CD Odyssey Disc 1223: No Doubt

I’ve been trying to take on new experiences in 2019. Today I received my first ever professional straight-razor shave from a barber. Many thanks to Mo at Atmosphaire for the experience, and to Sheila for the gift card that encouraged me to go!

Disc 1223 is… Rock Steady

Artist: No Doubt

Year of Release: 2001

What’s up with the Cover? A bunch of annoying writing. This looks like what happens to a wall downtown when you don’t paint a nice mural on it: a bunch of idiots tag it. Here No Doubt plays the part of “bunch of idiots” and tags the cover of their album.

How I Came To Know It: This album came out before Youtube so I discovered it through a couple of videos back when Much Music actually played them. I remember one where the band is riding around on Seadoos and another one where Gwen Stefani is rolling around on a bed in her underwear. The second one left an impression.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only No Doubt album we own, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings:  2 stars

Having just reviewed Mother Mother I was in a pop-friendly mood, but “Rock Steady” was not as good as I remember it all those years ago when I bought it.

This is still a solid record, with some solid hooks and a lot of head bobbing beats but I felt like was being manipulated by all the bells and whistles, tricking me with clever production into liking songs that weren’t as good as they should have been.

I tend to delay discussion about an album’s production until later in a review, but on “Rock Steady” it plays too central a role for that. The songs have their basis in traditional rock and roll arrangements – guitar, bass, drum and vocals – but they are also replete with beeps, chirps and distortion effects. All this window dressing is done very well and given the style of music I don’t think the album would sound right without it but it gives the impression of a kid pulling on your sleeve to get your attention; a bit too insistent.

There also isn’t a lot of depth to the message. A lot of these songs make you want to party, but you’re not sure why. When I listen to music I’m like a difficult actor in rehearsal; I need to know my motivation in the scene. This is true even when I’m just enjoying a dance tune.

I forgive a lot of this because the songs are so much fun, even if they are often empty calories. “Rock Steady” is a party record and that’s OK, and whatever tricks are being employed you can’t deny the songs are catchy.

When they do strip it down and you can see the bones of the songs, they stand up pretty well. The best example of this is “Underneath It All” which mixes a reggae back-beat with a sugar-pop vocal delivery from Gwen that makes you think she’s about to whisper “I wanna be your girlfriend.” Of course, she never does. This is probably just as well, as my heart now belongs to St. Vincent. Sorry, Gwen. You’ll always be my Hollaback girl, but I needed to move on. But I digress…

Stefani’s vocals aren’t powerhouse but she’s always been amazing at sitting down in the pocket and singing with gusto. She is a born performer and it is easy to see why she has become a huge star: she is steeped in presence.

Sometimes the songs don’t really go anywhere, such as the meandering “Start the Fire” which is mostly a lot of repeating of “baby, get the lighter/we’re gonna start the fire.” I didn’t mind though, because it has a nice hip-swirl beat and makes you feel like you’ve spent the day at a beach party.

After 11 songs of relaxing reggae-pop fusion you are in a pretty good headspace, but unfortunately the album doesn’t end there. The last two songs “Waiting Room” and “Rock Steady” are annoying and self-indulgent techno-beats that were annoying in the day and have not aged well. While the whole album has a lot of production, these two songs take it to a whole new level, to the point where there is no melodic underpinning to build from or if there is, it is buried too deep to matter.

With the exception of these two tracks, though, I have a soft spot for this record, which is a fun and carefree experience. If you had to hear the music coming from a ghetto blaster one campfire over at the beach, you could do worse than “Rock Steady.” For this reason it stays in the collection although I’m more likely to pull a single off for a dance mix than I am to give the album a full listen.

Best tracks: Hella Good, Underneath It All

CD Odyssey Disc 1222: Mother Mother

Last weekend I took a chance on the new Daniel Romano album despite some reviews that gave me pause and my last foray into his catalogue (2017’s “Modern Pressure”) being less than successful.

Romano’s new album, “Finally Free” didn’t even get so far as to earn a review. It is a bloated, self-indulgent mess from beginning to end. Since my requisite three listens would have been two more than I can stomach (three if I could go back in time) I will be free of “Finally Free” the next chance I get to sell it back to the record store. No I won't be reviewing it - you're welcome.

The funny thing is the only reason I took a chance on the album was because we were going to see Romano in concert next month. This album disappointed us so much we've decided not to go.

Like “Finally Free” I bought this next album in anticipation of going to their show and wanting to be familiar with their new material. The review of that album – and the show we saw last night – are both below. It is a much happier tale.

Disc 1222 is… Dance and Cry

Artist: Mother Mother

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? While this album is called “Dance and Cry” both people on the cover have opted for dancing. Good choice! Then again, we can’t see their faces so it is possible they are also crying, but I hope not – crying will just restrict their lungs and negatively impact their dancing.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a Mother Mother fan for a while now so this was just me buying their new album when it came out. Plus, I was excited at the upcoming live show.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Mother Mother albums. Of the five, I put “Dance and Cry” in at third spot, bumping both “No Culture” and “Eureka” down a spot.

Ratings:  3 stars

Some bands just now how to write a pop hook, and Mother Mother is one of them. On “Dance and Cry” they take a similar anthem pop-rock approach as on “No Culture,” but has rounded out the edges and provided a slightly better record in the process.

