of her vocals. Much like the singing, the guitar work is more about warmth and tone than it is about complicated pattern or virtuosity. Like most good folk singers, she knows a song should be sung and played skillfully, simply and with unforced but earnest passion.

That’s the best parts of the record, but the songs themselves (all Moody originals) were not as consistent as on previous records. While there were some standouts (see “best tracks” below) there were many others that were just OK, melodically or lyrically. These often had to rely on Moody’s natural talents to buoy them up. I didn’t mind the simple imagery (plenty of that in folk music) but I didn’t always feel the story or character shining through.

The other surprise was my bad reaction to the production. “Wanderer” does it exactly like I usually like it. There isn’t a lot of busyness, and the notes are given lots of space to reverberate and fill the stillness. Still, there was something wrong, mostly in the low end that was a bit too “loud”. The bass was bossy, and the drums boomed just a bit too hard, both thumping in a way that took away from the lighthearted joy of Moody’s vocals and guitar work.

Over time, even the songs that didn’t light my fire originally grew on me, but that didn’t surprise me since resisting the desire to hear Ruth Moody sing would be like resisting nature itself. I never did fully shake that calling for a little bit more story, or a bit more dynamics in the melody here and there. Not a deal breaker, but enough to nestle this record just below her two previous efforts.

Best tracks: The Spell of Lilac Bloom, Michigan, Wanderer, Comin’ Round the Bend

CD Odyssey Disc 1786: Corb Lund

This review has bonus “live event” coverage following. So if you like to read a concert review from the tour supporting this record, you’ll find it immediately following the more traditional album review.

Or for those who have been with me for a while…the usual.

Disc 1786 is…Corb Lund

Artist: El Viejo

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? A saddle without a horse. The album is called “El Viejo” which is a reference to Ian Tyson, Canadian singer and friend and mentor to Lund, who died recently. I like to see the missing horse as illustrative of the loss of Ian Tyson, but I didn’t read that anywhere, so I could be wrong.

Either way, I’m a fan of a simple cover like this, and it looks even cooler in black and white.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a Corb Lund fan for a long time now, so this was just me buying his latest.

How It Stacks Up: I have ten Corb Lund studio albums plus another album where does covers of other artists. So 11 albums total. Of all of those, “El Viejo” comes in at #8, but don’t judge it to harshly – there are lots of great Corb Lund records.

Ratings: 3 stars

Corb Lund is one of those artists that has figured out what he does best and is content to sit in the centre of that wheelhouse and do more of it. This is not criticism. If anything it means you can count on a Corb Lund giving you more of what you already like about him.

Such is the case with “El Viejo” which has Lund inhabiting all manner of blue-collar heroes. He starts out with gamblers, but before you know it he’s moved on to MMA fighters, low level villains, traveling singers and that old Corb standard; horse soldiers.

Lund isn’t a vocal gymnast. He doesn’t have a four-octave range that allows him to belt it out and make you feel the feels. Instead he relies on skillful wordsmithing, and a great talent for phrasing and delivery that punctuates every punchline or emotional moment in a song. Lund’s vocals have a lovely mid-range bit of grit that makes you want to pay attention. He is the guy at the table that always has the best stories, and his command of his audience is always easy and natural.

After a couple of solid songs about gambling (“The Card Players”, “I Had It All”) and a bit of ranchin’ and bull-riding (“Was Fort Worth Worth It?”) Lund takes on a new topic – MMA fighters - with “Out on a Win”.

“Out on a Win” is one of the record’s best songs, as Lund fully digs into the MMA world, with old school references to the Gracie family, and a bunch of other references that if you are into the sport, you’ll love to hear (I am not into the sport, but still picked up about half of it). But it isn’t all these references that makes the song great – that’s just scenery. It is Lund capturing the feeling of the aging fighter, coming to the realization he hasn’t made the big time and at this stage off his career, it is not happening. His dream gone, he’s negotiated down to one last wish – that his final fight is a win. You get the sense he will be denied even this but like all of Corb Lund’s characters, you root for him all the same.

