CD Odyssey Disc 525: Nick Cave

You know those weeks where you have a whole bunch of little chores?  Not just work chores, although definitely those.  I mean home chores, community chores, just a bunch of little things that need doing.  I’m having one of those weeks.  I know from experience if you just chip away at them one at a time they’re gone in no time, but that doesn’t change that harried feeling between then and now.

Maybe I’ve got the Abattoir Blues…

Disc 525 is…. Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus

 And here's the reverse side...

Artist: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Year of Release: 2004

What’s up with the Cover?  Two covers for a two album set – one on each side.  With the inset flowers and the fabric cover it has a very arts and crafts feel to it, which I don’t love.  Also it makes the whole thing a bit boxy and uneven on my CD shelf. 

Still, the flower pictures are pleasant.  It is one of my regrets that I can’t name flowers by sight like Sheila can (I think she got a badge for it in Girl Scouts).

How I Came To Know It:  I was already a Nick Cave fan, so getting this album was just me drilling through his collection.

How It Stacks Up:  I’ve recently purchased Nick Cave’s latest release, “Push the Sky Away” which brings my new total to eight albums.  “Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus is pretty high up the pecking order.  I’ll say third, just edging out “No More Shall We Part” (reviewed way back at Disc 65).

Rating:  4 stars, and a hair-line from 5

This album is so affecting to a friend of mine that he can’t listen to it while out walking around in public because the experience is too intense.  While I can’t attest to that level of a reaction, “Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus” is a deeply affecting album.  I am not at all surprised that it gets people worked up; I expect that is what Nick Cave wants to happen.

This album sees Cave take the rock elements he started to introduce more strongly on “Nocturama” (reviewed at Disc 370) and fully integrate them with his folk-punk delivery.  “Nocturama” was a bit sleepy at times, but “Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus” has a much stronger energy throughout.  This album really reaches down your throat and clenches its fist around some of your innards.  It can feel a bit violent at times, but only in a good way.  Even the screeching discordant guitar pieces are perfectly placed to add atmosphere.

As ever, the arrangements on this record are pure Bad Seeds genius.  Rock guitar, harmonies reminiscent of Gregorian chants, whistles, maracas and wistful piano.  The musical choices are all over the place, but never in a gratuitous “look at what we can do” kind of way.  Each decision serves the song, and the mood that it is trying to convey.

As the title might suggest “Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus” isn’t so much a double album as two separate albums sold together.  They have enough in common musically that it makes sense that they travel as a pair, but there are enough details to separate them.

Overall “Abattoir Blues” is a bit more up tempo and rock driven, whereas “Lyre of Orpheus” is a bit more whimsical and relaxed.  Most artists releasing two albums together (or even a double album) end up with a bloated project, where half the songs should have been left on the studio floor.

Not so, “Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus” which, despite being two albums is only seventeen songs.  I might quibble on one or two but it would be just that; even the weaker songs serve as important bridges between the high points.  They’re like the cables on a suspension bridge, lending support to the project and creating a prettier profile in the process.

Lyrically, Cave is as good as he ever was, and his delivery is brilliant.  He’s like a dirty-minded, perverted spoken word poet, and every line that drips off his tongue seems destined to seduce you.

Speaking of which, this album features one of my absolute favourite love songs of all time, “Babe, You Turn Me On.”  Appearing on “Lyre of Orpheus,” this song starts with Cave a brilliant combination of the pastoral and the pornographic:

“The butcher bird makes it’s noice

And asks you to agree

With its brutal nesting habits

And its pointless savagery

Now, the nightingale sings to you

And raises up the ante

I put one hand on your round ripe heart

And the other down your panties.”

Damn, that’s good stuff.  Later Cave sings of various ways his woman turns him on, combining the gentle with the explosive.  My favourite:  “Babe you turn me on…like an idea/Like an atom bomb.”  That’s romantic love right there, my friends.

The album is so drenched in brilliant lyrics as Cave effortlessly mixes ancient mythology and references to the modern world, then gets high minded and erudite, only to swiftly reveal a delightfully filthy mind.  The images tug at one another, never causing discord, only tension.

As tempting as it is, however, to over-quote this record would be to do it an injustice, because without Cave’s masterful delivery some of the impact is lost, and these lines deserve all of their impact.

