CD Odyssey Disc 1953: The Brothers Comatose

A friend remarked to me last night that I tend to review a lot of obscure albums. That may be true, but I’ve got nothing against mainstream artists and have many in my collection. On the other hand, my tastes are wide and varied, and the fickle dice I roll to determine what I’ll explore next care not for the considerations of fame nor notoriety.

Today, the dice gods have decided to stick with the obscure.

Disc 1953 is…Turning Up the Ground

Artist: The Brothers Comatose

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a funky graphic that – like the album title – explores two kinds of ground, one musical and one agricultural.

I like some of the specific choices depicted here. Snail shell or moth? Banjo case full of mushrooms or guitar case full of flowers?

Best of all, you can choose between a shovel with a vine wrapped around it or a shovel with a snake wrapped around it? On first blush, I think vine-over-snake is the obvious and safer bet, but if you’re shoveling snow out of a driveway, you’re really going to need the flat blade on that snake shovel. Just, you know, wear thick gloves.

How I Came To Know It: Another album I found through an album review.

How It Stacks Up: I went on to explore the Brothers Comatose’s discography (they have seven albums) but so far this is the only one that’s landed in my collection, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

After a few days with prog rock band Moon Tooth my ear was ready for something free and easy, and the Dice Gods obliged with the folk/bluegrass stylings of the Brothers Comatose.

If you are expecting creative time signatures and outré chord progressions I would refer you back to Moon Tooth (or better still, just listen to Rush or Tool) but if you enjoy songs you can slap your knee to and harmonies that you can sing along to in confidence after the first couple of verses, this is the band for you.

For some, this simple approach to music might be misinterpreted as meaning the band isn’t good, but nothing could be farther from the truth. The simpler the arrangements to a song, the more important it is the band plays with coordinated skill. That alchemy of quiet individual confidence, and a constant ear to where your bandmates are sitting in the pocket, is what separates good bands from mediocre ones.

On this front, the Brothers Comatose have their artistry down pat. Their songs have a softness to them that relies heavily on casting their spell of relaxation on the listener. Playing light and a bit slow is often much harder than just forcing in as many flourishes as can be squeezed between notes.

That isn’t to say the Brothers Comatose just play by the numbers. “Turning Up the Ground” has just the right amount of small touches of fiddle, mandolin and guitar in space. These aren’t there for technical excellence, but more like a light ripple of wind across tall grass – almost unnoticed but critical to drawing you closer to the natural movement of the whole.

Many of the songs on “Turning Up the Ground” have a transitional feel to them, with explorations of shifting from one thing to another. Sometimes choosing your art over a day job (“Working for Somebody Else”) sometimes the end of a relationship (“That Shit Ain’t Funny”), or maybe just a plea for connection in a time of uncertainty (“When It All Falls Apart”). These songs tend to bring out the best in the band, creative tension being one of the keys to great songwriting.

The tracks are well-ordered, and the best song comes midway with the break-up tune, “That Shit Ain’t Funny”. The song relies heavily on the restless rise and fall of the melody, and while a lot of the chorus climbs through the scale the first thing you hear is a low guitar walk down. This lets the listen know you’re starting from somewhere low, also evidenced by the song’s first line, “I can see through you like paper”. Yeah – things ain’t going well here…

The song also has some first-rate decisions in the arrangement category, starting sparsely with just guitar strum and then slowly building as we add in each member of the band, culminating in a lovely call-and-answer between fiddle and guitar at the bridge. The whole effect captures that sense of determination when you’re at the “pack the car” stage of a break-up, both resolute and also filled with regret.

On my first couple of listens I told myself that this record was nothing special, but on repeat listens its soft and gentle beauty sunk into my bones. My only complaint is that I had intended to just have a “one and done” relationship with this band, and now I realize I’m going to have to explore their entire discography. If the other records are as good as this, I’ll be well-contented, which is exactly the headspace “Turning Up the Ground” will put you in if you give it a chance.

Best tracks: Working for Somebody Else, Soft and Blue, That Shit Ain’t Funny, When it All Falls Apart

CD Odyssey Disc 1952: Moon Tooth

Before we get into today’s review, a quick word of love for the recently departed Dolly Parton. I’ve been a Dolly fan since I measured my years in single digits. I even had a poster of her on my wall growing up.

I have always loved her music, but as years went by I also came to love the person. In addition to being one of country music’s greatest singer-songwriters, Dolly was the personification of grace, acceptance and love. The world will be a colder place in her absence, but I like to think that somewhere out there at some metaphysical version of “Two Doors Down” she’s ‘laughin’ and drinkin’ and havin’ a party.’

Heaven should be so lucky.

Disc 1952 is…Crux

Artist: Moon Tooth

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? It looks like a collapsed temple of some kind, although it has fallen apart in a remarkably symmetrical manner. I ascribe this to the power of the glowing rune etched on that big stone altar.

How I Came To Know It: The usual way – I read a review and decided to check it out. I recall the reviews others did for this record were fairly effusive in their praise. Mine will be less so.