The album’s title track is an homage to Corb Lund’s mentor and friend, the recently passed Ian Tyson. Melodically, it is one of the strongest tunes on the record, and a fitting homage to a titan in Corb Lund’s life.

While thoughtful lyrics are Lund’s bread and butter there are a couple of songs where they let him down. “I Had It All” has some cringe-level strained rhymes, and “Insha’Allah” is an example of a writer falling in love with a new phrase and proceeding to overuse it. No serious judgment though – I’m just as guilty of this as anyone.

The album ends with Lund returning to one of his specialties – self-deprecating humour. “That Old Familiar Drunken Feeling” is a song about Lund getting too high before a gig and realizing the only way he’s going to make it through the show is to mask the marijuana with something more familiar – liquor. The whole tale is good fun, but the turning point stanza is my favourite:

“I steeled myself, I said, what the hell?
And proceeded to forget all the lines
It was endless and seemed like a fever dream
Western hats and neon signs
So, in a desperate position, I made the desperate decision
That I'd handle this the cowboy way
Which is to pour enough whiskey on the problem
Till it catches on fire or it goes away”

Good stuff, Corb. After all these years he’s still got it, and “El Viejo” is a worthy entry into the catalogue of an artist who has consistently released quality music for the past thirty years and more. Ian would be proud.

Best tracks: The Card Players, Out on a Win, El Viejo (for Ian), That Old Familiar Drunken Feeling

The Concert: Monday, November 25 at the Capital Ballroom, Victoria BC

I’ll admit that at the end of the day on Monday I was not feeling like a concert, or much of anything beyond curling up on the couch under a blanket. However, I decided despite my distracted and weary state of mind I would lean into the experience and see where it took me. I’m glad I did, because it would turn out to be one of the best shows of the year.

Corb Lund was touring solo – so this show was acoustic guitar and no band. Just Corb and us. He put on two shows in one night (one at 7:00, and then another at 9:00).

I was shocked to find the entire dance floor of the Capital Ballroom festooned with folding chairs. This was to be a sit-down affair very much at odds with the usual experience at this venue. Being middle aged with a dodgy back, I was well-pleased, and getting there early, Sheila and secured a couple of primo “regular seats” behind and above the fold outs. I was briefly worried some jackasses would stand right in front of us and block our view while pretending to not even notice (a known tactic of the West Coast Jackass) but mercifully this did not come to pass.

Corb came on stage looking a little trepidatious for a man who has been a master of his craft for going on 30 years. I suspect he’s a bit of an introvert in real life. Both the singing and the guitar work early on were scratchy, but he quickly put that behind him and found his groove.

As I noted in the album review, Corb’s voice isn’t a powerhouse, but it has a natural storyteller’s feel to it, and he knows how to work it to best effect. His guitar work was merely OK (it’s there to accompany the story not ‘wail’). However, it was notable that on at least three occasions he changed the key by moving the capo around mid-song. I’ve never seen that before, but it was a nifty trick, and not easy.

The set list was no doubt influenced by the limitations of a single acoustic guitar, but only in the best possible way. Lund started off with three great military history songs, “I Wanna Be in the Cavalry”, “Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier” and “Student Visas” before taking a clever off-ramp with “Insha’Allah” which is a song about both military history (Lawrence of Arabia stuff), horse-themed stuff (now the third of four featuring horses) and off the latest record. “Insha’Allah” isn’t a favourite for me of of “El Viejo” but he followed it up with “That Old Familiar Drunken Feeling” so we’ll call it a wash.

Corb followed up the new material with a bunch of crowd favourites. You could tell everyone loved the hits from yesteryear although you could also tell they didn’t know the words as well as they thought they did. This included me, but I didn’t sing along and prove it to my neighbours (you’re welcome, neighbours). At my previous Corb Lund outing in 2016 (read the review at Disc 824) I had the displeasure of having such non-knowledgeable (and drunken) louts directly behind me blaring away into my unwilling ear holes. This time we were protected by choice seating, and so despite the distant trill of idiots in far corners of the room, I was able to enjoy Corb’s work to its fullest.

In terms of banter, you don’t get much better than Corb Lund. He is cool but vulnerable, and funny without pandering. He gives a quick intro to some songs, but mostly lets the lyrics tell the story.