The opening salvo of “Get Ready for Love” as the opening track on “Abattoir Blues” tells you that this will be an emotional journey on sometimes rough seas, but how that rough journey can be invigorating.  The last song on “Lyre of Orpheus” is the hymn-like “O Children,” the final line of which forebodingly advises us “And the train ain’t even left the station.”  It is a reminder that despite all our exploration, life, love and lust are wide and ever-uncharted seas.  That’s why we sail on them, with Nick serving as our wild-eyed and maniacal steersman; shouting challenges into the eye of the storm.

Best tracks:

From “Abattoir Blues”:  Cannibal’s Hymn, Hiding All Away, There She Goes My Beautiful World, Abattoir Blues

From “Lyre of Orpheus”:  The Lyre of Orpheus, Breathless, Babe You Turn Me On, Easy Money, Carry Me, O Children

CD Odyssey Disc 524: The Smiths

My last blog entry was right after a Bruins game and this one is right before one.  I went to buy another jersey today with some birthday money, but I couldn’t choose the player. 

I’ve narrowed it down to #37 Patrice Bergeron (my favourite player, but I have a Team Canada jersey with him already), #20 Dan Paille (love the idea of having a 4^th line player, and I love the way Paille plays) and #55 Johnny Boychuk (is there a better hockey name than Johnny Boychuk?).  All of them also meet my criteria for being Canadian boys (most of the Bruins are Canadians, in fact – so put that it in your pipe and smoke it, you people who say you shouldn’t support “American” teams).

On to the next album which is not exactly stadium rock.

Disc 524 is…. Louder Than Bombs

"I fall on the thorns of life!  I bleed!"

Artist: The Smiths

Year of Release: 1987

What’s up with the Cover?  The second cover in a row featuring someone smoking.  In this case we have some anonymous woman who looks like she has a bit of a headache.  This cover is alright, and I like the orange tones.

How I Came To Know It:  Sheila introduced me to the Smiths.  When I was in high school I had heard of them, but it was mostly in the context of mocking their “O Woe Is Me!” attitude.

How It Stacks Up:  We have two Smiths albums; this one and “The Queen is Dead.”  Technically this is a compilation album (of various singles) but it isn’t really a best of, since only one of these tracks (“Hand in Glove”) is on a previous studio album, so I think it can be ‘stacked up.’  I like it about equally with “The Queen Is Dead” but I’ll put it second just because it is a little too long.

Rating:  Again, even though this is a compilation, since it is really a collection of singles, it is its own entity, so I’m going to rate it.  I give “Louder Than Bombs” a solid three stars, really close to four, but not quite there.

“Louder Than Bombs” is music for when you want to wallow in a little detached sorrow, but you still want the option to do a little eighties dancing if you feel so inclined.  It isn’t an album about being actually sad so much as being interested in exploring the idea of being sad.

In this way it represents the origins of the annoying ironic detachment so prevalent in modern indie music.  I suspect those bands have a deep affection for the Smiths.  They mastered this emotional doublethink.  It is a difficult thing to pull off, as is evidenced by the glut of terribly indie music dominating the airwaves these days, but the Smiths manage to make it work.

The maudlin lyrics range from ridiculous to over-the-top to actually poignant and then back to ridiculous again.  The excessiveness moroseness has a surprising charm to it.  The two best songs for this are “Half a Person” and “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now.”  With titles like these you would expect some serious self-pity, and that’s exactly what you get.  “Half A Person” has perhaps the most pitiable lyric in music:

“And if you have five seconds to spare

Then I’ll tell you the story of my life:

Sixteen, clumsy and shy”

Running a close second to this “I’m insignificant and awkward” moment is this little gem from “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”:

“I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour

But heaven knows I’m miserable now

I was looking for a job and then I found a job

And heaven knows I’m miserable now.”

Is it wrong that I actually find these lines humorous?  Probably a little given they likely had a deep psychological impact on teenage Goth girls in their day.  I’ve always had a soft spot for Goth girls, and find them generally pretty, but maybe part of it is just a desire to comfort them.  You know, put my arm around their shoulders and let them know that things aren’t so bad, and that they should stop taking Morrissey too seriously.  He does that enough himself.

A big part of the genius of “Louder Than Bombs” is Morrissey’s voice, which is able to deliver just the right amount of pathos so that the edges of the overblown lyrics have a hint of humour.