How It Stacks Up: Moon Tooth have at least three studio albums that I know of, but I only have this one, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 2 stars

Something can be good and just not good for you. Therein lies the mystery that is Moon Tooth’s “Crux” and the lowly two stars you see assigned above. Could this band be better than two stars? Quite possibly yes, but not for me.

For those of you not familiar with Moon Tooth, they are a progressive metal band with a sound somewhere halfway between late-era Soundgarden and late-era Rush. That’s some solid parentage from a genre perspective, and given the many kind words I’ve expressed for both those bands, you’d expect some of that love to rub off.

Some does. Starting most notably with the drumming of Ray Marte, which for me is hands-down the best part of this record. Marte is a true technician in the Neil Peart style. While he isn’t the godlike talent that Peart is, he is damned fine at his craft, dealing out complicated rhythms that account for the lion’s share of the record’s frenetic energy.

Vocalist John Carbone edges more toward the deep thrum of Chris Cornell rather than the high-pitched peal of Geddy Lee. Like Peart on the drums, any comparison with Chris Cornell on vocals is bound to come up short, and Carbone is no exception. He has good tone, and great phrasing, but he isn’t going to blow any doors off. It’s solid, but not a star on its own.

The songs are proggy, so if you want some simple thumpers in 4/4 time you are going to be disappointed. This stuff jumps around rather unpredictably. Despite all the complexity the songs are surprisingly catchy, which is always the baseline for progressive rock. At the end of the day, it has to be listenable, and “Crux” is all of that.

But despite the thoughtful composition and the solid musicianship (the guitar and bass are also first-rate), I found it all a bit boring and emotionally unengaging. Worse, it tends to have a self-consciousness that makes the songs feel overblown. In this way it had me thinking of Them Crooked Vultures (reviewed way back at Disc 750) who are similarly technically gifted but left me empty. “Crux” has a better separation of sound than TCV, but it wasn’t enough to make up for something that felt more clever than heartfelt.

Is part of the problem that my range of interest in progressive metal a bit narrow? Undoubtedly, yes. This record is well constructed, well played and worth the price of admission for Marte’s drumming alone. If you are a big fan of progressive rock or metal, you should definitely check these guys out.

But at the end of the day I did not feel the feels, which for me is a dealbreaker. The songs have plenty of dynamic range, but I couldn’t really separate one from the other, and it felt like a series of well thought out musical experiments, as likely to have me staring quizzically as drawing me into a fist-pumping moment of triumph.

So I shall bid Moon Tooth a fond farewell; a puzzle I either couldn’t solve or that didn’t inspire me to try very hard, depending on how you want to see it.

Best tracks: Musketeers, Rhythm and Roar

CD Odyssey Disc 1951: Finsterforst

This next album comes to you slightly delayed, as I have been on a road trip to visit family. This particular road trip’s length calls for about eight albums worth of music, and tradition dictates Sheila gets to pick four and I pick the other four. We’ve been doing this for years and have established some etiquette to ensure we pick records we’ll both enjoy while driving.

This trip the albums were: Black Sabbath - Master of Reality, Boston – Boston, Grace Cummings – Storm Queen, Dick Dale – Mr. Eliminator, Frank Turner – Tape Deck Heart, U2 – All That You Can’t Leave Behind, Wailin’ Jennys – Firecracker, and Jennifer Warnes – Famous Blue Raincoat.

As for the CD Odyssey, it has decided to stick with more metal from the early 2010s.

Disc 1951 is…Rastlos

Artist: Finsterforst

Year of Release: 2012

What’s up with the Cover? An intrepid (and bedraggled) traveler looks out upon a craggy landscape of deep river valleys and majestic peaks.

This looks like it would be one hell of a day hike, and I hope that guy packed a lunch.

How I Came To Know It: This is one of my recently acquired Ross Records, aka albums that I picked up from my friend Ross when he got rid of his CD collection recently.

How It Stacks Up: I snagged a bunch of Finsterforst from Ross, and while the more detailed exploration across multiple listens have yielded mixed results, this is my favourite of the bunch so far. I rank it first or maybe even…forst!

Ratings: 4 stars

The experience of “Rastlos” is that of taking a long, warm, angry bath. You might get in ready to thrash and splash about but you’ll quickly find just lying there simmering with a low-key fury can be surprisingly therapeutic.

You’ll have time to make the adjustment, too. Like all Finsterforst albums, “Rastlos” is long – over 75 minutes of music, spread across a mere seven songs. It’s the kind of music that requires a bit of surrender to enjoy. Don’t meet it head-on, let it come at you like the tide, slow and inexorable, and submerge you.

“Rastlos” is Finsterforst’s third album, and for me the record where they finally get the mix of folk and metal right. It is a bit more black than death to my ear (although I am not and expert in the intricacies of these modern divisions). On previous records the folksy elements clashed with that heavy wall of sound, but here they thread a melodic structure that provides growth and transformation – something I absolutely need to survive songs that routinely surpass 10 minutes’ playing time.