Lund also did a couple of Ian Tyson covers, honouring his friend with renditions of “Summer Wages” (a classic) and “La Primera” (a deep cut from Tyson’s 1999 album “Lost Herds”). Both were amazing, particularly “La Primera” which Lund touted as one of Tyson’s greatest songs. I can’t disagree. It was brilliant and deeply affecting and will undoubtedly force me to dig into Tyson’s discography, starting with that record. Well played, Mr. Lund.

Overall, Lund’s easy storytelling manner, and the quality of the song selection temporarily pushed all my worldly cares into the corners of my mind, and I sat head in hand (our chairs came with a table) smiling away in thoughtful reverie.

Also, a word on the merch table, which was well stocked with lots of t-shirt options AND a sticker package (I know I’m not eight years old any more, but damn it, I still like stickers).

When I got home it was only 9:30 (remember, we went to the early show) I hadn’t had enough cowboy for the evening so I watched the last 45 minutes of “Unforgiven” again, and then, soul filled with great music and recharged for the moment, went to bed.

CD Odyssey Disc 1785: Pylon

Happy American Thanksgiving! After a short but very hard week at work, I have taken today off (as is my tradition) to relax and watch American football.

Despite all the coming festivities of the day, I awoke to find myself out of sorts. After a failed and feeble attempt to sleep in, I’ve decided to engage in a little writing therapy. The result, Gentle Reader, is this humble entry in this ongoing CD Odyssey thing I do.

Disc 1785 is…Gyrate Plus

Artist: Pylon

Year of Release: 1980 (the Plus part 2007)

What’s up with the Cover? I’m not sure. Given the band’s name, my first thought was it had to be a pylon, but it just looked more like a hat.

So I asked Sheila. She took a hard look and after a moment declared “hat,” confirming my initial bias. So I’m going with ‘hat’. Four hats, in fact.

Also, in case you’re wondering this is the CD cover; that ring of “record damage” you see is an artistic affectation which does not appear on the original vinyl. Unless of course, you store your records poorly. Then it will appear.

How I Came To Know It: For the second straight review, this is a record I discovered after reading about it in a “best of” article on Paste Magazine. This time it was “Best 50 New Wave Albums” although knowing Paste, the list might’ve been shorter when they first posted and they’ve added to it.

Either way, I dug through the various records I didn’t know and again found a few that appealed, including “Gyrate”.

How It Stacks Up: Pylon released three albums in their short career, but I’ve only got the one, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

When does anxiety feel good? The answer, dear readers is “almost never”, but listening to “Gyrate” is the exception that proves the rule. This record wraps its anxious beats and shrieks in music that makes you want to dance the tension away. Never has foreboding felt more relaxing.

For those who’ve arrived looking for some folk/rock/indie situation, you are about to be disappointed. Pylon is a New Wave/Punk crossover and the guitar you’ll hear is mostly employed as either doing some strange accent sounds or serving as yet another piece of percussion. Beats and bass lines rule these waters.

And lest you think that water reference implies some tranquil latter-day Pink Floyd shit, let me disavow you of such notions. These waters are choppy, and while the forward lean of the beat and the overall production of this record are New Wave in flavour, the visceral attack applied is pure punk rock. “Gyrate” doesn’t straddle the two styles so much as demonstrate that they descend from a common ancestor.

Singer Vanessa Briscoe Hay is exactly what these songs call for, as she spits out a repetition of phrases that eschew telling a tale in favour of setting a mood. More often than not that mood involves a lot of nervous energy. Something is happening, but the details are dismissed in favour of how that something makes you feel.

Case in point, “Dub”, where Hay repeatedly sing/shouts “I’ll redouble efforts” over the beat. What is this redoubling of effort regarding? Wrong question! This is a song about the emotional toil of redoubling efforts, of the internal demand we place on ourselves when we undertake such a redoubling. Leave those details to the troubadours!

