CD Odyssey Disc 1381: Leonard Cohen

This last album made me think of my recently departed friend, Karen. A lot does these days, I suppose.

Karen and I once took swing dancing lessons together. I was the third person through the same class with her, following behind her partner Nick, and our friend Andrew. Her appetite for swing dancing just always managed to exceed that of her partners.

We had a great time, but swing-dancing didn’t stick with me either. But damn it, for those eight-odd classes we danced, and we spun, and we laughed. Later we showed off what few moves I could remember to our friends with joy and delight.

Despite being on her third spin through the beginner’s class, Karen was graceful and gracious throughout. Now that she’s gone, I’m so glad I did that.

Thanks for the dance, Karen.

Disc 1381 is…. Thanks for the Dance

Artist: Leonard Cohen

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? Nothing. This might as well be a menu cover for a fancy steakhouse.

How I Came To Know It: I love Leonard Cohen and I buy all his albums.

How It Stacks Up: I have 14 Leonard Cohen albums and this one comes in last. Sorry, Leonard.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Thanks for the Dance” suffers from a malaise common to posthumous releases; no one is quite sure what to do with the unfinished material. The result is an album that feels half finished because that’s exactly what it is.

When Leonard Cohen recorded “You Want it Darker” in 2016 he knew he was dying. The record has a beautiful finality to it and was a fitting bookend to a legendary career that had started with “Suzanne” almost 50 years earlier. Cohen made peace with his impending end, and gave us a beautiful goodbye, filled with all the wisdom and longing he was known for.

The vocal tracks for “Thanks for the Dance” were recorded around the same time, but Cohen never got the chance to set them to music. The music that is added later is principally written by Cohen’s son, Adam.

It’s unfortunate, because while Cohen’s greatest talent is far and away, his lyrical prowess, he is also an underrated songwriter. Look no further than the masterful “Hallelujah.” That song is excessively performed on singing competition shows for a reason; it has a gorgeous melody. Hell, some of the song’s most memorable lyrics (“It goes like this/the fourth, the fifth/the minor fall/the major lift”) is Cohen vocalizing what the tune is doing. Bottom line: the guy could write a song.

On “Thanks for the Dance” the music is timid in the mix, and apart from the occasional instrumental flourish, it doesn’t add much to the songs. There are two happy exceptions. First, the sexy and sultry “The Night of Santiago” where Javier Mas’ Spanish guitar is so delightful you forgive the relative sparseness in the rest of the song. And “The Hills” which is the one song where the music is also by Leonard Cohen. Even so it is a bit too quiet, but there are echoes of his talent for landing somewhere between majesty and apocalypse.

Otherwise, the album leaves Cohen to rely almost entirely on the considerable power of his words. As ever, these flow out of him in that low gravelly confessional style he mastered on his later records. Even though these are more beautiful words from the master storyteller, they still have this nagging feeling of being hangers-on; leftovers and cutouts desperate to be paired with the full power of Cohen’s artistic voice.

While the record has a host of amazing talent helping out - Daniel Lanois, Beck, Jennifer Warnes, and Feist among others – none of them add a lot of innovation. Even the backing female vocals which usually help his words soar, are quiet and distant.

Over the weekend I was listening to Nick Cave’s latest album, “Ghosteen”. Like Cohen, Cave is a born poet, and when it comes to musical arrangements, he is even more fearless. I would have loved for Nick Cave to be handed the reins of “Thanks for the Dance” to load whatever crazed bat-shittery came to his mind in order to enhance what he heard in all Leonard’s words of wisdom.

Instead, we get a diminished record, still resonant and powerful on the pure evocative power of Cohen’s poetry, but unable to transcend beyond just that power.

But don’t despair. Even here, there is still magic in the old man’s words. A vibrant and powerful energy that makes the record worth your time for the images alone. My favourite moment on the record is “The Night of Santiago” where Cohen recalls (or perhaps creates) a youthful memory of love consummated on a riverbank.

Cohen may have been near his own end, but the lines of the song are as virile as ever. And in this week where so much of life has been tinged with sadness, I leave you with just one stanza of that song, full of life and the lush and the restorative power of memory:

“Her thighs, they slipped away from me
Like schools of startled fish
Though I've forgotten half my life
I still remember this
Now, as a man I won't repeat
The things she said aloud
Except for this, my lips are sealed forever
And for now
And soon there's sand in every kiss
And soon the dawn is ready
And soon the night surrenders
To a daffodil machete
I gave her something pretty
And I waited till she laughed..”