“Rastlos” is the first record with Ollie Berlin taking over the death growl portion of the singing from departed vocalist Marco Schomas. When I reviewed 2009’s “…zum Tode hin” (Disc 1937) I wondered if switching the vocalist would turn the switch for me to liking this band better, and it turns out it has. Berlin’s growl is richer and more melodic and while I can’t say that’s a better experience for others, it was a better experience for me.

The folk elements of the arrangements are well timed as well, providing multiple palate cleanser moments within the epically long songs and keeping things as mysterious as they are aggressive. The guitar riffs are epic and not overused although they could have easily added more without complaint from me.

The songs also feature “clean” vocals courtesy of continuing band member Johannes Joseph, as we all as Viking-chant style chorus moments from a group of fellers called the “Black Forest Choir” which looks to be composed half of regular band members and half guests. All of this gives texture and layers to Finsterforst in a way I didn’t experience on their first two records.

Finsterforst are German and they sing in their native tongue, so I have no idea what they are going on about, but with the help of translation of the titles that range from “Nothing but Ashes (Nichts als Asche)” to “Rush of Flame (Flammenrausch)” I got the impression there was fire involved. I also got the sense of epic journeys across landscapes, but that could just be me projecting from the album cover.

As for the album title, it translates roughly as “restless” and “Rastlos” does have that quality. It isn’t a fidgety restlessness though, but more of a wanderlust and a vision that is big and broad and always reaching outward. These songs are expansive and variably evoked the ocean, fire, or even the thunder of heavy cavalry. Anything that rolls unhindered across a landscape. It makes the listener feel small, but still significant – a witness to something more powerful than yourself.

On earlier records it felt like Finsterforst was just going to go hard to goal and lose the plot along the way. By rounding out their sound and using the length of their songs as a feature to let them properly develop, they’ve landed on something special.

Make no mistake, though. This isn’t easily accessible stuff. It is heavy and intricate, and not friendly to the casual radio listener. But if you can surrender to the heaviness of “Rastlos” it will submerge you into soundscapes of subtlety and power that’ll make that initial shock and shortness of breath all worth it.

Best tracks: Nichts als Asche, Fremd, Stirbt Zuletzt, Ein Lichtstein

CD Odyssey Disc 1950: Sabaton

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey where we have had a month of reviews without metal, but that dismaying trend ends here.

Disc 1950 is…Attero Dominatus

Artist: Sabaton

Year of Release: 2006

What’s up with the Cover? “Hey, mister - looking for a gate to a fantastical alternate dimension?”

“Um…I’ll take the next one thanks. This one looks dangerous and frankly, the entryway is a bit pokey.”

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a late-blooming but ardent Sabaton fan since 2019. This album was just me digging ferociously through their back catalogue.

How It Stacks Up: I now have ten Sabaton albums. I like them all, and “Attero Dominatus” is better than most – I rank it at #3.

Ratings: 4 stars

Behold the majesty and the ferocity of Sabaton, masters of Battle Metal!

Although there are many sub-genres of metal “Battle Metal” is not one of them, but if it were, Sabaton would be its patron saint. This Swedish power metal band like powerful riffs, crashing drums, bombastic vocals and tying it all together, lyrics about history and battles. A lot.

If you can get over that, you won’t like this record. Sabaton’s obsession with historical events (particularly events involving armed conflict) is intrinsic to who they are as a band. If you are listening through gritted teeth hoping for some other topic to arise, you’re just hurting yourself.

If stories about battles are OK with you, then “Attero Dominatus” is some of Sabaton’s best work, and well worth your time. Only their second record, they are already well established in their sound, with every song thundering down on you like an anthem. It is my favourite record featuring the original twin lead guitars of Oskar Montelius and Rikard Sunden and drummer Daniel Mullback (all of whom left after 2012). Like Sabaton’s neutral stance to history, I like both the original and later lineups.

Some power metal bands are obsessed with playing fast and technical. Sabaton are incredibly polished and tight, but they have a thump that is the envy of their peers. A big part of this is the vocals of Joakim Broden. His voice is low and powerful, eschewing head-voice contortions for a big booming vocal that lends gravitas to lyrics that, in lesser hands, could come off stilted and overly literal.

This album also consistently delivers some the finest guitar riffs in Sabaton’s impressive catalogue. Even the songs I liked slightly less still featured killer fist-pumping guitar bits.

Sabaton don't shy away from any conflict, but World War Two is an oft-visited theme.  "Rise of Evil” is particularly grim as it recounts the story of the rise of Nazism in thirties Germany. Choosing a more ponderous tempo than many other songs on the record, there is a deliberateness to the song, fed by Mullback’s heavy drum hits and a double guitar riff. It evokes an army on the move, a society in upheaval, and a descent into darkness. It is intentionally discomfiting and the track’s title frames the moment for what it was – the rise of evil.

Fortunately, the album’s title track provides a welcome thematic bookend to “Rise of Evil”, as it tells of the last days of Nazi reign as Berlin falls.  Here, Mullback’s drumming switches from deliberate thump to a fast-paced and front-end loaded roll, providing a sense of urgency as the long and violent conflict finally finds an end.