“Dub” is a song you won’t get on the original “Gyrate”. My copy is the 2007 re-release named “Gyrate Plus” with bonus content. The additions are all contemporaneous with the original record, and equally good, so their presence is surprisingly seamless. It’s a good thing, too, because Pylon doesn’t do the usual “tag ‘em on as bonus tracks” game. They put two at the front of the record, two at the back and scatter a final pair through the middle. I think it makes the record better, and I expect only the limitations of vinyl in 1980 prevented something similar then.

“Yeah”, you sneer, “but can you dance to this stuff?” First of all, there is no need to sneer, but yes you can totally dance to it. Just don’t expect to bust out your best disco moves. This music is for a lot of ping pong dancing and getting your thrash on. Not in the aggressive metal style (also cool) but in that insular, introverted “we’re all dancing alone together – don’t look at me!” kind of way that punk has always been great for.

Some of the songs are a bit lighter in the arrangement and others more approaching hard core, but they all have a similar tempo and feel. This causes the record to blend together as a single listening experience, which is good and bad. On the good side, you can just sink into “Gyrate” and enter a kind of fugue state of elemental emotion that you likely won’t emerge from until almost an hour later. On the bad side, if you aren’t fully in the moment, you may emerge early and wonder, “is it done yet?”

This is the one downside to the “Plus” on the “Gyrate Plus”. It pushes the record to 16 songs and almost 60 minutes of music. It left me thinking that it may be better to just leave some of that excess in the studio, but it just feels wrong to pull any piece out of the record. It’s all good. Remarkable given it is a record with stuff added in.

Best tracks:  Cool*, Dub*, Volume, Feast on My Heart, Weather Radio, Danger, Working is No Problem, Stop It

*only on the “Plus” version of the album. All others, from the original

CD Odyssey Disc 1784: Green on Red

Here we go with another review. This record is from the mid-eighties, but I didn’t discover it until a few years ago. In the mid-eighties I was in a “metal only” kind of mood. I still love metal, but I’ve recovered from the myopia that afflicted my youth.

Disc 1784 is…Gas Food Lodging

Artist: Green on Red

Year of Release: 1985

What’s up with the Cover? These stripes look like when your printer is low on one colour of ink. Replace the cartridge and this is probably just an ordinary sunset.

Also there is a a road sign advertising – as you might expect - gas, food, and lodging.

How I Came To Know It: I read about it in an article on Paste Magazine. Not a straight up review, but one of those “Top albums” articles that are always fun to read to see 1) what you already have 2) what you’d like to check out and 3) where you vehemently disagree.

In this case it was something called “Top 50 Alt Country Albums of All Time” As you can see, they’ve since updated the list to add 20 more albums, but the URL gives away the original scope.

Of the 70 albums on that list, I own 36, a number of which I discovered by digging into the list, so thank you, Paste Magazine!

“Gas Food Lodging” has proved nigh impossible to find on physical media so earlier this year I broke down and bought a digital copy.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Green on Red album, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“Gas Food Lodging” sounds grimy. Like an old car covered in dirt that once washed reveals that half the discoloration you thought was dirt is actually rust. Decay under decay.

Part of this is the arrangement, which has a heavy guitar focus, with plenty of reverb. The space is filled from the very beginning with a lot of sound and even though the songs are melodically simple, they tend to hang heavy in the air, like wildfire smoke or a dust storm.

The record is also infected with mid-eighties production that makes things jangle a bit, with very little bottom end. Unlike many other mid-eighties records though, here it is a feature, not a bug. It makes it harder to focus in on singer/guitarist Dan Stuart’s work less immediate on the first listen. However, dig in a little and you’ll be rewarded. Stuart plays in a gritty late eighties Neil Young style, fully committed to torturing the electricity out of the instrument.

Stuart’s vocals also suit the arrangements and production. He has that high wailing vibrato that I associate with college rock bands you might here at the student centre bar on a Thursday night. This is not a bad thing. It feels raw and unrehearsed, which is the energy the songs call for.

That narrative is of down-and-out characters and tales of an underclass being left behind by their own society. This is the soundtrack to homeless encampments, as heard from the window of a passing pickup truck, full of kids with empty stomachs wondering how close they are to the same fate.

