CD Odyssey Disc 1940: Olivia Rodrigo

When I was young I didn’t trust anything I perceived as being too popular. I missed out on a lot of good music as a result. Frankly, I still do,.

This next artist is monster popular to a degree rarely seen on the Odyssey, but I’ve managed to get past this. Talent has that effect.

Disc 1940 is… …Guts

Artist: Olivia Rodrigo

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover? The arrestingly pretty Olivia Rodrigo flashes us a vampish glance.

Does she, as the album title suggests, have guts? Why yes, all over her hand in fact in the form of her jewelry and – spoiler alert – all over this record in the form of her songs.

How I Came To Know It: A friend put me onto Rodrigo’s debut record. This one was me just buying her latest, having been previously hooked.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Olivia Rodrigo albums, which is all of them. They are all good, and it is hard to pick a favourite, but I’m going to pick “Guts” as mine. At least for now.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

It would be hard to predict Olivia Rodrigo would immediately top the brilliance of 2021’s “Sour” but here she is on record #2, topping it. On “Guts” we see an artist growing before our eyes, with edgier songs, more range of production and theme and a pop-perfect voice that is bigger and more badass than ever.

Some artists are “old souls” but there is also greatness in an artist that is just unapologetically and perfectly situated in their own age, and their own place. They’re comparable to nothing other than their own immediate experience, with a magnetism that pulls the listener inexorably into their orbit. This is the universe that Olivia Rodrigo invites us into.

On “Sour” we encountered a teenage Rodrigo, exploring coming of age, and on “Guts” we are treated to a woman leaving her teens, blossoming into the beauty and majesty of the world with all its marvels and devils.

Before I go any further, I am compelled to note that more than half the songs on this record are straight up A+ bangers as well. There’s no need to explore the inner depths of the adult world without having some effervescent sing-a-long action while you do it. Enjoy!

The opener, “All-American Bitch” is an excellent example, a song that bounces between a folksy guitar pluck and a crunchy B section of thump and crash that had me imagining Avril Lavigne at her peak.

“All-American Bitch” is also an early signal that “Guts” is a masterclass of production and arrangement. The song showcases Rodrigo’s sweet pop vocals, also shows she can rock out, and leaves the listener reveling in the repeated shifts between styles. The first time you hear it, it surprises you, and every time thereafter you have the delicious anticipation of expecting them. The more you listen, the more fun it gets. That’s pop at its best.

“Bad Idea, Right?” is an example of Rodrigo taking on more mature themes. In this case – a booty call she knows is a bad idea, but makes anyway. The song is playful and joyful, but it’s also a cautionary tale.

“Vampire” comes next. Just like the structure of an individual pop song, the album knows to put the best song tastefully in third place. Far enough in to leave you anticipatory every time you drop the needle, near enough that you don’t have time to start fidgeting about it.

Whoever “Vampire” is about (and theories abound) it is a master class in pacing, melodic structure, lyrical brilliance and a stunning showcase of every corner of Rodrigo’s vocals. You’ll hear power, phrasing, and sweetness, all wrapped in a churning undercurrent of regret and anger. You will also be compelled to sing along every time you hear this. When you do, please sing the real lyrics – with all the curse words – and not the irritating radio sanitized version. Fortunately only the “real” version is on the record.

While Rodrigo has plenty of vitriol for those that have wronged her, it is also an unflinching look inward. “Bad Idea, Right?” shows that even the smartest girls get urges, and “Making the Bed” is a song about owning your shit. Becoming a star this massive at such a young age can’t be easy, but Rodrigo embraces the self-exploration of all of it – the change, the effect it has on you and in the end, the recognition that whether we are behaving at our best or our worst, it’s still our choice at each step of the journey.

On “Making the Bed” you can see a talented singer-songwriter who finds herself in a very big moment and is not only up for the challenge, but aware and confident enough to share a song about it.

A shout-out is in order for Rodrigo’s songwriting collaborator and album producer Dan Nigro. Nigro pulls every single pop album trick in the book on “Guts”. He skillfully navigates through shifts in different instrumentation: sometimes piano, sometimes guitar, sometimes percussion. Usually it’s a seamless progression of several movements, all blended seamlessly in a three-minute pop song. Making songs this catchy is not as easy as Nigro makes it sound.

My only regret is looking back to discover I put “Guts” at #10 on my Best Albums of 2023 list.

It should be higher.

Best tracks: All-American Bitch, Bad Idea Right?, Vampire, Lacy, Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl, Making the Bed, Get Him Back!

CD Odyssey Disc 1939: Ozzy Osbourne

On my last review (Gang of Four) my friend Randall kindly reminded me that ten years prior when he’d introduced me to them and I said I didn’t like the sound. Well, I was wrong. In previous years I’ve been spectacularly wrong about such bands as the Police, U2, and Gods know what else.

This next artist is another example of something I had made up my mind to not like only to discover I was…er…mistaken.

Disc 1939 is… …Bark at the Moon

Artist: Ozzy Osbourne

Year of Release: 1983

What’s up with the Cover? Is Ozzy infected with lycanthrope here, or is it a werewolf who is infected by Ozzy?

Based on the hair, I’m going to go with the latter.