“No Culture” was lead singer and writer Ryan Guldemond’s “getting sober” album and “Dance and Cry” features many of the same themes, and while the celebration of getting his life back is just as palpable there is a less manic quality to the work as a whole that gives it a more organic feel.

The party atmosphere still takes center stage and even on songs that explore depression like “So Down” there is a core of celebration in the melody that convinces you that everything is going to be OK. On the more upbeat songs like “Get Up” you get wolf howls and rapid-fire lyrics, plus a hook that would drive you to dance in a bank lineup. Even “Get Up” has its elements of doubt and this is the charm of Mother Mother; they realize that when you feel good, there will still be some nagging doubt, and when you’re down there will always be a core of optimism.

My favourite tracks are “It’s Alright” and “Bottom Is a Rock,” both of which have this same dichotomy built into them. “It’s Alright” is a reminder to anyone who has suffered from bad judgment or maybe just a little non-specific anxiety. Guldemond sings about a bad day filled with perceived mistakes, before the angelic voices of Molly Guldemond and Jasmin Parker respond with a verse reminding him:

“It’s alright, it’s OK

You’re not a monster

Just a human

And you’ve made a few mistakes.”

Molly Jasmin are critical to the band’s sound, giving songs texture and light with bright vocals that ride the song like a wave, sometimes matching and reinforcing Ryan’s delivery, and sometimes playing foil against it.

On “Bottom is a Rock” Guldemond observes that sometimes you are going to fall, and sometimes that fall is going to be something we need to rise up again. It is a fist-pumper of a sing-along party song, with a back-eddy message reminding us that even after you hit rock bottom there might be a few bounces still in you.

The music has solid guitar licks, but this is not guitar rock by any stretch – this is mainstream pop, given gravitas with thoughtful lyrics and arrangements. All three singers are talented but a big part of what makes the band so enduring is their ability to write solid hooks and build both lyrics and arrangements around those hooks that keep your ear interested even on repeat listens.

In their early years Mother Mother was a lot more raw in their song construction. “Dance and Cry” feels very polished by comparison, but this is not a detriment. Because while there is a lot of complexity and production going on the music never loses its jump and joyful energy.

Best tracks: Get Up, So Down, It’s Alright, Only Love, Bottom is a Rock

The Concert – Monday, January 28, Save-On Foods Memorial Arena, Victoria BC

Sheila wasn’t feeling one hundred percent and I wasn’t sure we were going to make it out last night, but I’m glad we did because once again Mother Mother did not disappoint.

We last saw them almost two years ago at the Save-On-Foods Memorial Arena and I was looking forward to the better experience – both visually and acoustically – offered by Victoria’s historic Royal Theatre.

Said the Whale

The opening act was Said the Whale, a fellow Vancouver band with a very similar sound that complemented Mother Mother well. They had two vocalists with different styles (one a bit more indie folk, the other on the pop side) who took turns at the mic.

In addition to warming up the crowd, Said the Whale ticked all the boxes for an opening act. They praised the headliner, they said their own name clearly at a time when there wasn’t too many shrieks drowning them out, and they shilled for their new record (even waving a copy around on stage, which I liked).

Said the Whale had some pretty solid tracks, and I recognized a few from trying to familiarize myself with the tunes in the lead up to the concert, but ultimately I decided against adding any of their albums to my collection, at least for now.

There was also a lot of genuine love between the band and Mother Mother, with many hugs and expressions of mutual appreciation.

Mother Mother

Mother Mother took the stage with a commanding presence following an intermission that felt overlong but was worth the wait. They had a pretty great light show, which was some combination of spooky forest and disco dance party. It set a good mood even when it was flashing in my eyes, which was often.

Mother Mother in concert has an incredible energy. Ryan Guldemond is a natural front man, and he is flanked on either side by the aforementioned Molly and Jasmin, both of whom are fully comfortable in the lights.

This is particularly true of Jasmin Parkin, who whirls around like a dervish and has dozens of dance moves, each groovier than the next. Molly isn’t as accomplished as a dancer, but she did steal the show when she sang a cover of Radiohead’s “Creep.” Bonus points for singing a song that Radiohead are too stuffed up to play themselves. It is a great song, Thom – play it!

In concert, Mother Mother is a lot more rock focused, with the guitar heavier in the mix and a lot of tasteful soloing. For all that, they make sure that even when they dress up their old songs in heavier production, they keep it true to the original melody and heart of the tune. Everything is recognizable, if a bit more bombastic.

The setlist was a fine selection of about half the new album getting played, plus a bunch of old standards including a few of my favourites, including “Ghosting” and “Hay Loft.”

At one point someone in the audience shouted for “Hay Loft” a second time to which Guldemond replied with “we already played it” and then noted that in every audience “there’s always a Hay Loft guy”. Sad, but true.

The audience was generally well behaved and came in on just the right side of boisterous – exuberant and energetic without becoming aggressive. They were even dressed pretty well, and I spotted more than a few parents taking their teens to the show.

My only disappointment was that during slow and quiet songs (Jasmin Parkin’s stripped down delivery of “Biting on a Rose” comes to mind) there were too many shouts and cheers. Shouts and cheers are for up tempo rock songs – when someone is getting quiet and poignant, have the courage to go there with them.

Overall, another great Mother Mother show at a venue that had great sound, a good crowd and a band with plenty of presence and talent.

CD Odyssey Disc 1221: The Weepies

Sometimes an album can sit in my collection for years before the dice gods say I should roll them, and sometimes they get called upon within the first week or two. This next album is one of the latter.