One of the best of these is “Sixteen Ways” a song in the same depressing tradition of Dylan’s classic “Ballad of Hollis Brown”. “Sixteen Ways” ends bereft of hope, its narrator singing:

“I worked so hard for 40 years
I told myself I had nothing to fear
Then one by one they got shot down
The youngest one held a gun to his ear

“They ain't coming back
It's too late
They shot my babies but
They killed my faith”

In the depths of this tragic event, you are dug one step deeper into despair, past personal loss and into a dark and spiritually bereft hole.

Despite the record’s dark themes, it has a restless and anxious energy throughout that sounds like it will be painful but is strangely cathartic. Or put another way, it’s depressing, but you won’t mind.

Do I agree with Paste Magazine that this is a top 50 alt country album of all time (or even a top 70)? Reader, I do not, but I do agree that it is a solid record that still sounds fresh and compelling almost 40 years after its release, and that’s not nothing. What it does, it does very well, and like all good records, it gets better over repeat listens.

Best tracks:  That’s What Dreams Are Made For, Fadin’ Away, Sixteen Ways, Sea of Cortez

CD Odyssey Disc 1783: Ngozi Family

It’s rare that the CD Odyssey finds an album that’s avoided getting reviewed for a decade or more, but it still happens. This next record is one of those, but it was worth the wait.

Disc 1783 is…Day of Judgment

Artist: Ngozi Family

Year of Release: 1976

What’s up with the Cover? An old school sepia photo of the band surrounded by a bunch of groovy graphics. The boys I the picture all have their hands clasped in prayer, likely on account of it being the day of judgment and all.

How I Came To Know It: I was in my local record store one day about ten years ago and I heard something awesome coming through the speakers. When I asked what was playing, the clerk told me “Ngozi Family”. I asked if he had a copy of whatever I was hearing. He did. I bought it.

How It Stacks Up: I have only one Ngozi Family record, although I also have 1977’s “The Ghetto” which is Paul Ngozi recording under his own name, presumably with a different band makeup. I count them together. When I reviewed “The Ghetto”’ (back at Disc 1007) I gave it 5 stars and assumed it was the best. While it is perfect, I’ve got to put the equally perfect “Day of Judgment” above it at #1.

Ratings: 5 stars

Ngozi Family is meat and potatoes hard rock like you’ve heard all your life, but played with such visceral joy that you’ll swear Paul Ngozi invented it. By the time you’re through “Day of Judgment” you’ll realize he’s reinvented rock and roll in his own image. Like Johnny Cash covers a song and makes it Johnny’s forever, Paul Ngozi takes an entire musical style and makes it his.

The core of “Day of Judgment” couldn’t be more basic on the surface. Ngozi loves the sound of a fuzzed out electric guitar, and he loves it a lot. On this, Paul and I agree. You’ll get strong undertones of Black Sabbath here, with songs that are front and centre about crunchy riffs that drill right into your spine. Somewhere halfway through the song there’ll be a shift and Ngozi will open up with some crazed distortion-filled solo that will feel completely out of control and completely purposeful at the same time.

It sounds simple, but the music is infused with such a festive joy you can’t resist the charm. It also has elements of African rhythms in the drums and melodic structure that takes this very basic rock and roll concept and infuses it with all manner of ear candy. Sometimes he warns you (“now I’m gonna blow my whistle” followed by…blowing his whistle). Sometimes the craziness just erupts. It’s a party where you’re never sure what will happen next, other than knowing it is going to get better and better.

“Kumanda Kwa Bambo Wanga” starts with a riff reminiscent of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” and then Ngozi throws in some awesome vocals in what I assume is a more traditional Zambian style (I’m no expert). I don’t know what the song is about, but I know that the combination of the African rhythms in the vocals and the Iommi-like guitar crunch is irresistible. And yes, halfway through Ngozi launches yet another distortion filled guitar solo. He captures the joy of a kid discovering what all the pedals can do, except with the expert application and timing of a master.

It is hard to pick the best song on a record full of greats, but when I want to get someone to love Ngozi Family, I usually go straight for “Hi Babe”. This is a song about nothing more complicated than going downtown to meet your buddies and say hi to passing girls, but never have I heard the tale told with such carefree and energetic joy.