Some songs actually managed to worm their way into my emotional core despite my best efforts to prevent it (not those two above, mind you – those are good songs, but they’re still patently ridiculous).

Most obviously is “Sheila Take A Bow” which always makes me think of my favourite person – my wife Sheila!  Sheila take a bow, indeed!  In fact, take two.  I wish there was an equivalent ‘Logan’ anthem, but no such luck.

The other is “Panic” which sums up how I feel about the many terrifically bad amateur and semi-professional DJs I’ve encountered in my life:

“Burn down the Disco

Hang the blessed D.J.

Because the music that they constantly play

It says nothing to me about my life.”

The song ends with an enthusiastic repeat of “Hang the D.J.!  Hang the D.J.!” which is immensely satisfying to sing along to.  For all the pointless dub-step and techno these purveyors of boredom have ever assaulted my ears with; for all the times they refused to take a request for a good song, just so they could play a bad one two or three times and for all the times they took a perfectly good tune and wrecked it through a series of ill-considered edits – this song is for them.

Musically, Morrissey’s vocals are only one part of the reason the Smiths have aged with such grace.  The other is guitarist Johnny Marr.  Marr, who co-writes the songs, has a style that gives the Smiths their sound.  It is a little bit punk, and a little bit pop, but it also has a surprising amount of country music influence in it.  This is really noticeable on “Is It Really So Strange” which almost sounds like a Johnny Cash song blended with the Beatles.  I think it really helps ground the music and keeps it from being too sing-songy.   

My main beef with “Louder Than Bombs” is its length.  Even though the individual songs are all very short (most are under three minutes) there are 24 of them.  The front half of the record is a lot stronger than the back half as well, which makes it feel like it is petering out at the end.  I wouldn’t necessarily go all the way down to 14 tracks (my usual maximum) but 16-18 would be a lot more reasonable, and would have probably pulled it up to four stars.

That, and the fact that some of these superfluous tracks lack the injection of charm to inoculate their overly mopey natures, takes a great record and make it simply good.  Note to the musicians of the world – edit yourselves!

Best tracks:  Is It Really So Strange?, Sheila Take a Bow, Shoplifters of the World Unite, Half a Person, Panic, You Just Haven’t Earned it Yet Baby, Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, Ask, Oscillate Wildly, Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want.

CD Odyssey Disc 523: James Brown

Damn this being a sports fan can be stressful.  Bruins go down 6-5 in overtime and now we’re tied 2-2 with those pesky Blackhawks.

At least there is always music.

Disc 523 is…. In The Jungle Groove

Artist: James Brown

Year of Release: 1986 but with music from 1970-1972

What’s up with the Cover?  James looks pensive as he reclines in a litter and graffiti filled corner and enjoys a smoke.  He might be more relaxed if he wasn’t sitting in some stark corner, but James is a man of the people, and people dwell in corners of every sort, even stark and garbage filled ones. 

How I Came To Know It:  I’ve known James Brown since the late eighties but I only got this particular album in the last year.  My buddy Nick really likes it and when he bought a remastered edition recently he gave me his original.  So a shout out to Nick!

How It Stacks Up:  “In the Jungle Groove” is a compilation album so it doesn’t stack up as per long standing CD Odyssey tradition.  I actually have three James Brown compilations and I love all of them, but comparing them would come dangerously close to violating the ‘doesn’t stack up’ provision of ‘best of’ albums, so let’s not go there.

Rating:  no rating!  Compilations and ‘best ofs’ aren’t rated, just reviewed.

My first ever James Brown purchase was yet another ‘best of’ I bought in 1988 – then on tape.  I loved it, but little did I realize that the songs had all been severely edited for length (most were less than four minutes).  This is not how James Brown should be heard.

“In the Jungle Groove” is exactly how James Brown should be heard: long sweeping mood pieces where the mood is funk!  This album has only nine songs, but together they represent over sixty minutes of music (the album cover even advertises this fact in the lower right corner).

The songs have a lot of repetition but are never too long because they are about the groove.  Horn licks, guitar riffs and funky drum beats (even a song called ‘funky drummer’) get your hips moving right away, but it is the slow and steady build of the groove over six to nine minutes that makes you truly appreciate it.