Disc 1221 is… Say I Am You

Artist: The Weepies

Year of Release: 2006

What’s up with the Cover? Two birds meet and fall in love. It is all very dear.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Casey played one of their songs and I liked what I heard. That song is on this album!

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Weepies albums, but they are both so new to me it is hard to stack them up. Because I enjoyed it a lot, I’ll say this one is the better of the two but I may change my mind. It is my blog, after all.

Ratings:  4 stars

Is ‘twee’ ever a good thing? Before I heard “Say I Am You” I would have been inclined to say no, but the Weepies do such a good job of it they made me rethink that position.

The Weepies are husband and wife team Steve Tannen and Deb Talan and together they make a folk-pop record that is as light, airy and sweet as a perfectly baked pastry. This is a record made for sunshine and ocean breezes. It is good for a walk in the rain as well, although you should ideally be wearing bright pink or yellow gumboots.

“Say I Am You” goes for a very stripped down approach (there is only two people in the band, after all) with a lot of songs just Deb and Steve singing along to a single strummed guitar, or maybe a bit of string or piano in the background. Less is more here, because too much business would interfere with the simple soulful picture the songs create for you.

Lyrically there is no mighty literary prowess. The songs are light on metaphor, and the metaphors that are there are well-worn or generic. In this way, “Say I Am You” reminded me of a modern pop album, where the writing is kept very high level to encourage universal appeal. Over a third of the songs here have been used in the soundtracks of movies or TV shows, so the universal appeal thing is definitely working for them.

However, there is more going on than just this. While there isn’t a lot of new ground being covered, the Weepies pull it together in a touching and resonant way. The melodies of the songs have a sing-a-long charm and feel timeless and compelling. Talan’s voice in particular has a good mix of hurt and sugar. It isn’t all-powerful like Patty Griffin and it doesn’t bowl you over emotionally like Emmylou Harris. It draws you in and gives you comfort, like a call from a friend on a Sunday afternoon when you’re feeling down. Maybe there’s no better example than this line from “Painting by Chagall”:

“Sometimes rain that’s needed falls

We float like two lovers in a painting by Chagall.”

Is that all a bit precious? Yes, it is, but somehow it works when you hear it – and I don’t even like Chagall that much.

I admire “Say I Am You” in part because they don’t mess around. The songs have a message – both lyrically and melodically – and they get right into it without a lot of intros and outros. This is rare, with a lot of indie music, which can tend toward half-formed thoughts and a lot of added clangor and distraction in place of completing them. Here the songs are quick (nothing longer than 4:13 with “Suicide Blonde” clocking in at a mayfly-like 1:36) but they live a lifetime in their brief time between your ears.

Your enjoyment of this record will be directly proportional to how willing you are to overlook the sugarcoating. Even the sad songs seem weirdly comforting. “Nobody Knows Me At All” is a song of isolation, but it also creates a community of the misunderstood. Kind of like Emily Dickinson did when she wrote:

I’m Nobody! Who are you?

Are you – Nobody – too?

Then there’s a pair of us!

The Weepies get this, and they get you too. If they don’t get you, then at least they make you realize you’re not alone in your aloneness.

There is a lot of music out there about uncertainty and doubt, but very little of it is wrapped in an embrace of hope. And that sugarcoating might appear dear, but once in a while we need a community of the pale and wan, rather than isolation. I enjoyed letting the Weepies might make me feel uncertain, while they simultaneously gave me a great big hug to let me know everything was going to be alright.

Best tracks: Gotta Have You, World Spins Madly On, Citywide Rodeo, Painting by Chagall, Nobody Knows Me At All, Not Your Year, Slow Pony Home

CD Odyssey Disc 1220: Wagakki Band

My last review was an album entirely filled with songs about the St. Lawrence Seaway. This next album is about as far as you could get from that, but equally enjoyable.

Disc 1220 is… Yasou Emaki

Artist: Wagakki Band

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? The Wagakki Band strike heroic poses. This cover demonstrates that poses always look more heroic when you brandish a sword.

Despite all the swords, there is no reason for alarm – they’re musicians not swordfighters. And don’t worry about the fact that there are eight of them; they aren’t a ska band either.

How I Came To Know It: I was reading an article online and someone was pointing out how weird this band was. I’d never heard them so I watched the embedded video to decide for myself. The video was over the top, filled with fantasy fight scenes which were pretty cool but as for the music I didn’t find it weird at all - I just liked it.

I then set out to find a Wagakki Band album but that is not easy on this side of the Pacific Ocean. In 2017 Sheila and I went to San Francisco and I brought my ‘hard to find’ music list to the legendary Amoeba Records. Sheila quickly became bored watching me dig through the stacks so she amused herself by helping me look for rare records. I gave her this one as an assignment not expecting much but low and behold – she found it.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have one Wagakki Band album. I am on the lookout for their 2014 effort “Vocalo Zanmai” but it might be a while. Even Amoeba didn’t have that one. For now, there is no stacking to be had.

Ratings:  3 stars but almost 4

Imagine Jethro Tull, Iron Maiden and Madonna had a baby and you might have an approximation of Japanese folk-metal group Wagakki Band. The group blends pop, traditional Japanese folk and heavy metal into a high-energy soup of syncopation and soaring melodies.