On “Bwanawe” you think the blending is done, as Ngozi sticks almost exclusively to African rhythms at first, but it isn’t long before he’s thrown in a little guitar solo action in at the back end. He merges these sounds as naturally as breathing, and the more the two sounds blur together the better they sound.

That reinvented sound would eventually be a big part of what became known as “Zamrock” a rock and roll renaissance in the heart of Zambia. Much of the excellence that was made back then never survived. Lost masters, lack of recording equipment and a host of other twists of fate and ill-fortune. We’re lucky to still have masterpieces like “Day of Judgment” that survive to show us that bringing together different musical traditions can make for some great art.

Best tracks:  All tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1782: Vera Sola

After a very busy week I’ve made it to another weekend. It is off to a good start, as my CD order from the UK arrived on Thursday night just in front of the Canada Post strike. This means my favourite new musical discovery – metal band Arkham Witch – is serving as the soundtrack to the weekend. Awesome.

This next review is also a recent discovery, also awesome, but very much unlike Arkham Witch.

Disc 1782 is…Peacemaker

Artist: Vera Sola

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? Looks like Vera Sola is building a house up in the high country. Building a house is hard work, particularly when the air is thinner, and Vera looks to have stopped briefly to swoon. A good swoon always restores one after a bout of the vapours.

Fear no, gentle readers! Before you know it she will be back up and busily installing drywall. Should another bout of swooning descend at least she’ll look resplendent it in that white and red dress as it overtakes her.

How I Came To Know It: I believe I read a review this album on “All Music” a website that provides a small number of reviews to go alongside a comprehensive listing of weekly new releases. Wondering if there’s anything new out by your favourite band? All Music can help you find out. Anyway, I liked how this record was described and decided to give it a chance. I liked it and before you know it I bought both “Peacemaker” and her 2018 release, “Shades”.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Vera Sola albums (which as far as I know is all of them). Of the two, I’ll put “Peacemaker” narrowly into second place.

Ratings: 4 stars

If you like a side of Gothic creepiness mixed in your pop music, then Vera Sola is for you. On “Peacemaker” she spins tales that at first merely intrigues, but after multiple listens blooms into a genuine haunting.

It is hard to describe Vera Sola’s music. It is a little bit of folk, a little pop and a little…secret midnight blood ritual? It is not the kind of immediately accessible tripe you’ll hear on a pop radio station. You’ll need to take a bit of time to let “Peacemaker” cast its spell on you, but if you give it the chance, the record has layers and layers of musical mystery to reveal.

Things begin, as they often do, with the voice. Vera Sola sings with an unconventional lilt that floats and ripples along the top of the melody. She’s a ghost calling you deeper into a gloomy marsh, but with an urgent beauty that makes you powerless to resist. She’s the bright white flower atop a carnivorous plant, the dappled sun reflecting off a lake where there has been a recent drowning.

Supporting this fell and phantomlike grace are some very innovative rhythms. The drums bounce around with the urgency of a haunted Latin dance party, where half your dance partners are vampires. Spanish flourishes tastefully dance around the edges of the songs. You’ll want to twirl with abandon and flip your skirts high.

That’s the up-tempo stuff, but the record has plenty of range, and Vera Sola is equally adept at slow crooners. “Desire Path” is a slowly developing art piece. It is beautiful and enchanting but, this being Vera Sola’s world, the lyrics are about gaslighting and control, and the dark side of ill-considered love.

Through it all you the get the impression that Vera Sola is wise beyond her years. The songs are innovative yes, particularly with the syncopation, but they are also surprisingly traditional. These are crooners that would fit right into a 1920s speakeasy or a 1940s lounge that has somehow survived the war.

Speaking of war, one of the records best tracks is “Instrument of War,” an apocalyptic anthem of vengeance and bloody intent. The song opens with…

“Make me an instrument of war
Lord pack me my pistol bring me my sword
Load me up with landmines
Bury me in concubines
Take me downtown where the bullets are”

…and it just gets deliciously darker from there.