How I Came To Know It: I first heard this record when my brother bought it new. Back then, I didn’t love it. Frankly, I was a bit hung up on Dio at the time, and in 1983 it felt like when it came to Ozzy vs. Dio, you had to pick one, and I had picked Dio.

Fast forward several decades to an older and wiser me who has come to realize the whole Ozzy/Dio thing is a false dichotomy. You can enjoy both! Even so, I wouldn’t have gone there except my buddy Ross was parting with his CDs and I picked up a couple Ozzy records.

Neither one was “Bark at the Moon” but collectively they got me hooked, and before you knew it I was down in the record store buying this album.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Ozzy albums. Of those four, “Bark at the Moon” comes in at #4. Hey, something has to be last.

Ratings: 3 stars

It was admittedly weird to have a 40+ year gap between first hearing a record and then giving it a second chance. I had to overcome a lot of hard-wired bias to get there, but I’m glad I did. “Bark at the Moon” is a worthy entry in the early eighties pantheon of metal.

“Bark at the Moon” is Ozzy’s first record without Randy Rhoads. For me, overall it is a step down in quality in terms of songwriting, but Ozzy is still Ozzy and new guitarist Jake E. Lee is excellent. There is plenty of great content here, and while I’m going to note some of the warts, they aren’t so unsightly as to wreck the record.

Things launch with a bang, with the title track providing that insistent forward lean guitar riff that was a signature of Ozzy’s early solo career. It isn’t quite speed metal, but future speed metal bands were no doubt clutching their copies of the album and imagining a faster future.

Also, werewolves are cool. Not vampire cool, but pretty damned cool all the same.

Later eighties metal tended to lose low end power in the production, but this is the golden age of guitar crunch. It still soars, but the whole record has some great bottom end thump. A couple of times I paused the album because I thought something was wrong with my car. Nope – just the shake, rattle and roll generated from heavy metal in its early heyday.

Being a recent convert, I’m not an Ozzy aficionado when it comes to Randy Rhoads – I know I love him when I hear him – but Lee is no slouch, and drops some fine solo work on this record, fast and technical without sounding mechanical.

Ozzy’s signature voice makes everything sound interesting. He has a voice that can deliver hard edged attitude, but with a soulful hurt around the edges. He sounds like a veteran of the psychic wars, weary but filled with interdimensional wisdom. Ozzy has seen some shit, and he pours that openhearted angst into every song, fast or slow.

Songs like “Rock ‘N’ Roll Rebel” feel a lot like Saxon and borrow from that “party with the outcasts” kind of fist pumping anti-establishment chant style. No one does it quite like Saxon, but Ozzy’s foray into the style are solid and took me back to my own days of denim-clad iconoclasm.

On “Centre of Eternity”, Ozzy starts with some Gregorian chanting, church bells and organs. It is absolutely in the metal vibe, and the chugging guitar riffs that take over a few bars in make complete thematic sense. This is another frenetically paced tune, with Ozzy giving you a guided tour of the vast spaces of the universe…or just inside his own mind. Probably both.

“So Tired” is the album’s second single; a power ballad that plods in places (the guitar solo on this one was just OK) but Ozzy’s vocals are so pure and emotive that you’re drawn in and forgive a song that otherwise could’ve had a “Muppet Show” vibe.

The lyrics on the record are great when it is Ozzy riffing in his own head about the nature of the universe, but at other times they can tend toward worn cliché. Case in point, “Slow Down” which features the line “Slow down your haste is making waste”. Yech. Cringe. The song is a bit of an earworm but that doesn’t make it the strongest entry.

This record has two bonus tracks that were originally single B-Sides, “Spiders” and “One Up the “B” Side”. “One Up the “B” Side” is a hilarious decision to make the track on the B side about…tracks on the B side. Cool.

“Spiders” was hokey and forced and reminded me of the other early bias I had against Ozzy as a teenager: that he was the poor man’s Alice Cooper. Back then (as now) I was a huge Alice Cooper fan and felt like Ozzy was stealing part of that spotlight.

Like with Gang of Four, and Ozzy himself, I now realize that is silly. Ozzy brought his own style to topics of horror and suspense and did a fine job of it. Maybe not on “Spiders” but on “Bark at the Moon” and many more for sure.

I’m glad I gave this record a second chance and look forward to my continuing re-education on the second phase of Ozzy’s brilliant career.

Best tracks: Bark at the Moon, You’re No Different, Centre of Eternity One Up the B Side

CD Odyssey Disc 1938: Gang of Four

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey, where the luck of the draw brings us back to the late seventies.

Disc 1938 is… …entertainment!

Artist: Gang of Four

Year of Release: 1979

What’s up with the Cover? This cowboy looks like an untrustworthy creep, and the three panel “push in” effect doubles down on that feeling of foreboding.

Lest you think it is all a misunderstanding or a trick of the frame, Gang of Four has included subtitles that confirm beyond any shadow of a doubt that this cowboy is, in fact, a creep of the highest order.

How I Came To Know It: I read about this record on a “best albums” list on some music magazine site. I gave it a listen just to see what all the fuss was about and was hooked.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Gang of Four album (so far) so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 5 stars

To describe Gang of Four’s album as “entertainment” would be accurate to the record’s title but would fall well short of just how revelatory an experience it is. Entertainment ain’t the half of it.