The band’s front woman is Suzuhana Yuko. Suzuhana’s vocals are pure pop, pure and light with a little sugar around the edges, like she’s smiling at you while she’s singing. Her vocals carry most of those uplifting melodies I noted earlier, and she delivers them in long, furious bursts that must take incredible breath control. She doesn’t blow you away with power, but there is a technical mastery there, and whatever she’s singing (all the songs are in Japanese) she sings it with conviction.

Wagakki Band is famous for blending Western rock and roll with traditional Japanese forms, and their commitment starts with their instruments. Alongside the standard guitar-drums-bass approach they add Japanese folk instruments including the koto (a thirteen string sideways harp), the tsugaru shamisen (a kind of thin-necked banjo/guitar), and the shakuhachi (an end-blown bamboo flute). The blend of east and west works fabulously here, creating an undercurrent of heavy metal, with the bright and more whimsical traditional instruments.

I am particularly fond of Kaminaga Daisuke’s work on the shakuhachi. When Suzahana’s vocals aren’t casting their spell, you can be sure Kaminaga’s flute will be. His shakuhachi alternates from a blur of fantasy-evoking notes to a ghostly whistle as the song requires. There is plenty of great guitar licks on “Yasou Emaki” but I like it best when the shakuhachi is rocking out.

The entire album has a driving energy that makes it rush forward. Despite clocking in at a rather bloated 61 minutes the experience was over before I knew it.

Lyrically, I had no idea what was going on. The tracks are all listed in Japanese and while the CD booklet prints all the lyrics, those are in Japanese as well. There are some English words in the titles (Track 3 is called “Perfect Blue” and Track 12 has the words “Attack on Titan” embedded in the middle of a bunch of Japanese characters, but that was far too little information to form a guess about what the songs were about.

It was a bummer, because I suspect these guys sing about cool stuff, but I have no idea. It reminded me a little of when I listen to Celtic folk music in Gaelic, catching the energy but not knowing what is happening, except in this case everything is sped up and electrified.

Wagakki Band is not for everyone. You need to like both folk and metal, and you have to have an open mind to hearing some arrangements and melodic structures that aren’t exactly what your ear is accustomed to. However, if you can open your mind to the experience, these guys will quickly draw you in with their skillful playing and enthusiastic delivery.

Best tracks: I know what I like, I but I don’t know what they’re called so I’ll just list them by track: Track 1, Track 2, Track 3, Track 6, Track 11, Track 12

CD Odyssey Disc 1219: David Francey and Mike Ford

I spent today buying household items that I had neglected for many years before finally having to admit they needed replacing. Despite all that, it has been a pretty nice Saturday. Now that the chores are over I plan to reward myself in what remains in the afternoon by exploring some music, starting with this review.

Disc 1219 is… Seaway

Artist: David Francey and Mike Ford

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? Some kind of freighter sits tranquilly in some water body. Not a lot of landmarks to provide clues as to where we are, but I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest it is the Saint Lawrence Seaway.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of a later album of David Francey’s in Penguin Egg magazine. This started me on a joyful journey through his back catalogue. “Seaway” was one of the ports of call.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 10 David Francey albums, but only this one shares a billing with fellow Canadian folk singers Mike Ford. Ford has equal billing and equal contributions making “Seaway” a collaborative project. Consequently, I won’t stack it up against Francey’s other 9 albums.

Ratings:  3 stars

“Seaway” is a folk album devoted entirely to working on freighters in the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway. This is a lot of music about one very specific experience, but for the most part David Francey and Mike Ford manage to pull it off.

The album was the result of Ford and Francey spending two weeks aboard the MV Algoville and writing about their experiences. At its best the experience is wonderfully immersive, and at its worse it feels like some kind of CBC after-school special intent on educating you about Canadian history. I love my country but sometimes we can become a bit too self-absorbed in ensuring all of our art reflects on some aspect of our history, rather than just focusing on making the best art possible.

On “Seaway” felt a bit preachy, but mostly Francey and Ford demonstrate a deep, abiding and honest love for these stories. They provide a positive and powerful voice for the those who work thankless jobs up and down the St. Lawrence. Sometimes this work is overly romanticized, but mostly you just get a sense of respect for folks who put in long days in hard conditions.

This album is a love letter to the working man. The Captain gets some time, but the perspectives are mostly the everyday worker: the engineer, the cargo loader, the labourer and the school boy who dreams of one day being one of them.  Many of the stories are about actual people Ford and Francey met, and reading about them in the liner notes made me enjoy the songs that much more.

I didn’t like that the album was 16 songs long, which is too long for any album. Adding to my frustration was that 4 of the 8 David Francey songs appear on his earlier albums, meaning I paid for them twice. They fit thematically, and they are new versions, but they aren’t sufficiently different to make it worth it.

On the plus side having Mike Ford’s vocals and songs alternating through the record works well. Francey has a lovely Scottish brogue in his singing, and Ford’s lighter more airy vocals provided a good contrast, and keep you engaged.

In addition to the more traditional sea chanty songs, Ford throws in some fairly ambitious decisions. “There’s No Rush” has steel drums and a Caribbean feel to it, and “21^st Century Great Lake Navigators” answers the oft-asked question “what would happen if you took a Canadian folk song, turned it into a rap, and then sang it through a telephone receiver?” I’m sure you’ve all asked yourself this question as well. The result is…surprisingly OK. Most hilarious line…

“It’s a seaway, it’s a freeway

Moving the goods like a mega-mega e-Bay.”