On my first listen the record came off a bit affected, with that cutesy curl in the vocals I often don’t like, but the more I listened the more I realized the creative choices being made with her phrasing and singing style were a feature, not a bug. Without that odd lilt and otherworldly quality the album would lose its oddness, which is a key part of what makes it so good.

There were six years between Vera Sola’s first record and this one and I hope I don’t have to wait that long for number three, because whatever the hell you call this kind of music, I want more of it.

Best tracks:  Bad Idea, The Line, Desire Path, Waiting Bird House, Blood Bond, Instrument of War

CD Odyssey Disc 1781: The Decemberists

I’m back to work after what was an action packed and social four-day weekend. I had not one, not two but three friends visiting from out of town, which was awesome, and all of them, plus a series of fun events with both visitors and locals resulting in me feeling much love and companionship.

The weekend wrapped up on Monday with attendance at the Remembrance Day ceremony. It felt appropriate to wrap up a weekend so filled with good times by setting aside some time for somber reflection on the sacrifices of our veterans to preserve our great way of life. Thanks to them, yesterday, today, and always.

OK, now a music review.

Disc 1781 is…What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World

Artist: The Decemberists

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? Some cheerful goddess figure strides about on a floating orb (the earth?) brandishing a wavy bladed sword and a short bow. I’m not familiar with this particular myth.

The rest of the cover is a bunch of repeating imagery in a colour scheme that looks like it was chosen by a Microsoft Office template. There appears to be a lot going on here but actually, not really.

Fortunately the album is way better than the cover.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a big fan of the Decemberists when this record came out, on the heels their masterpiece, “The King is Dead” (reviewed way back at Disc 490).

This was just me buying what came next. I may or may not have listened to it first, but probably not.

How It Stacks Up: I have nine Decemberists albums, which I believe is all of them. I guess I’m a fan. Of those nine, “What a Terrible World…” (not typing it) is one of the best. I would say it is in a statistical tie for second with “The Crane Wife” but since you don’t read this section to watch me equivocate, I’ll give “The Crane Wife” the slight edge, landing “What A Terrible World…” respectably at third.

Ratings: 4 stars

It may have taken four years for the Decemberists to follow their masterpiece, “the King is Dead” but the wait was worth it. “What a Terrible World…” is an indie folk masterpiece.

Stylistically they don’t stray far from “the King is Dead” although the arrangements feel a bit richer overall. Despite this it never feels saturated or busy, and any additional mélange of instruments or flourishes are well placed and deliberate. Everything serves the song, and the melodies – which are a delight – are front and centre throughout.

These melodies feel simple enough, but I know from trying to “dumb down” Decemberist songs to the level of my limited guitar playing, that they are sneaky complicated. Lots of slight variations to chords evoke a complex set of emotions from songs that on the surface feel very straightforward. “Sneaky good” comes to mind.

Songwriter (and lead vocalist) Colin Meloy is ever at the ready with a quiver full of clever (but never trite) turns of phrase. He sings this liquid poetry in his signature high quaver that lifts you up into an elevated headspace where he promptly…makes you think. If you want a mindless beat or a club banger, this stuff is not for you.

Case in point, the opening track, “The Singer Addresses His Audience” in which…the singer addresses his audience. Often singing in character, here Meloy breaks down the fourth wall with the most honest depiction of the relationship between a band and their fans since Rush’s Neil Peart penned the lyrics to “Limelight”. While there are places in “The Singer Addresses His Audience” that are slightly tongue in cheek, it is the kind of gentle kidding that you do among friends. Or in this case in the artificial relationships between the famous and those who adore them.

A few songs later “Make You Better” gets fully serious, with a song of desperate longing. The broken object of affection is only half the story, with the desperate need to help them the other half of the story, a spiral akin to “The Singer Addresses His Audience” but minus any lighthearted element. The song soars ere the end, but it is the soaring of recognition when something is wrong and it is time to fly over it and see it for what it is, and always was.

Those songs are both in the first third of the record, but there are gems a-plenty to follow, right up to the brilliant trio of “Mistral”, “12/17/12” and “A Beginning Song” that finishes the record off.