“entertainment!” is a record that transforms the raucous protest of punk rock into danceable party music, all while not losing an iota of edge. It is a leading edge record of post-punk. Maybe not the first ever but arguably the funkiest.

From the opening notes of “Ether” crashing around with a deliberate awkwardness, you know you are going to be treated to sounds that challenge your understanding of rhythm all while still making some of the grooviest beats this side of Motown.

I wanted to just go on about Dave Allen’s bass riffs, and I could write the whole review about just how awesome those are. The problem is that every member of the aptly named Gang of Four represents an equal part of what makes this record leap out at you. There are no weak spots. Hugo Burnham’s drums? Insistent and aggressive. Andy Gill’s guitar? Alternatively gritty as hell and then loaded with sway and snap a moment later.

The vocals (mostly Jon King, with Gill featured on plenty of tracks) are blurts of manic energy, filled with unpleasant truths, a restlessness that lies somewhere between the political musing of the Clash and the stoned “I’m bored” vibe of the Ramones. The refrain in “Glass” sums up the experience:

“I’m so restless (I’m bored as a cat)”

These lads are so cool they can make restless boredom a good time.

Best of all, the production keeps all four elements even in the mix, each equally loud and competing for your attention. The sound is stark, with plenty of space, creating a delightful assault coming from all levels and directions.

The music’s pace leans forward into the pocket with a New Wave urgency, but with the dismissive snarl of a revolutionary. “entertainment!” sits in the heart of its own culture, simultaneously celebrating, judging, and taking the piss. The effect creates a breathlessness, the music giving you no time to contemplate outside of the moment, even as the lyrics echo evocative observations through your near-term memory.

It was all so bright and new, and I could feel the record’s innovations echoing through modern artists. The angry observations combined with creative beats made me think of Sleaford Mods, and the apocalyptic Goth-adjacent vision of some tracks reminded me of HMLTD. It feels like you are sitting at the wellspring of half a dozen musical styles, all spewing out at a frantic pace.

The final track on the original record, “Anthrax” is the record’s least accessible, starting with 90 seconds of droning guitar feedback and then some soupy soundscapes. Two sets of lyrics compete out of synch, one sung and one spoken, but lining up in unison for a half-line at the end of every other bar. None of this should work, but it all does. All that weirdness and excess could devolve into self-congratulatory tripe, but instead it draws you in and makes you dance, think, and then dance again.

The only thing I didn’t love about this record is that mine is a CD reissue with a gratuitous amount of bonus tracks (eight, to be exact). These don’t add a lot, but neither are they terrible. If I hadn’t heard the greatness of the original record immediately preceding them, I’d be giving them 4 stars all on their own.

As it is, there is no amount of bonus content that can deny the original record’s greatness.

Best tracks: All the original tracks, and some of the bonus stuff ain’t half bad either (Armalite Rifle is a favourite)

CD Odyssey Disc 1937: Finsterforst

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey where I methodically review all of the music in my collection in random order. I am 15 years and 1,936 albums into this journey. My trip has not yet matched the original Odysseus in terms of time spent, but I have heard a lot more music than him. He only got that one single from the sirens…not even an LP release.

Disc 1937 is… …zum Tode hin

Artist: Finsterforst

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? A gorgeous late evening sunset with a touch of menace about it. Like maybe around this lake lurks a slasher who murders anyone who dares to linger after the final rays of sunlight slip below the horizon.

Failing that, there are definitely mosquitoes.

How I Came To Know It: This is the latest in what I am calling the “Ross Records” – a suite of about 20 albums I purchased from my buddy Ross when he recently liquidated his CD collection. I was pretty excited that day. So excited I accidentally bought this album twice. I guess that means Ross did as well…

How It Stacks Up: I have four Finsterforst albums, but I gave up on one (“Weltenkraft”) after only one listen, so that one won’t be getting a review. Of the three that survived, I put “…zum Tode hin” (which according to Google Translate means, “Towards Death”) in at #3.

Ratings: 2 stars

What do you get when you mix traditional folk music with death metal? You get Finsterforst (in English, “Darkforest”), a German band who recognized that two great genres of music need not exist independent of one another if you have the energy and imagination to bring them together.

In light of this stylistic choice, the record’s title should be more than sufficient warning. The ‘towards’ part of “Towards Death” would be only when first select it from the shelf (or your buddy’s hallway) because the death-y parts of this record waste no time in revealing themselves.

The opening track, “Urquell” (which means “Source”) is ground zero for the sound Finsterforst is going for, with screeching raspy vocals, the thump of double bass, wall of guitar, and – of course – flutes and accordions. For the folk, you see.

Initially this combination drew me like a moth to the flame, and Urquell is the record’s best song, capturing the band’s ferocity and whimsy in perfect alignment. This is orcs and elves putting down their weapons to make music together. The result is weird but compelling.

What I didn’t realize in my first more casual listen is that these guys are not interested in a lot of development in the melody. A lilting section suitable for Morris dancing (of the angry kind), and a hammer-your-face death metal section, creating a wall of sound that is fun at first and then started to wear me out.