This being only the second record from Sabaton, they are not 100% converted to historical songs. The record’s final track, “Metal Crue” is a lighthearted celebration of heavy metal bands. The lyrics work overtime to include reference to a long list of metal band names that came before (I think there are about 20 dropped names in just 3:45 of running time). Technically this is a sort of history of metal, so maybe the boys stay on theme after all. Not the record’s best song by any stretch, and admittedly a bit silly, but also quite a lot of fun.

My copy of “Attero Dominatus” is the “re-armed” release, which has five bonus tracks, most of which I was glad to have. The highlight is a cover of Warlock’s “Fur Immer” which is majestic and masterful (and has me wanting to check out vintage Warlock records as well). The other bonus content isn’t as good, but good enough to not wreck the original record’s energy.

Overall, this is easily my favourite of Sabaton’s early work, and stands equal alongside some of my perennial favourites released later in their career. If you are a fan of Battle Metal, then this record is a must have. If you aren’t, congratulations on getting to the end of the review, but here your journey is likely to end.

Best tracks: Attero Dominatus, Rise of Evil, In the Name of God, Back in Control

CD Odyssey Disc 1949: M(h)aol

A rare Friday review resulting from my being at home today waiting for some building infrastructure to be installed. Rather than feeling trapped, I’m going to take the opportunity to get some tasks done around the house that I’ve been putting off.

Before that, though, let’s procrastinate with a music review! The sixth of the last eight of an album released in 2025, so that trend continues…

Disc 1949 is…Something Soft

Artist: M(h)aol

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Kitty on a balcony! I give this cover an enthusiastic 5 out of 5, as any day where you spot a kitty on a balcony is a good day.

Also, cats are my #1 favourite thing in the “something soft” category.

How I Came To Know It: The boring way. I read a review of this album somewhere (I think Paste Magazine) and decided to check them out.

How It Stacks Up: I have two M(h)aol albums. “Something Soft” comes in at #2, making it good for the silver medal or last, depending on what kind of day you are having. I hope it is the first kind.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Loud noises!” yells weatherman Brick Tamland in a scene from Anchorman, not sure what is happening but overcome by all the cacophony. The sexist Channel 4 Newsroom would have a similarly tough time with the feminist stylings of Irish post-punk band M(h)aol, who deploy a broad swathe of jarring bangs and thumps while delivering their message.

It’s creative, thoughtful music that is sneaky smart in the way it pulls together noise and fury in a way that seems random when the wave first hits you, but that you quickly realize is done with clear intent. The better question for me wasn’t “is it good?” - it is - but rather, “did I enjoy it?”

Eventually, yes.

To tuck in a bit on this mixed reaction, it’s important to acknowledge my bias for some chord progressions and resolution in my music. I like my death metal melodic, not technical. And when it comes to post-punk, the bias spills in there as well.

So my first reaction was, admittedly, to the loud noises, and M(h)aol find and deploy a lot of them. The record is very heavy on syncopation, with drum and bass forward in the mix, crashing about like an unbolted piston in an engine room bouncing off the walls – unpredictable and dangerous. Even the guitars are mostly short repeating chords designed to add more thump.

Constance Keane takes over singing duties from departed band member Roisin Nic Ghearailt, delivering most songs in a low spoken-word rhythmic monotone. It is similar to Wet Leg but with less playfulness and more dread. In that style phrasing and timing are critical elements, and Keane (who is also the band’s drummer) hits her spots nicely.

Most of the songs fail to develop beyond their initial theme. They often get louder and more crowded with sounds but it is mostly about establishing a single musical theme, encircling that theme like a python, and squeezing it with ever-increasing intensity.

There was the ever-present threat of boredom from my melodically-biased aesthetic, but the band never lets the song go on long enough for me to get fidgety. Most are over in under three minutes.

The lyrics tag up with the musical approach, often being a phrase or two repeated over and over. Themes tend to be dark: abandonment, fear of partner violence, the death of a pet (n.b. it is a dog, despite the record’s cover, which I found both misleading and disappointing).

There is a lot of ‘tells’ here that point me to not liking this record. No melodic resolution? No narrative in the lyrics? Coming off a record full of folk and Celtic folk I was primed and ready to be unhappy.

Thing is, M(h)aol is just too good at what they do. The more I listened, the more I caught the magic of what they were doing.

Musically, the noise has focus and intent, and it drives deep in the marrow the more you listen. There are layers to it (better heard on headphones FYI) that pull you into an almost trance-like state. And because the songs are short, I could just appreciate the moment rather than getting caught up in what came next.

Despite limited lyrical content, the phrases M(h)aol choose land with maximum impact. For the dead dog, a simple and insistent repeat of “you should be here”. A gut punch for any loss of a loved one, which often rolls over and over in your mind as you grieve, just like the song.

On IBS, Keane sings/speaks, “Roll over/3 A.M. You’re Still Here/And I Ask Myself “Will You Hurt Me?” We don’t know the kind of hurt involved – physical, emotional, or just someone getting up and leaving before the dawn. We do know the universal anxiety and vulnerability of opening up to someone and wondering what’s next. And just like anxiety wonders such things over and over in a loop, so does the song.