Best tracks: Happens to the Heart, Moving On, The Night of Santiago, The Hills

CD Odyssey Disc 1380: Matt Patershuk

It has been a hard week for me and my circle of friends, as on Monday we all collectively said our goodbyes to our dear and close friend, Karen Wipond.

Moments after she passed, I was walking to meet up with my friend (and Karen’s partner) Nick, focusing hard on keeping it together. I decided that listening to some CD Odyssey related album in that moment was too much and went with the rarely used “random all” setting on my MP3 player. It holds around 17,000 songs and the one that came on first? Bill Withers’ “Lean on Me”.

When I did find it within myself to get back to the Odyssey, the randomly selected album was this next one by Matt Patershuk. An album that, like the Bill Withers tune, was exactly the sentiment that needed expressing.

Disc 1380 is…. I Was So Fond of You

Artist: Matt Patershuk

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? A Giant Head Cover. In this case the Giant Head was painted by Patershuk’s sister, Clare, who was killed by a drunk driver on the Canada Day weekend of 2013. No jokes about the Giant Head this time.

How I Came To Know It: I read about Patershuk in a Canadian folk music magazine called Penguin Eggs. I think it was the album after this one, but I got here by drilling backward.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Matt Patershuk albums now. Of the four, “I Was So Fond of You” is #1. And that’s saying something, because Matt Patershuk records are consistently excellent.

Ratings: 4 stars

Whew. Tough week, but Matt Patershuk was just what Dr. Music prescribed; a gentle collection of narrative gems glugging out bittersweet songs at the crossroads of folk and country, like a tipped over bottle of bourbon.

Patershuk has a voice that was built to make a room quiet without ever yelling. He just seems the type that when he speaks, people listen. When he sings it’s even better. His baritone is smooth and full and within the first couple of lines it sinks you deep into whatever story Patershuk is telling.

The record additionally benefits from the backing vocals of Ana Egge. Regular readers will know my love for Egge’s solo work, but it was her efforts on Patershuk’s records that discovered her to me in the first place. She sings in what I think is the same key as Patershuk, only one octave higher (I could be wrong, I’m not good at that sort of thing). Whatever she’s doing, it is perfect, coming in on the most poignant parts of the song and adding a sting of folksy sweetness on top of Patershuk’s rustic, country troubadour style delivery.

The record has plenty of sad moments, notably the title track, which is an ode to Patershuk’s dead sister, Clare. It was hard to listen to this song this week, but it was also therapeutic. Patershuk is sad, but he’s also grateful for the great memories. It is a good perspective, and worth internalizing. The song is the most raw and honest on the record, delivered with an ambling gait that gives it a traditional western feel.

Patershuk reserves his deeper darkness for the fictional parts of the record, such as “Harviestown” in which the narrator plans to exact vigilante justice on a ne’er-do-well who murdered a loved one. The additional tragedy of the story is caught in Patershuk’s complex portrait of his character. Not a murderer by nature, just a simple man who in his grief can’t see any other way to get justice:

“Well, I’m goin’ down to Harviestown

To do what must be done

And I’m gonna use my two bare hands

I won’t need that gun.

“Well I try to be a better man

I need his blood here on my hands

I know it’ll take a piece of me

But I must do it if I can.”

Even in his resolution, the “if I can” implies the man is not inclined to violence, and aware he is not built for suck black acts. It gives the song a human touch and ending with those lines, an uncertain outcome.

The album is replete with standout narratives like this, including a wonderful song about a World War Two veteran who finds solace from the memories of conflict in music on “Little Guitar.” “Pep the Cat Murdering Dog” is a lighthearted semi-factual account of a dog sentenced to life in prison in 1924 by a warden for purportedly murdering the cat of the warden’s wife.

The album ends with “Tennessee Walker” a love letter to a horse. The song has a jump in the rhythm that made me want to line dance or two-step or any of those other western dances I can’t do that look like a lot of fun. The song also features a tip of the hat to Steve Earle’s “Copperhead Road, with Earle’s big black Dodge lines converted back to original horsepower:

“Well I still remember that rumblin’ sound

All four feet coming off the ground.”

And a couple well-placed shouts of “hep!” shouts a la Earle for good measure. Halfway through the song when Ana Egge’s vocals come in with some call-and-answer action, the song is elevated from pleasant memory to pure joy.