Yeah – it is pretty nerdy, but also kind of fun. It is this kind of song that shows Ford’s pop-humour roots (he was once in the nineties band Moxy Fruvous).

Near the end of the record, Ford channels Gordon Lightfoot’s  “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” with “The Bottom of the Great Lakes” a song that honours all the wrecks and souls lost sailing the treacherous great lakes.

The album ends with “All Lights Burning Bright,” a line Francey lifts from the ship’s log entry near the end of their time aboard the MV Algoville. My joy for the song was lessened with the knowledge that it was a repeat from his 2007 album “Right of Passage” but it is still a good song by any measure, with a rolling rhythm reminiscent of the sea and a story that shows the quiet pride in piloting a large ship through shallow waters.

“Seaway” is a good record, marred at times by its obsession with educating its listeners rather than letting the art speak for itself. However, the love for its subject matter shines through and for the most part allows you to overlook its faults.

Best tracks: Banks of the Seaway, the Chief Engineer, There’s No Rush, Ashtabula, The Bottom of the Great Lakes, All Lights Burning Bright.

CD Odyssey Disc 1218: Bleached

This Odyssey won’t sail itself home so let’s get to the next album, shall we?

Disc 1218 is… Welcome the Worms

Artist: Bleached

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? The band appears to be trapped on some kind of desolate planet, possibly inhabited by Gorns. They do not look concerned in the slightest, despite two of them not even having access to long pants.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review and was intrigued so I checked out the album and…here we are.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Bleached albums this one and 2013’s “Ride Your Heart” (reviewed back at Disc 971) Of the two, “Welcome the Worms” is the best.

Ratings:  4 stars

“Welcome the Worms” is proof that you can have a dark album that still finds a way to inspire you to get over it. This record doesn’t suggest that your problems will all magically disappear, but it does shows that sometimes the best thing you can do is revel in surviving it all.

Bleached is a pop-punk band that crosses the alternative crunch of Sleater Kinney with the bad girl surfer pop of the Go-Gos. The band’s sound has a triumphant soar, aided by the high and raspy vocals of frontwoman Jennifer Clavin. Clavin’s voice sounds like a sixties pop singer but with a switchblade edge to it.

At the other end – but getting equal love in mix – is bassist and sister Jessica Clavin. While the production has a metallic rawness to it the bass is thick and rich, giving the tracks a foundational groove. I’m not much of a bass guitar expert, but I love the way Jessica plays, precise with just the right amount of punk abandon. Her opening riff on “Sleepwalking” has a forward-leaning stumble you could imagine on a sleepwalker, but despite the frantic pace she never trips up.

The songs are well constructed little ditties that like most punk music get in, get on with it and get out again, with the whole record clocking in at a restrained 36 minutes. I listened to it four times in a row and each time it ended I found myself wanting more.

The songs are anthems to hard living and bad experiences, but they are structured in a way that makes all that bad news seem triumphant. Where my last Courtney Barnett review left me feeling drained from all the uncertainty, Bleached centers all their doubt on rebellion, riding their way out of the doldrums on a rollercoaster of who-gives-a-fuck.

This isn’t to say these songs sugar-coat the bad times. There are plenty of bad coping choices, including booze, drugs, junk food and bad choices. As they sing on “Sour Candy”:

“Catch a ride with an unknown guy

Smokin’ dabs, getting high

Cuz the past ain’t kind

And the future scares me.”

“Sour Candy” has a sound very reminiscent of the Ramones through the verses, and then the chorus has a surprisingly catchy melody that you might expect in a pop hit, if the pop hit was less about kissing a boy and more about stumbling around high.

 The album’s single “Wednesday Night Melody” pulls all the band’s elements together. Crunchy guitar is matched up with pop-style “baa-ba-baas” and “aaah-aah” singing, and a clever hook over which Jennifer suggests that on a hard day you find your pleasure in the little things:

“Come on boy dry your eyes

It’s good to feel just a little alive

Drop a needle on the groove today

And waste away.”

“Welcome the Worms” isn’t pure punk, but this will only bother purists. Yes it has plenty of pop-friendly hooks but it also has more than enough edge to draw blood if edge is what you want. It also has energy to spare, and a restless intensity that grabs your attention and holds it throughout.

Best tracks: Keep On Keepin’ On, Sleepwalking, Wednesday Night Melody, Sour Candy, Hollywood We Did It All Wrong

CD Odyssey Disc 1217: Courtney Barnett

Even though I don’t yet have all the 2018 albums I’m on the hunt for yet, if I wait any longer this list might not have that shiny New Year feel to it. So, without further ado, here are my Top 10 albums of 2018.

UPDATE - on April 19, 2019 I reviewed Lucius' album "Nudes" and realized I'd made a mistake excluding it. I include it below. Apologies to Anna St. Louis, who has now been bumped. I still love you, Anna. 

10. Camp Cope – How to Socialise & Make Friends

9. Brandi Carlile – By the Way, I Forgive You

8. Cupkakke – Ephorize

7. Caroline Rose – Loner

6. Dessa – Chime

5. Zeal & Ardor – Stranger Fruit

4. Neko Case – Hell-On

3. Lucius - Nudes
2. Janelle Monae – Dirty Computer

1. St. Vincent – MassEducation

I reserve the right to continue to change this list as I am inspired by new discoveries or fresh listens, but these albums will not steer you wrong.

Here’s a 2018 release that was good, but didn’t make the cut.