When you do something well, you can overcome a lot. “Something Soft” was not in my musical wheelhouse. It wasn’t even on the ships I tend to sail. Rather, it was more of a ship passing by, purposefully pounding its way through the chop; a bit ungainly for my tastes, but you have to admire the sturdiness of the hull and the skill of the captain.

Best tracks: Pursuit, You Are Temporary But the Internet is Forever, IBS, 1-800-Call-Me-Back

CD Odyssey Disc 1948: Carpenter, Fowlis, and Polwart

Welcome back to the Odyssey, where today we celebrate my favourite kind of supergroup – the obscure supergroup! Can you be obscure and still be a supergroup? Well, here on the CD Odyssey we say emphatically – yes!

In other news this is the fifth album of the last seven to be released in 2025, so if the thread you’re looking for is a common one – there you have it.

Disc 1948 is…Looking for the Thread

Artist: Mary Chapin Carpenter, Julie Fowlis, Karine Polwart

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? At first I thought this cover was a bunch of stars, but Sheila tells me these are birds, and I am inclined to agree.

How I Came To Know It: I am Mary Chapin Carpenter fan and I always give any new album from her a chance. This doesn’t always land like it used to, and I have only bought four of her last 11 records.

Enter, “Looking for the Thread” into this uncertain atmosphere, with a couple of additional musicians sharing the bill just to complicate matters further. How will it all pan out? Read on!

How It Stacks Up: I have nine Mary Chapin Carpenter albums, but this is a Carpenter/Fowlis/Polwart album. I’ve only got one of those, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

I don’t know what inspired Mary Chapin Carpenter to share two thirds of her record with a couple of Scottish folk singers, but it breathes new life into her work almost forty years removed from her first record and brought two other talented singer-songwriters to my attention in the process.

Listening to Carpenter add Scots Gaelic inspiration to her work felt like a full circle moment for me. My first love of folk music came in the late eighties through the experience of Irish and Scottish folk artists. I ate up everything Clannad and Capercaillie could put out back then, as I weaned myself (temporarily as it turned out) from my heavy metal youth.

Carpenter was an early influence on me to expand my horizons westward, showing me that Americana folk music was equally compelling and worth my time and attention. All these years later, Carpenter returns me to my first love and infuses a new sound and approach into her own music in the process. Suffice it to say I was primed to like this record.

Things begin with Julie Fowlis putting new music to the traditional folk song, “Gradh Geal Mo Chridhe”. Stylistically, this song was an immediate trip down memory lane, with Fowlis’s voice pealing out into the night air (n.b. I listened during the day but the song has a “hear it at night” kind of vibe).

The low hum in the production, and the slow adding of instruments in the arrangement gives the song a building majesty that was everything I loved about Scottish music back in the day. It was like a lost lover returned from across the sea to serenade me. The whole tune is in Gaelic but you don’t need to understand the lyrics word for word for Fowlis to make you feel the feels. This song has romance in its bones.

The tune features a very resonant sounding fiddle, which I was to learn (via liner notes and a Youtube video) is Caomhin O’Raghallaigh playing an instrument called the ‘hardanger d’amore’. This is basically a big fiddle with some extra stings under the bridge that pick up the vibrations above and add extra oomph. I’d never heard of this thing before, but I was instantly enthralled with its haunting resonance.

After Fowlis lands a big moment in the record's opening notes, Mary Chapin Carpenter then joins the fray. “A Heart That Never Closes” features a list of domestic imagery all held together by the most powerful glue society ever concocted: the open heart. Fowlis (I think) comes in late with some well-placed whistle (the instrument, not the pursed lips) to add gravitas and colour in the edges.

Rounding out the record’s exceptional opening is Karine Polwart’s “Rebecca”, a song that takes on a bit of darkness, as the titular character is invited by her lover thusly:

“Trace your fingers along the scars
Where the cold steel tried to cut me down
They will never truly heal.”

The song never explains where these wounds came from, or what was sacrificed or won in the gaining of them. Maybe an old fighter home from the wars, maybe the result of a duel preserving Rebecca’s honour. It’s never said, but you can tell from the way Polwart’s light but deliberate Scottish lilt delivers them, it is one hell of a story.

The vocals of Fowlis, Polwart and Carpenter are all equally rich, each in its own way. Fowlis pure and high, Carpenter’s throaty low notes and Polwart with the sharpest edge – both vocally and in subject matter.

While the rest of the record never hits the same 1-2-3 punch of the opener, there is still plenty to recommend. A late favourite is Carpenter’s “Satellite” which is about some sort of space exploration device launched in ‘78. My poorly informed research suggests it could be the Pioneer Venus Multiprobe, the International Cometary Explorer, or some made up mission in the future where ’78 is short for 2078. My bet is on the International Cometary Explorer, but that’s not what’s important.

What is important is that deep space scientific probes aren’t the sort of thing that populate your average folk song. Not only does Carpenter sell you on the adventure, by the end she has you rooting hard for the damn thing like it’s a person.