James Brown is both talented and hilariously over the top.  Asking his band for permission to scream (like he wasn’t going to anyway), advising the aforementioned Funky Drummer that “you don’t have to do no soloin’ brother, just keep what you got.  Don’t turn it loose, ‘cause it’s a mother!”  James Brown can even make giving his band instructions on how to play entertaining.  Most of his outbursts seem made up on the spot, and it is easy to see how he is one of the main inspirations for rap.  My favourite snippet is from “Talkin’ Loud and Sayin’ Nothing” where he warns “you can’t tell me how to run my mess.”

This album is packed with songs that have become heavily sampled in years that followed (something I believe Brown didn’t like).  For someone who didn’t like being sampled, Brown has sure had a lasting impression on the rap movement and many of the little riffs and drum beats are both recognizeable in their own right, but also from the many songs they’ve been used in since.

This music comes from 1970-72, which I consider to be the golden age of James Brown.  My other two records of his are from 1964-69 and 1971-75 so it is great to have found a record fitting right into the missing couple of years.

I had many of these songs on other albums, but “In a Jungle Groove” reimagines them with a lot of different and interesting arrangements.  At first it was weird to hear the songs done in a different way, but it quickly grew on me as I realized how resilient these songs are, and how clever James Brown and his band are at keeping them fresh.

In addition to being a masterful (if demanding) band leader, a brilliant vocalist and an inspiration to rap James Brown is just enjoyable to listen to.  This is as good as dance music gets. Fads like disco and techno wish they could make your body move like this stuff.

So if you have a glass handy (as I do) raise it to Soul Brother #1, Mr. Dynamite, Mr. James Brown and thank him for some great funk and a lasting legacy.

Best tracks:  I like all these tracks, but I guess I’ll go with “Funky Drummer”, “Talkin’ Loud and Sayin’ Nothing”, “Get Up Get Into It and Get Involved”, “Soul Power” and the ever-amazing “Hot Pants” – even though this isn’t the best version of  “Hot Pants” I own, it is just too good a song to leave off the list.

CD Odyssey Disc 522: Leonard Cohen

I’m having a busy day, and juggling a lot of things.  Spent the day writing in front of a computer screen but then raced home to write this review before the hockey game.

Then the hockey game (a Bruins victory – huzzah!) Then over to a friend’s house and I’m just now back to post the review I finished earlier.  Once this is done, I’m going to bed.  Phew!

On to the review – it is hard to believe it is three years to the day since my last album by this artist.  Far too long to wait!

Disc 522 is…. Songs of Leonard Cohen (or just “Songs”)

Artist: Leonard Cohen

Year of Release: 1967

What’s up with the Cover?  The Big Head Shot.  Leonard looks a little bit like Michael Corleone in the Godfather here.  Also interesting is the back cover, which has a chained woman burning in flames.  Here it is:

It makes me think of his song, "Joan of Arc" although that song does not appear on this album.  Note the creepy skull in the flames under her upraised arm as well.

How I Came To Know It:  I knew Leonard Cohen’s poetry before his music, and with “Songs of Leonard Cohen” being his first album, it has a lot of his original poetry set to music.  It was therefore an easy sell for me.  I used to own this on tape in the eighties but have long since upgraded to CD.

How It Stacks Up:  I have eleven of Leonard Cohen’s studio albums.  There are few musicians, living or dead that can match his consistent excellence, so competition is fierce.  I rate it second or third, depending on how I feel about “Songs From a Room.”  “Songs of Leonard Cohen” has a bit better production and superior poetry, but I like the overall feel of “Songs From a Room” and the musicality of it, so it is essentially a draw.

And yes, the man likes to put the word “songs” in his album titles.

Rating:  5 stars

Having read most of these poems before ever hearing them set to music, “Songs of Leonard Cohen” was a revelation for me when I first heard it around 1988. 

This is Cohen’s debut album, and it is an exceptional collection of songs and poetry.  Here the talent of one of Canada’s greatest poets not only reimagined his work into songs, but enhanced them as a result of that transformation.  It inspired me to the point where I began planning my graduate thesis on how music influences poetry and vice versa.  They never let me into grad school, so that project didn’t get off the ground.  Their loss.