Disc 1217 is… Tell Me How You Really Feel

Artist: Courtney Barnett

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? What is the extreme version of the Giant Head cover? The Giant Face cover. Here we are confronted with Courtney Barnett’s Giant Face, as seen through a red filter.

How I Came To Know It: I loved Barnett’s previous release, “Sometimes I Sit and Think and Sometimes I Just Sit” (reviewed back at Disc 905) and bought this album as soon as it came out, hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up:  “Tell Me How You Really Feel” is OK, but not as good as Barnett’s earlier work. I have three albums by her and this one comes in…third.

Ratings:  3 stars

Courtney Barnett was never a paragon of optimism, but on “Tell Me How You Really Feel” she takes her blend of rock guitar and tortured self-examination to a new level. The songs are solid throughout but after a while it starts to wear you out emotionally.

The usual payback for such a dark journey is some self-discovery or maybe some kernels of wisdom but on “Tell Me How You Really Feel” it isn’t about solutions, it is just about sharing the problem. On her previous record, Barnett explores the same territory but that record comes with a wry smile and some self-deprecating humour. Here the self-deprecation is here, but minus the charm.

The guitar work is exceptional, and while Barnett doesn’t play anything too complicated, she plays with a depth of feeling that lends additional resonance to every song. The opening riff of “Charity” is thick and crunchy, sounding like it fell out of a seventies vinyl collection. Barnett rocks out like this often and when she does she gives the record its best moments.

I also dig the early eighties groove Barnett channels on “Help Your Self”. The song has a schmaltzy sway that had me imagining a bunch of dudes in Miami Vice white suits and loafers swinging their arms and snapping their fingers in the background. The song doesn’t even have cheesy finger snaps, but you feel like it could. When Barnett introduces some discordant but complementary guitar work into the mix she creates a great tension between confidence and false bravado.

When Barnett slips into pure ambient dirge, however, the record loses its energy. At those moments it is wearing, not so much capturing anxiety so much as that raw and bleary feeling when you’ve felt stress for so long you’re just numb. It is music for whatever comes after a tension headache.

There is a lot that can be learned when you’re down in the sadness well, but it is also good to pull some inspiration from the experience. Too often, this record chooses to observe and report on its wallow. It is maddening because there is some great stuff going on and I wanted it to be that much greater. On “Charity” when Barnett sings:

“Meditation just makes you more strung out
I wish you had a guru who told you to let it go
To let it go”

I found myself wishing the same for the record. Stripping some of the weight off of these songs would give it the exquisite balance she manages on “Sometimes I Sit…” “Tell Me How You Really Feel” is still a good record and there are many reasons why it has become a critical darling, but it didn’t speak to me with quite the same level of gravitas that it has for many others.

Best tracks: City Looks Frosty, Charity, Nameless Faceless, Help Your Self

CD Odyssey Disc 1216: Leonard Cohen

After a fairly good run of not succumbing to new music I recently broke down and bought three new albums. These were: Lori McKenna “The Tree”; Parcels "Self-Titled"; and The Weepies "Say I Am You". In addition my friend Chris gave me his copy of Jethro Tull’s 1987 album “Crest of a Knave” which was damned nice of him. All around, a good week of music.

Disc 1216 is… Cohen Live: Leonard Cohen in Concert

Artist: Leonard Cohen

Year of Release: 1994 with performances from tours in 1988 and 1993

What’s up with the Cover? It looks like someone tried to get creative with early nineties graphic design software, before realizing the limitations of their medium. The cover also features the logos from Cohen’s “I’m Your Man” tour and “The Future” tour down the side, signifying the two eras the live performances are drawn from.

How I Came To Know It: In the case of the album, I was there! Or at least I was at one of the venues (the Orpheum in Vancouver in 1993). My friend Jeff bought me a ticket. I have since lost touch with Jeff, which is one of my life’s regrets. He was a kind and generous friend.

As for Leonard Cohen, you can read just how important his music and poetry have been in my life back on my review for “You Want It Darker” (Disc 937), which I wrote in November of 2016, shortly after his death. I miss you every day, Leonard.

How It Stacks Up:  Live albums don’t stack up, except against other live albums by the same artist, so the answer to your question is mu. Unask it!

Ratings:  4 stars

Leonard Cohen’s live performances cast a spell over his audience every time he stepped on the stage. I have a DVD of him at the Isle of Wight in 1970 quelling an enraged and drug and alcohol fueled crowd with nothing more than a lighter. Even late in life, he awed concert goers with his reverent and immersive style. I saw him in 2009 and 2010 where, old to the brink of frailty, the power of his own poetry would drop him to his knees on the stage.

In 1993 his physical intensity was limited to a deep knee bend, but that tour will always sit foremost in my heart. At age 58 Cohen had over 25 years’ worth of material to draw on with all the energy he needed to deliver a quality vocal performance.

I didn’t appreciate live music when I was young like I do now. Back then I preferred the perfection of the studio to the unknown and unpredictable sound quality of the live venue. Also, I was equal parts broke and depressed, and generally found it hard to motivate to do more than go to a nightclub and look for a temporary conquest.

But then my friend Jeff showed up, as he always did when I needed him most, two tickets to Leonard Cohen, live at Vancouver’s Orpheum theatre in his hand. It was exactly what I needed to give my spirit a lift.