Don’t get me wrong, if I am in the mood for a wall of sound I’ll take guitar fury and double-bass drums over synthy mood pieces every time. The addition of things like flutes and bagpipes make it even better. But I also want to go on more of a journey in a song, particularly songs as long as these ones.

Because this is a very long record. It is only five songs, but with a total running time of over 70 minutes. The shortest of them is well north of 11 minutes and the final track surpasses 20. Listening to this record means you are in it for the long haul. No bathroom breaks (except maybe for the DJ) and no let up.

This is the last record to feature the lead vocals of Marco Schomas, and I’m hopeful that he is the common denominator for Finsterforst albums that don’t land as well for me (he is also on the already-abandoned Weltenkraft.

Schomas’ vocals – particularly after long exposure are, well, kinda painful. His growl doesn’t have the heft it needs and comes off sounding sharp and over-exposed. I am well-acclimated to death metal vocals, so I’m not a babe in the woods on this front, so do not mistake this for a general dislike of the style. I am sure some aficionados like their death rasps like this, but it wasn’t my cup of tea.

The record ends on a strong note, with the 20-minute monstrosity, “Untergang” or “Downfall”. I can’t tell you what it is about (everything is in German) but I can tell you it is epic, because at that length it pretty much has to be.

Unlike many of the songs on the record, “Untergang” has an extended ‘quiet’ period at the intro, featuring some soft guitar picking, and a very slow and satisfying build. At around five minutes in things get heavy, but the transition is smooth and welcome. “Untergang” had me wishing for the same level of dynamics and song structure for many of the other songs.

In the end, I enjoyed the feel of this record very much, but the lack of variability across the whole record, combined with its length and vocals that did not land for me, kept me from going all-in.

Best tracks: Urquell, Untergang

CD Odyssey Disc 1936: Queen Kwong

Happy Canada Day! I feel lucky every day to live in this vast and amazing country full of natural beauty, human opportunity and wonderful music.

As long-time readers will know I don’t favour artists based on country of origin, and I roll my reviews randomly, so even on Canada Day I don’t select a Canadian artist. Up next, a talented American singer/songwriter.

Disc 1936 is…Couples Only

Artist: Queen Kwong

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover? Carre Kwong Callaway (aka Queen Kwong) holds a balloon. With her face partially obscured by the balloon it is hard to read her expression, but the balloon lets us know she may be thinking about a cat she loves. I, too, love cats.

I ordered this album through Bandcamp and this cover is personalized by Callaway, including both a signature and that balloon message (the actual cover just has a blank balloon – no words). This makes my album cover unique, which is kinda cool. Queen Kwong also sent me a sticker, so thanks for the personal touch!

On the back of the CD sleeve Kwong also added the message “Thank you for the support!” and a graphic of a cat exhorting me to “play it loud!”. You're welcome, and will do.

How I Came To Know It: My lovely, talented partner Sheila (of Ephemera fame) introduced me to Queen Kwong – thanks, Sheila!

How It Stacks Up: I have two Queen Kwong albums. I like them about equally and for slightly different reasons, but if forced to choose – which is literally what this section is doing – I put “Couples Only” in at #1.

This is not – as you may charge – cheating. Honestly re-assessing your position based on all that you know in the moment, and not relying on an artificial construct established from, say, a review you wrote on Canada Day 2026, is a fundamental principle of living an examined life. Ask Sartre or Camus and they’ll fill you in on the details.

Ratings: 3 stars

Queen Kwong is a talented singer-songwriter who explores the space between pop, rock and electronic music in creative and mentally stimulating ways. This space is a busy intersection of sound, however, and sometimes the traffic can get a bit congested if you’re a fan of sparse production like I am.

The record starts with a trio of what would end up being the best tracks, and also a good cross-section of the range to expect stylistically on the record.

“I Know Who You Are” is a mix of atmospheric reverb guitar and a funky synth beat. Kwong’s vocals are part singing/part spoken word with a bunch of overdub or at least a mic effect that mirrors it. This is music for underground after-hours lounges where men in tight shirts show off their tattooed pipes and women sit on old brocade couches and let their skirts ride up while pretending not to notice. It sounds, in a word, cool.

Lyrically, “I Know Who You Are” is also what you’d expect, with undercurrents of desire, betrayal and a whole lot of drama. Sit on that couch and introduce yourself at your peril, because you’re going to hear a lot of dirt about a lot of people you don’t know.

“EDMR ATM” follows this up, doubling down on the moody, sexy, and unsettling intersection of the opener. This song also doubles down on the grievance theme, with a refrain of “Gave up my baby and the homewrecker won.” Even without context this sounds like an awful experience all around. Fun random fact: On the first couple of listens I misheard the lyrics and thought Kwong was singing “gave up my baby and a whole rack of wine” which had me thinking that maybe the implied couple had been into wine and that this was a bone of contention during the breakup.

Rounding out the trifecta of the album’s great opener is “Sad Man” which has Kwong imagining an aging singer bemoaning their failure to make it big and having to playing shitty dive bars instead. This song showcases Kwong’s talent as a spoken word poet, with some of the strongest imagery and a clear delivery that imparts the weary exasperation of the titular character.