The album launches with one of folk music’s most iconic songs, “Suzanne.”  A beautiful love song of the underclass combined with a pining devotional that tries to explain why we feel listless and drifting as we seek one another in this crazy world:

“And Jesus was a sailor

When he walked upon the water

And he spent a long time watching

From his lonely wooden tower

And when he knew for certain

Only drowning men could see him

He said, ‘All men will be sailors then

Until the sea shall free them.’”

I wish I could come up with just two of these lines that drip off Cohen’s tongue with an assonant longing that approaches prayer.

The entire album is filled with this high quality poetry, which draws you in and puts your mind in a state of quiet alertness, almost meditative, as he explores love and loss in all its forms.

Some of these romances are hopeful, like “Suzanne” and “Sisters of Mercy” but the majority explore the broken places that exist between people.  Once great relationships are collapsed by time and distance in “That’s No Way To Say Goodbye” or simply by an atrophy that grows within them like “So Long, Marianne.” This particular theme reaches its zenith (nadir?) with the album’s closing track, the vicious and venomous “One of Us Cannot Be Wrong” which begins:

“I lit a thin green candle

To make you jealous of me

But the room just filled up with mosquitos

They heard that my body was free

Then I took the dust of a long sleepless night

And I put it in your little shoe

Then I confess that I tortured the dress

That you wore for the world to look through.”

You have to hand it to Cohen – even when he’s angry he still willingly paints himself as much the villain as the object of his disdain.  He’s like a self-deprecating Bob Dylan (and just as talented).

There is a plethora of great images strewn threw the songs I’ve already mentioned and all the other ones as well, some of my favourite snippets include:

“It’s hard to hold the hand of anyone

Who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.” (The Stranger Song)

“We met when we were almost young

Deep in the green lilac park

You held onto me like I was a crucifix

As we went kneeling through the dark.” (So Long, Marianne)

“If your life is a leaf

That the seasons tear off and condemn

They will bind you with love

That is graceful and green as a stem.” (Sisters of Mercy).

“Sisters of Mercy” is one of those perfect songs, yet Cohen has said it is also the only song he effortlessly wrote in the space of a few hours (I’ve read that it is inspired by two girls he met on the road in Saskatchewan and let sleep – and nothing else – in his hotel room for the night).  I can’t remember the source for that story, however; either he said it at a concert live or I read it and have since forgotten where.

Overall the production is sparse but perfect.  The guitar work is a mix of basic folk strumming and heavily classical melodies and playing.  It is early in his career, and Cohen’s voice is still high and plaintive (later on, after decades of red wine and late nights it drops an octave, and gets gravelly and slightly lascivious).  On these early records it is mostly just Cohen but occasionally backup singer are used, notably on the chorus of a few songs.

While ultimately not enough to ensure my place in graduate school, I’m sure this record has helped ensure the romantic evenings of many undergraduates went smoothly over the years.  I can’t remember specifically if I’ve ever tried it myself but the odds are good that I did.

For writing such perfectly blended confessional/devotional songs about love, that resonate not only in the late sixties heyday of such work, but equally well forty-five years later; for still being able to make me catch my breath with the beauty of his imagery and for doing it all in a tasteful 10 songs, and 40 minutes, this album easily makes the five star grade.

Best tracks:  most of them.  Of ten songs the only two that are a bit weak are “Winter Lady” and “Stories of the Street” and those aren’t enough to knock this album out of five star territory.

CD Odyssey Disc 521: Blue Rodeo

Well, that was depressing triple overtime, watching hockey for five hours just to lose Game 1 of the Stanley Cup finals.  Argh.  And now my reward is the worst…Blue Rodeo album…ever.  Well, at least it’s Blue Rodeo.

Disc 521 is…. Nowhere to Here

Artist: Blue Rodeo

Year of Release: 1995

What’s up with the Cover?  It is hard to tell.  I think there is some sort of farmhouse in the distance, but the whole thing is obscured by some sort of dust storm or strange camera filter.  Like the album itself, the cover photo could be simple and beautiful but instead it is all messed up and hard to follow.

How I Came To Know It:  Sheila is a big Blue Rodeo fan, and I’m completely converted.  She bought this one to fill out her collection.

How It Stacks Up:  We have all twelve of Blue Rodeo’s studio albums.  Overall, it is a great body of work, but something had to be last.  “Nowhere to Here” is that something.

Rating:  2 stars.

“Nowhere to Here” is the follow up to Blue Rodeo’s greatest album, “Five Days in July” and it was apparent early that it wasn’t going to live up to that masterpiece.