Each of these artists has had a long career, and each clearly inspires the other two to make great music. The result is a fine bit of collaboration that not only has me happily returning to Mary Chapin Carpenter but also discovering two artists that it is my great shame to not have known sooner. I’m excited to explore further now that I’ve found the thread.

Best tracks: Gradh Geal Mo Chridhe, A Heart That Never Closes, Rebecca, Hold Everything, Satellite, Buidheann Mo Chridhe Clann Ualraig

CD Odyssey Disc 1947: The Head and the Heart

I usually review an album on Saturday but I’m getting an early start on this one so that I can remove it from my car, my MP3 player, and my life.

Disc 1947 is…Aperture

Artist: The Head and the Heart

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Indistinct silhouettes in the fading light. This cover has very little to recommend it, which is not unlike my experience with this record.

How I Came To Know It: I first heard Head and the Heart in 2010 when they released their eponymous debut. I liked that record quite a bit, and over the years it’s afterglow has caused me to give their new releases a chance. Sometimes I like them, more often I don’t. I gave “Aperture” half a listen to and figured was good enough to buy.

How It Stacks Up: The Head and the Heart have six studio albums and I own three of them. Of those three, “Aperture” comes in at #3.

Ratings: 2 stars

“Aperture” is a perfectly pleasant 45 minutes of your life, as long as you don’t expect too much and don’t listen too hard. Since that’s not at all how I approach music, my experience was somewhere south of pleasant.

It’s my own fault. I explore a lot of new music in a year, and while an album gets my full and undivided attention when I review it, my first listen can sometimes find me distracted, with the music a bit in the background, as I wait for it to grab my attention. “Aperture” never grabbed my attention, but it felt consistently OK, and I figured it would grow on me.

Instead, this record revealed itself to be a surface beauty only. That girl at the bar that at a glance you want to talk to until you, you know, actually talk to her.

The record is easy early, with vocals that have a lovely tone that is smooth and rich, with production to match. However, it is all a bit too produced – too much smooth and not enough rich. The effect feels a bit “singing competition” for me, losing much of the edge of their 2010 release. They are without one of the cofounders these days (Josiah Johnson). This could be part of the challenge, but having only dabbled off and on with the Head and the Heart over the years, I don’t feel sufficiently informed to say.

Beyond this, there were two things that set me off in the wrong direction: the structure of the songs and the lyrics. Those are two pretty big things, and no amount of smooth production or silky vocals was going to fix it.

First, the song structures, which have lost the band’s indie creativity and just feel like any generic song you’re likely to hear on pop radio. It took me to a bad headspace of being out later in the evening at a music festival, where some “next new thing” band has drunken concert goers chanting along to deliberately constructed “singalong” chorus moments. And not the good “Frank Turner” singalong that draws you out with poetic inspiration, but more the manipulative kind based on a catchy rhythm and little else.

I like festivals, but that moment where the experience switches from being about the music and becomes about being there and taking photos of yourself to prove it (usually around 7-8 p.m.) is my least favourite window. It just feels like the soul of the show empties out, and realizing my feet hurt and, unable to face another Sunday evening port-a-potty, I turn and go. Behind me I imagine some stock anthem pop to keep the masses entertained and drinking, but before the headliner takes the stage. That’s this record.

The lyrics were my other challenge, with song after song being a cobbling together of cliché imagery and generalities. Probably lots of music I like has this problem, but all I can say is here is where I noticed it. “Nothing left to lose”, “someone’s gonna break your heart again/that’s just proof that you’re alive”, “I’m gonna tell you straight from the heart” and on it goes.

Not the only place you’ll encounter these shortcuts but combined with very “by the book” music you get the impression of a band taking exactly zero artistic chances. By the time the final song (“Aperture”) sang out these fateful lines:

“You get tired of hearing “it is what it is”
You’ll never rise above it”

I was thinking my own cliché in response – ‘I couldn’t agree more’.

There are bright spots here and there. The songs may be unimaginative but they’re not jarring or outright terrible. “Cop Car” is a little gem of a tune about getting arrested that captures some of the band’s early magic.

But there aren’t enough of these moments and mostly I was bored, and ready to leave early. And so here’s a Friday evening review where I’m doing just that.

Best tracks: Beg Steal or Borrow, Cop Car

CD Odyssey Disc 1946: Killer Mike

Last week I bought my first El-P album. More about that when I roll it (randomly) but for now let’s talk about a magical time when El-P partnered up with a man who would become his long-time collaborator.

Disc 1946 is…R.A.P. Music

Artist: Killer Mike

Year of Release: 2012

What’s up with the Cover? Killer Mike, chillin’ in Adidas.

My amazing and talented fashion blogging partner Sheila also loves Adidas (as recently as today!) and I think she wears it better. Sure Killer Mike’s the better rapper of the two, but where is he when I need to know if my tie goes with my shirt? Off rappin’ somewhere…

How I Came To Know It: I came backwards to Killer Mike: after finding out he was one half of Run the Jewels I dug into his back catalogue as a solo artist. And here we are.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Killer Mike albums, and “R.A.P. Music” is the B.E.S.T. #1.