The latter half of the record plays off these early-established themes but lacks the same degree of focus things start with. The saturated production starts to edge into further degrees of experimentation, some of which lands and some of which feels unnecessarily diffuse.

Kudos, however, to late record highlight “On the Run” at Track 8, which brings in an early sixties crooner/doo wop beat that makes you want to sway with your girl at the Grad ’64 prom. It’s a song that’s just as full of heartache and pain of what comes before but has a romantic streak that the record needs in that moment.

The trio of songs that wrap the record following “On the Run” are not as strong, descending into the production soup, but stylistically similar enough to have me longing for what came before. Even in these moments where things get busy or a bit too “EDM-adjacent” for my personal taste, I still admired the architecture of the song. In the end, while this record isn’t typically what is in my wheelhouse, it still won me over.

Best tracks: I Know Who You Are, EDMR ATM, Sad Man, On the Run

CD Odyssey Disc 1935: Sleaford Mods

After two straight reviews of disappointing albums I feel the need for a win. This next record isn’t the best by this band but did was it good enough to provide that win?

Disc 1935 is…The Demise of Planet X

Artist: Sleaford Mods

Year of Release: 2026

What’s up with the Cover? Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn, aka the Sleaford Mods, sit in what appears to be an astral vortex of some kind.

Or maybe the pressure of their dope beats is so great that we can literally see the thump coming off the sub-woofer.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Nick introduced me to the Sleaford Mods way back, but only in recent years have I been buying their albums. “The Demise of Planet X” was just me buying their latest record when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I have 5 Sleaford Mods albums as well as one compilation record (which doesn’t count in this column, but that I’m mentioning for general interest. “The Demise of Planet X” is a solid record, but competition among Sleaford Mods records is intense and I must put it at #4.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

The Sleaford Mods has a simple formula. Jason Williamson’s visceral rant/rap lyrics and Andrew Fearn’s dope beats. That’s all it is and that’s all you need. Like all the records before it, “The Demise of Planet X” is a slap in the face, waking up listeners to the various grievances the Sleaford Mods have towards society, and the various people that contribute to its collapse. Heavy topics delivered with a funky beat that help it go down easier.

Before you start your exploration of the Mods, you should be warned that they swear. A lot. Jason Williamson has a potty mouth that is so dirty it is hard to put into words. Of course, that’s exactly what he does. And he doesn’t just throw out swear words in an offhanded way, he uses them as deliberate weapons, aggressively firing them with furious precision. They are the instruments through which he imparts his ire and disappointment, delivered like hammer blows to knock down the walls of your propriety.

“The Good Life” opens the record with a bang, and probably Andrew Fearn’s best effort on the “sick beats” front. This song is as musical as the Sleaford Mods get, lifted by a melodic refrain of “I can see a phantom” delivered by the band Big Special. Williamson isn’t one for singing a melody, but adding one in here gives the Mods an extra layer of interest I wasn’t expecting.

Halfway through the song, actress Gwendoline Christie comes along to let us know that in addition to playing knights and stormtroopers in TV and film, she’s also got a whole lot of anger to share. She absorbs all of Williamson’s vitriol and delivers a few bars of “take that” that match his ferocity, swear for swear. No mean feat, and well handled.

The record is a worthy entry into the band’s already impressive discography, although this many records in there was less of the “holy shit, did he say that?” experience that I had when I first heard them. That’s no shade on the band, that’s just that I now know in advance what I’m getting with a Sleaford Mods album. It is hard to stay at that level of maximum outrage across multiple albums without the listener’s system getting a bit inured to it.

I would also note that while Fearn is the best composer of dope beats this side of Run the Jewels, it meant that I came into the record with high expectations. There are some particularly good ones on “The Demise of Planet X” but on the whole, earlier records are more consistently excellent. Again, no shade, just the challenge of coming in with a catalogue of work that sets a very high bar.

Subject-matter wise, Williamson treads well-worn ground from earlier records. Society’s ills are on full display, with the wealthy getting wealthier and upper class twits of the year fully in the crosshairs. He also loves to call out individuals that have irritated him, sometimes for their music, sometimes for reasons I wasn’t entirely clear about on my quick skate. We know he’s mad though, with his spitting fiery rap style and all those swears. So many swears.

There are songs calling out consumer culture. “The Unwrap” may be the darkest exploration of retail therapy I’ve ever heard. Buy stuff to fill the hole in your culture. As someone who literally writes a column about all the records I buy this one hit home exactly the way the band intended it to.

There are also tales of youthful trauma, notably “Gina Was” a song that tells the tale of being betrayed by a girl, having your pants pulled down and then ridiculed for the revealed…er…shortcomings. Ha ha ha and all that, but the song is decidedly not funny and a reminder a nasty prank amongst kids can ripple through life for years after.

In this way, this is classic Sleaford Mods fare. Songs with a funky beat that make you bob your head, and spittle-filled ire that gives voice to the frustrated and disenfranchised. Take it just at that level and swear along or dive a level deeper and explore the damage done to the spirit underneath. Heavy stuff, with a head bobbing groove to give you something to celebrate among the devastation.