For starters, let me say that I am a full-on Blue Rodeo convert.  Their blend of rock, rockabilly and country music is a unique one, and the way co-band leaders Greg Keelor and Jim Cuddy bring together their different styles is some kind of beautiful alchemy.  These guys have twelve albums, many of which are great and none of which are truly bad.  With all that said, “Nowhere to Here” is as bad as they get.

The first couple of tracks (“Save Myself”, “Girl in Green”) are a very weak way to start a record.  Blue Rodeo is typically masterful at constructing new and interesting songs out of fairly simple melodies.  “The opening tracks of “Nowhere to Here” sound like they are trying really hard to put together a new sound, and the result sounds forced and artificial.  The melodic progressions are interesting, but ultimately discordant.  It reminded me a little of Radiohead and not in a good way.

Similarly the album layers on excess production, making it fuzzy and taking away from what song structure there is.  The second track, “Girl in Green” isn’t quite as bad, but like the opening song it is over six minutes long and just seems to drag.

In the middle of the album things improve a fair bit, and starting at track four, we get the best three songs all in a row.

“Side of the Road” sees Keelor backing away from his dreamy, dopey opening and approaching some of the magic he makes on earlier songs like “Lost Together.”

“Better Off As We Are” is the album’s hit and deservedly so.  Although I find the tempo a tiny bit rushed in the chorus, this is rightfully a Blue Rodeo classic, with an instantly recognizable guitar riff to open it, and some tinkling of the organ’s higher notes to add contrast.  The song is paradoxically celebratory of the human condition, even as it is tinged in sadness in recognizing our limitations.

The trio of good songs wraps up with “Sky,” a classic Jim Cuddy mournful dirge.  I’ve said it in previous reviews but it bears repeating; no one does heartache like Cuddy.  The lyrics aren’t great, and certainly not worth quoting like some of his other classics, but Cuddy can sing the phone book and it would just make you think of old girlfriends with similar names.

Sadly, the success is short lived, and we are brought back down to earth with an aimless stoner piece by Keelor called “Brown Eyed Dog.”  Lines like this:

“Sometimes my flesh entwines

With the bones of your breath.”

Are caught up in the sound of the words and how they combine, but don’t build a very strong image for me.  Later Keelor does a spoken word section which rambles aimlessly.  The song reminds you of what it is like to wake up on a sidewalk after a bender, and feels about as pleasant.

Nothing else on the album is as truly bad as “Brown Eyed Dog” although “Get Through to You” has one of the worst forced rhymes I can recall in recent review memory:

“I wish you could read my mind ‘cause then you’d see

That I’d never take you for granted

Even though sometimes it feels like we’re on different planets.”

Yeesh.

Against their other amazing work, “Nowhere to Here” clocks in as decidedly average.  In places it succeeds and shows all the usual excellence of a Blue Rodeo album, but too many of the songs are overwrought and overlong (particularly the final track, “Flaming Bed” which ambles aimlessly for over eight minutes).

I would say “Nowhere to Here” is for Blue Rodeo completionists only.  Fortunately, I am one, and even though it isn’t an album I put on often, I admire these guys too much to part with even their weakest offering.

Best tracks:  Side of the Road, Better Off As We Are, Sky

Figurine: Swordfighting Cheerleader

I've had a fair bit of time to paint miniatures lately, which would usually mean that I've gotten more albums to review (painting being one of the concurrently 'allowed' activities as per the rules).  However, because of my birthday I have an influx of new music I've been listening to instead, and I try to stick to random album selection as much as possible.

The long and the short of it is that I've got another miniature to post, but not an album.  I'm back at work tomorrow though, so with the walks to and from I'll be through another music review in no time.

Today's figurine isn't terribly exciting.  She's a scantily clad swordfighter - I can only assume she comes from a very hot climate:

Her outfit and ridiculously big hair made me think of NFL cheerleaders, so naturally I put her in Miami Dolphins orange and aqua.

Here she is in more natural lighting, such as you might encounter at Dolphins stadium, although in my experience the cheerleaders there are less likely to be wielding two scimitars.

Well, that's it for today.  Back to music for my next entry.

CD Odyssey Disc 520: Beck

It is fitting that I should review a somber album focused on loss next, since that’s my mood today.  Last night my step-father Lawrence died.  He died of pneumonia, but as some readers may know he was in the midst of a lengthy decline from dementia.