“A Beginning Song” once again achieves a subtle duality, ending the record with a song that feels like it both wraps all the musical themes up, but also with a newfound hope of discovery that makes you want to go back to the record’s beginning and play it again.

This is, not coincidentally, why it took me so long to get around to writing this review. I just kept cycling back to the beginning and enjoying another full listen. Things never got tiresome for me and if anything, the record just kept unfurling its mysteries.

Best tracks:  The Singer Addresses His Audience, Make You Better, Lake Song, Mistral, 12/17/12, A Beginning Song

CD Odyssey Disc 1780: Pat Benatar

When shopping for either groceries or CDs, you are wise to bring a list and stick to it. That is not what happened for this next review, when I went ahead and made an impulse purchase of an album despite having previously explored the artist’s discography quite thoroughly and ruling it out.

Trust your original instincts in these moments, dear reader. Do not be drawn in by the magical allure of a killer single and the visage of the noble owl.

More on both those temptations below.

Disc 1780 is…Tropico

Artist: Pat Benatar

Year of Release: 1984

What’s up with the Cover? Look at Ms. Benatar’s lovely evening gown, and isn’t that black and white checkerboard floor delightful?

Oh, who am I kidding. There is only one thing to look at here, and that is the OWL!. That owl is seven kinds of cool. Not only is it posed in “ready to swoop” mode, it is so damned glorious its wings are generating a localized lightning storm.

OWL!

How I Came To Know It: I grew up with Pat Benatar and while I didn’t have this particular album I did know and love the big single that was released from it. More on that later.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Pat Benatar albums. One of them has to be last, and that one is “Tropico”. And since this is my last Benatar review, here’s the full recap:

1. In the Heat of the Night: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 667)
2. Precious Time: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 784)
3. Crimes of Passion: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 801)
4. Get Nervous: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 1762)
5. Tropico: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings: 2 stars

No matter how great the artist, not every album can be a winner. Pat Benatar is one of rock and roll’s great voices, but “Tropico” does little to let her soar, drowning the power of her instrument in overcooked and unnecessary production.

Apologies to Benatar’s husband and longtime collaborator Neil Giraldo, who as producer usually knows exactly what to do with her considerable talent. But here we instead have the horrors of all that mid-eighties production has to offer: drum machine, bangs, whistles and a generally Madonna-esque pop quality that does not mesh well with Benatar’s rock and roll soul.

Lyrically the record also fails to inspire, with one song even mailing it in and just going with a sound for a chorus (that would be the “Ooh Ooh Song”). There are efforts at narrative tales, like on “the Outlaw Blues” but while Benatar has the beginnings of an intriguing character here, she prefers to skate with just the general idea of an outlaw, rather than fully exploring who that outlaw might be. The Production on this one is particularly tough as well.

Yet, despite all these songs that dabble and dance around what could’ve been great, there is a gem among the stones. Yes, I speak of the song that made a million people (including me) buy this record: “We Belong”.

“We Belong” is hardly classic Benatar fare. In place of Giraldo’s signature guitar licks, we’ve got a synthesizer/organ situation dropping electronic rhythms, followed by a bunch of hand claps and eventually a bit of choir action near the end. But where all this experimentation fails us elsewhere on “Tropico”, here everything lands just right. If you ever long to feel that you belong, then listen to the song and feel love in all its heart-wrenching overwrought awesomeness.

I also enjoyed “Love in the Ice Age” which has some annoying eighties arrangements, but the composition has good bones and even allows Benatar to have a bit of a minor belt of two in places. Was this me just looking hopefully for something else good? Maybe a little, but I liked it, and its cold themed imagery goes well with the cold nature of the production. I would’ve given this song a bit more guitar growl but alas, it was not the style of the time.

My copy of this album is a Japanese reissue, complete with an insert of Japanese liner notes. This was almost enough for me to keep it right there, and I applaud Japan for continuing to embrace the CD as a musical medium. However, I know that outside of “We Belong” this record is just not ever getting played ahead of the other four albums I list above. I will reluctantly part ways with it and let it find a happier home than mine.

Best tracks:  We Belong, Love in the Ice Age