Ratings: 5 stars

Before “R.A.P. Music” you will encounter many a fine Killer Mike record but those early records are missing a secret weapon: El-P. A year later these two brilliant artists would fuse together to create Run the Jewels, and on “R.A.P. Music” you get an early offering of just how great a partnership it is going to be.

The infusion of El-P’s brilliant production, and his mastery of beat and rhythm elevates “R.A.P. Music” to another level and results in what is Killer Mike’s finest record.

When I say “finest” it doesn’t mean friendliest, though, and “R.A.P. Music” is a furious, sometimes downright challenging record, as Killer Mike takes no prisoners. If you are easily offended or if the occasional curse word makes you blush and cover your mouth and sputter a high-pitched “oh, my!” then this record is not for you. You have been warned.

OK, still with me? Because if you aren’t easily offended you will find yourself treated to one of the finest rap records made in this or any era. You don’t have to agree with what Killer Mike says, but getting inside the dark constellation of ideas and concepts that he explores on “R.A.P. Music” it is clear he’s not afraid of the sharp edges of the pulpit.

“Big Beast” is the introductory track to “R.A.P. Music”, an expletive-laced shot of energy where Mike makes clear what you can expect for the next 45 minutes and change. In it he describes his style:

“I don’t make dance music this is R.A.P.
Opposite all that sucker shit they play on TV”

Worth noting that that’s one of the few lines in the song you can quote in company.

As for his flow, Killer Mike has one of the best in the business, a ball of fury careening down a mountain, controlled just enough to make sure it hits every sensibility it encounters on the way. Often when you get someone flowing as fast as Mike does it comes off light and traipsing. Somehow Mike goes just as fast, but where every line drops as hard as a lead weight.

Helping considerably is the skill of El-P, who has an exceptional ability to reinvent very old beat structures into something new and futuristic.

“R.A.P. Music” has plenty of anger and thump throughout, but it also shows melodic variance that keeps you engaged, finding time for a song like “JoJo’s Chillin’” which feels more like a cross between Jackie Brown and Ocean’s Eleven.

As the record progresses Killer Mike also explores more of his youth and experiences. These individual vignettes of his life are just as compelling in their intimacy as his grand political statements. The range of emotion and experience is part of what makes the record better and better on repeat listens.

That range is not limited to the lyrics. On “Ghetto Gospel” the duo throw in echoes of church singing for good measure, showing that you can slip a little techno into your worship, mix in some relationship drama, thump out some of Killer Mike’s rap talent and have it all come out the other end bigger and better than any of its component parts.

There was a time when I would have said that El-P and Killer Mike first achieved perfection on the second Run the Jewels album, but that was before I knew about their pre-history. “R.A.P. Music” is all the things that make RTJ one of my favourite artists, only in the before times. Sure it would benefit from a bit more El-P on the mic, but all the ingredients of their awesomeness are here, and what’s more, it’s all for the first time.

For letting me experience the magic of El-P/Killer Mike all over again, but making me feel like it was the first time, I’m giving this record the full five stars.

Best tracks: all tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1945: Ketch Secor

This is the third review in the last four that came out in 2025. While I select albums randomly every time, it does show I bought plenty of music in 2025. And every other year.

Disc 1945 is…Story the Crow Told Me

Artist: Ketch Secor

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Ketch Secor channels the Fonz.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a fan of Old Crow Medicine Show for a long time, and Secor is the singer and key songwriter for that band, so when he released a solo record, I figured it was worth a listen.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only solo record by Secor, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

Ketch Secor’s “Story the Crow Told Me” is part love letter to all the music that influenced him, and part thank you to everyone who helped him along the way. It’s a grateful and gracious record that tickles your ears and warms your heart.

Secor has plenty of material to draw on for such a retrospective, having navigated the highways of the world for 25 years as part of Old Crow Medicine Show. In lesser hands such a journey could feel self-indulgent, but this record is authentic and heartfelt throughout.

From the personal, Secor digs deep into his early experiences, busking his way across Canada and America, playing various holes in the wall (there is even a song called “Holes in the Wall” that honours them by name).

The songs have all the jump and energy that you’d expect on a full-blown OCMS album, supported by his OCMS band mates in several places, as well as additional star power of Molly Tuttle on harmony and even an appearance by the legendary Marty Stuart. The energy of the record is infectious, with hand-claps and sing-a-long choruses that make you feel like you’re part of the band, or at least in the front row of the show.

There isn’t anything particularly innovative on this record – it is the mélange of sounds typical of OCMS, mixing bluegrass, Americana, and country, but what it lacks in creativity it makes up for with veteran songwriting that delivers banger after banger.

Secor has assembled a band that is as tight and talented as they come, mostly settling down in the front of the pocket bluegrass style. It creates a jump and energy that makes it impossible to sit still. Matching the subject matter of the songs, the music is celebratory and lively.