The terrible degradation of his mind has now mercifully ended, but it doesn’t lessen how much I’m going to miss him.  He was a wonderful, gentle and soft-spoken man who took me into his home with open arms and loved me like a father should love a son.

It was his birthday last week (we are fellow Geminis) and I called him to wish him well.  I’m not sure if he knew who I was anymore, but it was great to hear his voice one last time and say goodbye, even if I didn't know it at the time.

Disc 520 is…. Sea Change

Artist: Beck

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover?  If you’re going to go with the ‘Giant Head Cover’ then keep it simple, like Gordon Lightfoot does.  I don’t like the addition of whimsical splashes of colour, nor do I think asking Beck to comb his hair for the photo shoot would have been unreasonable.

How I Came To Know It:  No story here.  I was already a Beck fan and just drilling through his album collection.  I can’t remember if I heard good things about this record or if I did, from whom, but they would have been telling the truth.

How It Stacks Up:  We have eight Beck albums, and the top of the order is crowded, but I’ve got to put “Sea Change” the best of them all at #1.

Also, by way of errata, I note that I neglected to stack up “Midnite Vultures” back at Disc 348.  Oops.  I’d put "Midnite Vultures" at #4, just edging out “Modern Guilt”.

Rating:  4 stars but almost 5.

Whatever it is about breakups, they can result in some truly amazing art, and “Sea Change” fits that description chronicling Beck’s emotional journey through heartbreak.

The record couldn’t be more different than the party-time funk flavouring of “Midnite Vultures” and shares much more in common with 1998’s “Mutations.” (Reviewed way back at Disc 187.)  “Mutations” was a bit detached for my tastes, with a lot of strange sampled sounds and experimental takes on traditional genres that left it unfocused.

All of these problems are solved with “Sea Change” which is driven by real instrumentation, and strength of song writing.  These songs are so beautifully simple they could pass as folk music, if it weren’t for Beck’s decision to put in some atmospheric reverb and background sound.  Although I love simple arrangements, the added elements are in just the right proportion, not overpowering the songs themselves, but instead adding to them. This is one of Beck’s most guitar-centric albums, with a lot of acoustic work but steel guitar, string sections, chimes and even a glockenspiel make an appearance to add depth and resonance to the melodies.

Beck’s voice is also as good as I’ve heard it, ranging from pop crooner on “The Golden Age” to Nick Cave confessional on “Paper Tiger.”  Because of Beck’s brilliance at co-opting musical styles and his innovative production decisions I think people often overlook how good a singer he is.  On “Sea Change” he allows himself to emotionally invest in his delivery and it makes it all the better.

It is an album that should be listened to cohesively, in the order presented.  The latter half of the album is slightly weaker on its own (and held it just out of five star territory) but when taken together it forms a perfect bit of mood music.

Lyrically, this is also the strongest of Beck’s albums, as he charts the often numbing quality of grief in all its various forms.  “Golden Age” summarizes the lack of future direction:

“And the sun don’t shine even when its day

You gotta drive all night just to feel like you’re okay

These days I barely get by

I don’t even try.”

“Guess I’m Doing Fine” covers that paradox of feeling both sad and awkwardly okay at the same time:

“It’s only lies that I’m living

It’s only tears that I’m crying

It’s only you that I’m losing

Guess I’m doing fine.”

And “Paper Tiger” takes on the finality of loss:

“There’s one road to the morning

There’s one road to the truth

There’s one road back to civilization

But there’s no road back to you.”

The imagery of driving and barren highways recurs throughout the album and helps give it a cohesive quality of moving forward, without knowing where you’re going.  If you’ve had your heart broken, this image will resonate.  However, “Sea Change” is definitely not is a driving album, because no matter how quiet your car is you will miss some of the more subtle bass notes.  It is best for head phones or a quiet sit in the living room.  I listened to it while painting, which was just the right amount of meditative distraction.  Do not put this album on at a party unless you want your guests to finish their drinks and go home.

However, if you want to explore a journey into thoughtful grieving (and we all want that sometimes) then this is as good a journey as you’ll find.

Best tracks:  The Golden Age, Paper Tiger, Guess I’m Doing Fine, Lost Cause, Little One