Best tracks: The Good Life, Double Diamond, Elitest G.O.A.T., Don Draper, Gina Was, Flood the Zone, the Unwrap 

CD Odyssey Disc 1934: Edan

A long day at work was mitigated by a lovely ride home with the top down and listening to this next album for the last time, albeit with some fondness.

Disc 1934 is…Beauty and the Beat

Artist: Edan

Year of Release: 2005

What’s up with the Cover? A collage of heads and some swirly colours.

How I Came To Know It: I discovered Edan through his other record, “Primitive Plus” (reviewed back at Disc 1871). I was on a search for that record when I found this one instead. I was jonesing for some Edan that day, and decided to buy it on spec, and hope for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have two of Edan’s three studio LPs. Of the two, “Beauty and the Beat” is #2.

Ratings: 3 stars

A rapper with a creative flow is a rare and precious thing. One that can blend the dense rhyming you might expect from MF Doom with the furious beat forward delivery of Big Daddy Kane? Well, sign me up.

That’s what Edan brings to the table, and things were primed for me to have a good time except for that all elusive key third ingredient – killer beats. As a result you get a four star talent with some two star creative traditions. The result had me marveling at the brilliance of Edan’s flow, while bemoaning the record that might have been had he been just a little less experimental.

First, to the flow. Edan has an innate and natural talent that on the surface flows through bars with apparent disregard for even the basics of pocket awareness. However, it is all an illusion. In fact, his phrasing is next-level complex, climbing up, down and through complex time signatures with the skill of a jazz master.

And yeah, I know, I sometimes throw shade at jazz, but that doesn’t mean I don’t admire their talent to turn music into high math. That ain’t easy, and neither is what Edan gets up to.

He also does it with a frantic, urgent delivery that is on the very edge of losing the line without ever doing so. It isn’t that Edan never takes a breath – he just takes them in weird places that make it all the more interesting as you hang on for dear life and try to pay attention.

And you’ll want to pay attention, because his rhymes are dense and brilliant. At first blush you might be tempted to think he’s just throwing as many rhymes as he can into a sentence, but you quickly realize the whole thing has a purpose. It’s an art-infused purpose mind you -a free-form inspired stream of consciousness that somehow holds a plot together amid all the chaos.

That all sounds pretty good, but it’s a house built on a foundation of noise art that I just couldn’t get behind. Video game sounds, percussion on what sounds like random objects, jazz samples and amorphous feedback gurgles. There is a lot going on, but what isn’t happening is a consistent grounding beat.

So while that complex soup of sounds is working overtime in Edan’s head, and showcasing his brilliance, there are precious few songs you can tap your foot to. Listening you are struck by how intelligently constructed this record is, but it is also exhausting.

I get it - Edan does not want to make it easy on himself or on you. Like any art, music should challenge you. I just found it too much work and, at times, too clever for its own good.

The signs of this are there on his previous record, “Primitive Plus” but as the name of that record suggests, Edan was paying homage to earlier forms through his new and intriguing style. The tension of old and new works there, and the songs that have a similar approach on “Beauty…” like “Fumbling Over Words that Rhyme” and “Torture Chamber” capture the same magic.

But too often in his pursuit of a new and complex beauty, Edan leaves behind the basics of the beat. It’s deliberate, and it is done very well, but that doesn’t mean I liked it.

And so I am going to reluctantly part with this record, just like years ago when I parted with that bottle of Ardbeg on my scotch shelf. I was tempted to keep it because it looked good and suggested I was cool enough to handle all that complex peat. But the truth is that while I admired it, I didn’t enjoy it. Just like this record.

Best tracks: Fumbling Over Words that Rhyme, Torture Chamber, Making Planets

CD Odyssey Disc 1933: Molly Hatchet

To all the folks who heard me this playing this in my car with the convertible roof down a little loud this week – I’m sorry. I genuinely thought volume would help.

Disc 1933 is…The Deed Is Done

Artist: Molly Hatchet

Year of Release: 1984

What’s up with the Cover? Molly Hatchet loves a good fantasy cover and here we have another winner.

A Death Dealer adjacent character (some dude in black plate mail with an axe) standing in a volcanic region looking tough. He appears to have a pet vulture, but it could just be this bird and the two in the sky behind him are like remoras following a shark. This guy probably kills a lot of folks and following him around would provide plenty of carrion to eat.

It is painted by Ezra Tucker, not Frank Frazetta as the cognitive dissonance in my lazy brain patterns wanted to believe.

How I Came To Know It: I have been a fan of Molly Hatchet since I was a kid, and I vaguely remember seeing this one back in the day, although I never owned it. I recently found this copy in the used section of the local record store at a good price and figured what the hell. It’s Molly Hatchet – how bad could it be?

How It Stacks Up: I have six Molly Hatchet records (their first six). Of those, “The Deed is Done” comes in at #6.

Ratings: 1 star

Sometimes a record sounds like it was made by someone with an old soul, and sometimes a record sounds like it was just made by someone who’s tired. The latter is “The Deed is Done”, which confirmed for me that when I bought my fifth Molly Hatchet record the deed was done, and I should have stopped.

I am usually a sucker for Molly Hatchet’s brand of metal-adjacent swamp-blues boogie. I have lots of it and it is mostly good. Sadly, “The Deed is Done” is a hollowed out soulless version of those earlier efforts.