Secor’s vocals are sneaky good. These songs don’t require a huge vocal range but they do call for elite timing and phrasing, and Secor delivers throughout. The effect is one of an expert storyteller, knowing how to lean in or out, complete with micropauses to emphasize punchlines and emotional notes when the moment demands. He’s so smooth at this that you’re liable to not notice, but it is worth the extra focus to appreciate his uncanny sense of timing.

In addition to revisiting his own personal journey through music, the record is also replete with music history. If you’re a fan of the history of Americana, folk and country music, there are Easter Eggs aplenty here. On “On the Wall” Secor celebrates getting your picture up on the wall alongside Hank Williams and Little Jimmy Dickens. The song is a mix of pride and humility as Secor reflects on the mark he too has made on music.

The album’s last song, “What Nashville Was” is the only negative moment on the record, as Secor laments the decline of Nashville’s music scene from a centre of creative excellence to the empty calories of new country that emerged in the nineties. Secor artfully blends in sections of Bob Dylan’s “Girl from the North Country”, plus samples of Johnny Cash, all mixed in with his own quick-witted perfectly timed message.

While the song takes more than a few shots at Nashville’s creative decline, ultimately this too is a love letter to not only what Nashville was, but that the idea of Nashville endures, or as Secor puts it, “still running in our blood”. Having been to Nashville, I can understand the dichotomy. Sure the Honky Tonk Highway can be a drunken mess of broken dreams, but just off the strip there are still plenty of artists working away making great music, and the heart of the town still beats today as strong as ever.

“Story the Crow Told Me” is a thoughtful journey through all the great music that paved the way in Secor’s journey, paired with all the people that contributed to his success along the way. It’s also a toe-tapping good time that just gets better and better on each listen.

Best tracks: Busker’s Spell, Talkin’ Doc Blues, Old Man River, Catch Me If You Can, Thanks Again, What Nashville Was

CD Odyssey Disc 1944: Courtney Marie Andrews

It’s another fine day as we look to an artist that I saw live just three months ago. This time we go back over ten years to early in her career.

Disc 1944 is…On My Page

Artist: Courtney Marie Andrews

Year of Release: 2013

What’s up with the Cover? A wistful looking lass (Andrews) decides if it is time to untie those heavy curtains. Probably depends on whether the light is hitting the TV funny.

At least that’s what determines curtain use at our place.

How I Came To Know It: I have been a fan of Andrews for about ten years now. “On My Page” is a re-release of an album even earlier than that, which I snapped up when I saw it in the record store.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Courtney Marie Andrews records. “On My Page” is solidly in the middle. I’ll rank it #4

Ratings: 3 stars

Soft, understated, and emotionally powerful, “On My Page” is a record of a young Courtney Marie Andrews finding her voice. This is the flower of Andrews’ talent in the dawning light: a little fragile but full of beauty and promise.

With later records like “Loose Future” (2022) and “Valentine” (2026) (Disc 1915) you’ll hear me throw some occasional shade on all the production elements going on. Given how good those records are, you’d be justified to ask just what my problem is.

The answer is no problem at all, except that early records like “On My Page” have spoiled me with the pure Andrews experience - the undiluted stuff.

I could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of singers that could break your heart with just their quaver, and Courtney Marie Andrews is one of them. Her vocals rise up through the arrangement with effortless power but yet always present as soft and vulnerable.

The opening track, “Woman of Many Colors” shows how aware Andrews is at using her instrument. The song starts at the highest point in the melody. It is sneaky hard to do what she does here and not come off pitchy, but it allows the song to immediately generate a restlessness. The lyrics double down on the effect with a clever turn on a coat of many colours, Andrews instead makes herself the patchwork of experience – living art.

In this early stage we have very limited arrangements, and while “Woman of Many Colors” has guitar, piano, some sort of shaker and (I think) a bass, it is all very subdued – more of a delivery system for the bird song of her voice as she shows you the artful joy of flitting from place to place and thought to thought.

This song is followed up by “This Time” which has more of a traditional anthem quality. Because of the nature of Andrews’ singing style she doesn’t need to belt it out to make you feel the feels. If anything, that slight hurt in the back of her throat is what makes you know how well she’s earned it as she delivers a refrain of “I ain’t goin’ back…this time.”

The songwriting on the album shows early and intense talent, and Andrews’ propensity for making private moments reflect as universal is already well developed, despite her still being in her early twenties when this record was recorded.

If there was a quibble, it would be that one of the records great assets – its quietness – can sometimes make it a bit harder to access. You get less hooks in the melodies and the instruments are often there more as a delivery vehicle for the poetry. This isn’t a bad thing, but it means to love the record that way it deserves to be loved requires you to bend your full attention to it and let the quiet moments slip into you.

There is also a similarity between the songs that later in the record can lead your mind to wander. A few years later, Andrews will have added just that extra amount of range and songwriting chops that take the concepts she’s trying out here and convert them into the masterpiece that is 2016’s “An Honest Life” (reviewed at Disc 1081). “On My Page” isn’t quite at that level, but all the ingredients are there, vibrant and on the verge of full bloom. It’s a prequel that is well worth the listen.

Best tracks: Woman of Many Colors, This Time, It Keeps Going, 500 Nights