Since this is a review of a live album and not a concert, I’ll be brief and just say that this was one of the top three concerts I have ever seen; a mystical experience that I will never forget. The sound was exceptional, the audience (aged 20 through 50) wholly engaged and enthralled, and hanging off of every word Cohen spoke or sang.

A highlight was when Cohen sang “Waiting for the Miracle”. When he reached the line “baby, let’s get married” he was interrupted with the shriek of about half a dozen college aged women screaming their enthusiastic support for the notion. He paused, and then impishly noted the age gap, saying in his gravel wine-damaged voice, “aah, my children have come home.” When he started the line again and they again interrupted him he stood stock still, head cocked until there was absolute silence at which point he laid it on us, spoken word style:

“It is comforting to know that some ideas are so powerful…they do not diminish with repetition.”

He had those girls in the palm of his hand, and he had that me and that entire audience in the palm of his hands as well.

“Cohen Live” features two songs recorded at that show, “Everybody Knows” and “Suzanne,” which was performed during one of the encores. There were two or three encores at that show and at one of them I remember Cohen sang “I Tried To Leave You” to a mix of appreciation and mirth from the audience. Sadly, this song didn’t make the cut for this particular collection.

While no other songs on “Cohen Live” feature me on the clap-track, it is still just as majestic. He updates every song either with a new phrasing, an extra word here or there and sometimes – as is the case for “Hallelujah” – entirely new lyrics. “Hallelujah” has been woefully over-covered in the years since 1993, but back then it was fresh and real and powerful and the performance on “Cohen Live” continues to be one of the greatest renditions I’ve heard, by Cohen or anyone else.

If I am being honest, there are times on the record when Cohen oversteps in rephrasing a line’s delivery, but if you know the studio versions of these songs well you don’t mind. It just makes the performance fresh and visceral, even on multiple listens.

The album also features a jazzed up version of “There is a War” with a totally different feel than the studio version, and just as powerful. The song reminds you that there is always something worth taking a stand for, and it also reminds me that Cohen was never done experimenting with music, whether he was writing new songs or finding new ways to reinterpret his old masterpieces.

It is wonderful to hear Cohen sing “Joan of Arc” live as a duet, where Joan gets a woman’s vocal for her parts. This is one of Perla Batalla or Julie Christensen. I am embarrassed that I can’t remember which but it doesn’t matter; they are both great and add texture, depth and emotional resonance to this song and every other one besides.

It isn’t just Batalla and Christensen either. Every show I’ve seen Cohen play has featured incredible musicians. He graciously gives them a moment to shine, politely tells the crowd their name, complete with honorific (“Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Paul Ostermayer”) and carries on with the song in perfect time.

“Cohen Live” is a great record, and it is even greater for me because of the emotional resonance it holds. I saw Cohen again the very next day at the Royal Theatre in Victoria. Same tour, although I think it was a slightly altered set-list. Or maybe that is just the romantic in me, remembering it that way. That would be appropriate, as Cohen has always stirred the romantic in me, and always will.

Best tracks: I love all these tracks, so I have selected this list as ones that stood for helping me to see old songs in a new light: Everybody Knows, Joan of Arc, There is a War, Hallelujah, Who By Fire, Heart With No Companion

CD Odyssey Disc 1215: Neko Case

I’m still curating my “best of 2018” album list but – spoiler alert – this next album will be on it.

Disc 1215 is… Hell-On

Artist: Neko Case

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? Neko Case, smokin’ hot as always. This cover also answers that age-old question, “should I put a fire out with human hair?” The answer is no.

How I Came To Know It: Neko Case is a brilliant singer-songwriter. I love all her other albums and bought this one the day it came out.

How It Stacks Up:  I have nine Neko Case albums but despite the odds, this is only my second one reviewed. Despite fierce competition, “Hell-On” is one of the best. I rank it third overall.

Ratings:  4 stars

“Hell-On” is a bouquet of a dozen black roses, each song a moody beauty that holds wisdom, insight into the human condition and a thorn or two to prick the unwary.

As ever, Case’s vocals are big brassy and powerful in the low register, and almost hymnal when she climbs up into her head-voice. I could listen to Neko Case sing the phone book and be happy. On my first listen to “Hell-On” I found myself in an unfamiliar position; being carried away on the tone at the expense of what she was saying. Usually, I am drawn strongly to lyrics, and while “Hell-On” features some amazing songwriting from that perspective, I was initially drawn to the tune alone.

Contributing to this is some inspired production decisions, which is layered and rich without ever feeling busy. Instead, it gives the songs an echo, like Case is singing in an abandoned church or sea-cave rather than in front of studio mic.

Part of that is that the songs are composed to have a haunting quality. Case essentially admits this on “Pitch or Honey” where she sings:

“I use major chords
To make this a sadder song
An effective manipulation
Moonlight reflected is many times stronger”

That moonlight imagery is evocative of the whole record, combining the mystery of the moon, with the eerie reflection of its power off water. I didn’t feel a lot of fire on “Hell-On” but I felt plenty of restless contemplation carried along on oceanic metaphor.

Despite the dark themes, Case’s delivery is triumphant, reaching out across the sunless seascapes she creates a beacon. You feel discomfited and reassured at the same time. The effect is energizing.

Once I was drawn into the narrative quality of the songs, “Hell-On” was replete with lines that jump out at you, often evoking the ocean in the process. The self-aware regret of the character on “Curse of the I-5 Corridor” sings:

 You were a good man before you knew it
And I’m not vain enough to think
That I’d have been good for you if I’d stayed
In the current of your life
I was an eyelash in the shipping lanes.”