The worst part is it starts promising. The record’s second song, “Backstabber” rides the ridge of pop anthem and crunchy guitar riff. It’s a dangerous ridge, and the production is steeped in the mistakes of the middle of the 1980s, but I was willing to overlook it and join in with the crowd and clap along – in time or slightly behind the beat depending on how late in the set in the evening it comes on.

However, no other songs were able to overcome the poor decisions made on this record. The opener, “Satisfied Man” should have warned me off, with its rent-a-song lack of originality and “ooh ooh” chants in place of lyrics (also featured on “Backstabber” – but done better). The guitar work is still grimy and good – a staple of Molly Hatchet records – but even that can’t overcome the sheer obviousness of the song’s construction.

At this point, dear reader, I was still feeling charitable and perfectly willing to give out two stars and a kind-hearted ribbing. I do this often – as recently as my last review in fact.

But then “She Does She Does” came along. Another uninspired entry, I was already fidgeting uncomfortably when, two minutes in, the first saxophone solo hit me. If there is a kind of music less suited to this kind of eighties saxophone noodle than Molly Hatchet, I can’t think of what it is. That sax bit is answered by a guitar solo that sounds like someone practicing scales. Almost like the guitars were finally giving up in the face of all the bad decisions.

At 4:30 in, the song was still happening to me when the second saxophone solo hit. Worse and less focused than the last, it goes on for almost two full minutes before ending in the biggest songwriting cop-out available: the fade-out. “She Does She Does” is a song that should never have been born and doesn’t even have the decency to know how to die.

From here I wasn’t feeling too charitable, and it was going to be a long uphill climb back to respectability for the remaining eight tracks. Much love to Molly Hatchet, but they did not pull it off.

Molly Hatchet has always been a sort of throwback band, and bringing their seventies rock vibe into the eighties is a challenge they’ve ably and capably accomplished. Here, they just sounded like a tired bar band, out of touch and spent, but still getting gigs on a Wednesday night.

There were moments where the opportunity was there. “Good Smoke and Whiskey” is a song that is set up to be a good time from the title alone. But nope – we get another tired song, in this case a narrator complaining that he’s losing his car and colour t.v. in the divorce settlement. The kind of guy you’ll meet in one of those seedy bars noted above, who’ll tell you all about it if you make the mistake of returning his smile while ordering a drink.

Each time the guitars chimed in my heart awoke, hoping they’d recapture their former glory, but it would all descend into a sort of Rick Springfield-adjacent radio anthem drowning out all the tough hard-scrabble charm the band is known for.

I have defended Molly Hatchet against all comers for the better part of four decades. I will still defend them overall, but should my debating opponent bring up “The Deed is Done” I will concede the point: this is a bad record.

Best tracks: Backstabber

CD Odyssey Disc 1932: Alestorm

I wore a skull & crossbones pirate tie to work today and while I think it was a random selection, it is also possible the album I’ve been listening to has been sending me subliminal messages.

Disc 1932 is…Back Through Time

Artist: Alestorm

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? Another fine bit of Alestorm artistry. Here we have our undead pirate, with a Viking helmet on the end of his bloody sword (this makes sense if you pay attention to the lyrics). We also have his oft-companion sidekick undead rat, drinking from a Viking horn and doing his best Marty McFly impersonation.

In the background a pirate ship emerges from a time portal. How do we know it’s a time portal and not just a very nasty sideways tornado? Again, the lyrics.

The pirates aboard launch a fiery broadside before they are even out of the rift which seems reckless when dealing with a space/time anomaly, but drunken pirates aren’t known for their circumspection.

How I Came To Know It: I originally passed over this record as one of Alestorm’s lesser efforts, but damn it if I didn’t want more pirate metal. And if you’ve got an itch for pirate metal old Alestorm records are how you scratch it.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Alestorm records, which is all but their most recent (which I will at some point be remedying). I like them all, but I like some of them less than others. Sorting that out is literally what this section of the review is about, and I put “Back Through Time” at #6.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

What would happen if a crew of quest-seekin’, rum drinkin’ pirates went back in time and did combat with Vikings and giant squids? This record would happen.

Yes, Alestorm returns for their third studio album, ready to conquer the waves or at least fire off some pirate metal music at high volume. Lead singer/songwriter Christopher Bowes and his merry crew of musicians know by this point they’ve got a winning formula and they’re not going to deviate from it very far.

As usual we have the frantic pace of power metal, laced with some traditional thump and a whole lot of growl and snarl, as the boys fire off one fast-paced metal banger after another. This being on the folk side of power metal, there are plenty of melodic structures suitable for hauling on a bowline or rowing a jolly boat. Infuse that with some electric guitar and a bit of double-bass drum suitable for throwing your neck out in a mosh pit and you have a good idea of what to expect.

Never let it be said that Alestorm have zero new ideas, however, and on “Back in Time” they keep things fresh by throwing in some time travel. The title track leads things off, a song that features their signature sound – a rollicking melody, jaunty keyboards, crunchy guitar and Bowes’ raspy ribald vocals. It is an admittedly weird mix and, if you’re new to Alestorm, not for everyone.