The reckless love on “Winnie”:

“That's when I met Winnie
I wanted to be her sailor's tattoo”

And the romantic wonder of “Oracle of the Maritimes”:

“The oracle of the Maritimes
He said ‘come on, sweet girl, let's find you an ocean
That goes with your eyes’”

In each case the rich lyrical content is melded to brilliant melodic structures that underscore their dark themes and hidden strength.

Case has always been a great collaborator (she is 1/3 of case/lang/veirs and 1/8 of the New Pornographers). Here she brings in Crooked Fingers’ lead singer Eric Bachmann for a duet on “Sleep All Summer.” This song is the pretties little duet about dying love I’ve heard in a while. This is a song set to a sway that’ll make you think of high school proms and weddings. You’ll find yourself slow-dancing and only halfway through realize Case is singing about loss, not commitment.

“Hell-On” works equally well as a single mood piece or a series of crowd-pleasing singles you can pull from the record as needed. I pulled one for a recent New Year’s Eve setlist (“Last Lion of Albion”) and it is just as beautiful separated from its bouquet. My only regret is not choosing “Gumball Blue” – a song that actually references New Year’s Eve. I made the same mistake passing over on St. Vincent’s “Happy Birthday, Johnny”. I’ll have to remedy those oversights.

However, there is nothing to remedy about the record itself, and the reason it was represented on playlist was because it is one of the best albums of 2018. Make yourself a resolution to go buy it.

Best tracks: Hell-On, Last Lion of Albion, Curse of the I-5 Corridor, Oracle of the Maritimes, Winnie, Sleep All Summer, Pitch or Honey

CD Odyssey Disc 1214: Rilo Kiley

Welcome to the start of the NFL post-season! Once again my beloved Miami Dolphins did not make it in, but I still love a good football game. I’ll be watching today throughout the afternoon and early evening, but first I thought I’d turn to music. As you know, I turn there often.

Disc 1214 is… More Adventurous

Artist: Rilo Kiley

Year of Release: 2004

What’s up with the Cover? Trees and houses on a hill. Maybe this is San Francisco but it is such a rudimentary drawing it is hard to know. I declare this cover…not good.

How I Came To Know It: This was just me drilling through Rilo Kiley’s catalogue after I already liked them.

How It Stacks Up:  We have four Rilo Kiley albums plus a compilation of outtakes and rarities. Since I counted Pearl Jam’s “Lost Dogs” as an album for stacking purposes I’ll do the same with that compilation. That gives us five records, with “More Adventurous” ranking third.

Ratings:  3 stars but almost 4

If you like Rilo Kiley’s indie pop approach to life’s philosophical questions on their first two records, then “More Adventurous” is more of the same, albeit with a slicker and denser production.

While I didn’t like “More Adventurous” as much as “Takeoffs and Landings” (2001) and “The Execution of All Things” (2002) it wasn’t because of the production, which is artfully done and enhances the songs rather than competing with them. It is that the songs (melodically and lyrically) are a small step down. Fortunately, coming from the lofty heights of their earlier records a small drop still results in an excellent record.

Jenny Lewis’ vocals have always had a bit of sixties crooner in her, and songs like “I Never” have an old school sway to them that makes them timeless. At other times, the album defaults to various combinations of pop hooks, rock riffs, horn sections and electronic back beats. The band is deft at combining these disparate elements into pop songs that are toe tapping earworms. Underneath, Jenny Lewis continues to demonstrate a mastery of writing thoughtful lyrics that demonstrate a keen ear for character, image and emotional depth.

The opening track “It’s a Hit” is often noted for its unkind references to then US President George W. Bush, but I like that Rilo Kiley isn’t content to settle for that, expanding the dangers of ego from politics into art, and ultimately, reflect back on themselves and their desire to write a hit. The lesson: we all get a little self-absorbed from time to time and it is important to call bullshit on yourself as much as it is to call it on others.

Jimmy Tamborello (aka Dntel) does some guest electronica elements on “Accidntel Death” (get it?) which work surprisingly well. I have a friend who is into electronica a few years ago and gave me some Dntel music. It was OK, but so much better when uplifted by Jenny Lewis’s vocals and thoughtful lyrics.

My favourite song on the record is the equally poorly titled “A Man/Me/Then Jim” which features a sparse production with light guitar pick, the slightest amount of horn and some hand drumming to accompany Jenny Lewis singing about the slow fade of love. The song is light and sweet on the surface, but the topics are about frayed and collapsing love, and disenchantment with the world. It opens with:

“I had one friend in high school recently he hung himself with string

His note said, ‘if living is the problem, well that’s just baffling’”

And gets progressively sadder from here. With its themes of isolation and quiet desperation it reminded me favourably of Paul Simon’s “Slip Sliding Away”.

As usual there is one annoying song sung by Blake Sennett. This one is “Ripchord” which is a stripped down track with just guitar and voice that sounds like it was recorded in a tin can. I generally dread Sennett’s contributions to Rilo Kiley albums, but the least they could have done her is applied the same production excellence to his song as exists on the rest of the album.

Overall, “More Adventurous” is another solid entry in Rilo Kiley’s discography. The band only made four true albums before they split up, but fortunately for us they were all good.

Best tracks: It’s a Hit, Portions for Foxes, The Absence of God, More Adventurous, A Man/Me/Then Jim