The song is about the battle between pirates and Vikings and while the idea is a fun one the lyrics are a bit forced with a chorus of:

“You put your faith in Odin and Thor
We put ours in cannons and whores.”

Um…sure.

There’s a lot more forced rhyme and theme-cramming where that comes from, and while this is common to any Alestorm record, I felt like “Back Through Time” could’ve done it better.

Lest you think, however, that Alestorm are not aware of a critic’s impending criticism, or charges that they can’t come up with anything new they literally write a song about it in “Scraping the Barrel”. Best (worst?) of many self-deprecating lines you’ll hear therein:

“Many have told us that we can’t go on
That one day we’ll run out of lyrics for songs
But when the time comes to write album four
We’ll scrape out the barrel once more.”

It’s not a great song and not a great quatrain either (the original quatrain just rolled over in its shallow grave at me even using the phrase) but there’s something to be said for being aware of what you’re doing and doubling down.

Before the album ends Alestorm visit yet more common ground with a song about rum called – you guessed it – “Rum”. This one is a banger, with a chorus that is mostly the shouting of the titular drink in unison, but done with such joyful abandon you will happily join in.

And that’s the not-so-secret formula to Alestorm’s success. They love what they do, they do it well, and most of all, it’s fun. Don’t expect to be musically challenged but do expect to sing along and tap your feet. If you feel embarrassed that they’ve won you over don’t be. You’ve plenty of company and there’s a barrel full of similar songs where these came from.

All that, and I didn’t even get to the giant squid.

Best tracks: Back Through Time, The Sunk’n Norwegian, Rum

CD Odyssey Disc 1931: Shame

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. The weather is getting nice where I live, and this next record was a welcome “take the top down” selection for those with convertibles. For those of you without convertibles, maybe you have a sunroof or something. Or just roll the windows down. Do you.

Disc 1931 is…Cutthroat

Artist: Shame

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? A man rides a motorcycle inside a Wall of Death, which is the name of that carnival structure that lets you ride a motorcycle or car sideways and trust to centrifugal force to prevent you from falling.

These things date back to the 1920s, and I remember Elvis rode in one of these in the 1964 movie Roustabout. Apparently they still exist, but I bet the legal disclaimer you have to sign nowadays is way more exhaustive.

How I Came To Know It: The boring way. I read a review and thought it sounded like it might be in my wheelhouse. Turns out, it was.

How It Stacks Up: Shame has released four studio albums, but I only have the one so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

Wanna party with the disaffected kids, make fun of norms and dance when most people are sleeping? Then “Cutthroat” is a record with the vibe you need.

Shame is a British post-punk band that blend elements of eighties Goth, Lou Reed style punk rock and a little Blur/Gorillaz to make it all danceable. I sense they’re minor celebs in England but less so on this side of the Pond. As with all things, I could care less where it is popular – the test is, is it any good?

Yes, it is and while the record is a mix of solid club bangers and songs that could rightly be considered filler, even the filler is pretty fun for an afternoon drive with the convertible top down.

Things start solidly with the title track, which only vaguely relates to people who cut throats, and in no way relevant to the species of trout with the same name. It seems instead to be about people having fun with little regard for the consequences. The song cleverly straddles the line of how fun it is to do what you want, and how this can – when taken to the extreme – be selfish and empty. The extra layer of clever is how goddamn catchy it is, as you sing along to “why does it hurt to feel so numb?” but the more fervently you lean in and dance, the more ironic things get.

The band does a fine job of disaffection, with songs like “Cowards Around”, which is a long list of ‘cowards’ that is so expansive you are left thinking that it is the narrator with the problem. Sort of like that person who always has a problem with their boss, their friends, or the local barista. Where they don’t seem to realize the one common denominator in all their bad reactions is them. Again, the song lets the subtext linger beneath the surface of a tune that invites you to sing along with all the imagined grievances.

Most of the time, however, you’re just going to enjoy the groove, which is significant. Singer Charlie Steen (not Sheen, Steen) has a gift for phrasing, which is a critical component of songs that sit solidly in the pocket as much as these do. He also does a fine spoken word style approach on songs like “Coward’s Around” and “Lampiao” that is very “cool kid with hair in eyes tells story”.

“Lampiao” is based on a real-life Brazilian bandit from the early twentieth century, with the band bringing some Latin rhythms in, but converted to their own unique punk/groove vibe. While the way Steen (not Sheen) delivers his vocals here is more important than the actual words, I loved this section and how it paints the romanticized portrait of the bandit:

“The governor of the backlands
Sailor of the black sands
With a fillet knife and a strong hand”

Not every song has the same level of literary achievement, but even the boring ones make for good dance numbers. Late in the record “After Party” alerts us that there will be festivities after the show, and that’s the vibe of “Cutthroat” throughout. Listening makes you feel like you’re one of the cool counterculture kids, staying out later than you should, into the early hours of the morning where all the most interesting and dangerous things are bound to happen.

Writing a record that drives you to both carefree fun and the deeper ramifications of that kind of fun is not an easy space to occupy. Shame does a fine job of it and makes me keen to explore their back catalogue.

Best tracks: Cutthroat, Cowards Around, Nothing Better, Lampiao, After Party