Ultimately “Tennessee Walker” is another memory of sister Clare; this time of her favourite horse. Her memory is laced through the record, and while her death looms large in Patershuk’s writing, her life looms even larger, bringing resolve and comfort without ever feeling trite or false. Like I said earlier; it was just what I needed.

Best tracks: Prettiest Ones, Smoke a Little Cigarette, Harviestown, I Was So Fond Of You, , Little Guitar, Pep the Cat Murdering Dog, Tennessee Walker

CD Odyssey Disc 1379: Lillie Mae

I’m having a surreal day today, as I deal with life events that I don’t feel ready to share right now. On tough days like this I like to fill any quiet time in my head with either a lot of work or a lot of words; sometimes both.

So if what follows feels kind of like any other review, or makes you wonder just how distracted I am, well, that’s kind of the point. Or as Tennyson once put it in “In Memoriam”:

“But, for the unquiet heart and brain,

A use in measured language lies;

The sad mechanic exercise,

Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.”

Other people’s words help too, I guess.

Disc 1379 is…. Forever and Then Some

Artist: Lillie Mae

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Another Giant Head Cover. This one has Lillie Mae staring very intently at me and I’m not gonna lie; I like it.

How I Came To Know It: I heard about Lillie Mae through her 2019 album “Other Girls” and this was just me drilling through her back catalogue.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Lillie Mae albums, and if you’re a careful reader you’ll already know what they are. Of the two, “Forever and Then Some” comes in at #2.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

This album had a disadvantage in that it came to me at a time that I was heavily distracted by life. As a result it played to me through a bit of a haze and never really sank in the way it might have if I’d heard it under better circumstances. That said, a record’s gotta stand on its own two feet, regardless of circumstances. Art doesn’t get to choose when it comes your way and in the case of the Odyssey, I rarely get to choose when I seek out any particular album.

“Forever and Then Some” is a solid alt country record that makes me hope that Lillie Mae is around making music for a long time. It has a slow mosey to it that goes so far to even get to the edge of “country” and look out onto the edges of “western” on the horizon. It isn’t the subject matter that does this, but rather an overall sound that evokes worn wooden floorboards and long cinematic John Ford shots looking through farmhouse doors at desolate desert vistas.

Lillie Mae’s vocals are full of grit and hurt. They won’t bowl you over with power or range, but they’ll dig deep nonetheless, scraping away at you down in your bones. She sings about hurt, heartache and hard living and she comes away as authentic every time.

She’s at her best when she’s singing about regret and bad luck. “Wash Me Clean” is a song that speaks of the metaphorical grime that builds up over the years. While the song is mostly mournful, there is a strange hope in there, exemplified by the undulating melody that has a bit of a Rankin Family feel, if the Rankins sang less about rural barn dances and more about the hangover the morning after.

The musicianship on the record is exemplary. Lillie Mae is a member of the Rische family. They toured for many years as a band called Jypsi, and all that playing time translates to a sound that is both organic and precise. Noteworthy is the mandolin playing of sister Scarlett Rische, but Lillie Mae is no slouch on the fiddle either. The two of them do all the songwriting as well, with Lillie Mae writing most of the songs solo, and Scarlett helping out on two or three. The harmonies are what you’d expect from sisters that have played music together all their life: sublime.

“To Go Wrong” has a real “shit happens” vibe. It shares a dark view of life with a chorus of “good things were meant to go wrong.” Not always true, but it can feel that way when it happens, and Lillie Mae’s hurtful warble underscores the point.

The record is country, but it comes with a healthy dose of bluegrass sensibilities, with a lively jump on the rhythm and all the players getting a ‘turn’ to show off their talents. It also keeps everybody kept nice and even in the mix. The album was produced by Jack White, who shows his deep respect to these country and bluegrass traditions. White may be a blues-rocker himself, but like Rick Rubin, he has a knack for capturing the sound and essence of the act he’s producing, and then bringing it to full-flower.

The record didn’t always penetrate down deep like I wanted it to, and sometimes the production in striving to be rustic and authentic strayed into “tinny” territory. Sorry, Jack. However, these were minor moments on a record that has such solid songwriting and musicianship that I know it will continue to sink in both deeper and better on each new listen.

Best tracks: Honky Tonks and Taverns, Wash Me Clean, These Daze, Forever and Then Some, To Go Wrong

CD Odyssey Disc 1378: Sera Cahoone

Sheila often talks about clothing as armour, but today I experienced clothing as camouflage. On my walk home from work I go through some sketchy parts of town. In a suit it can feel a little awkward (and I probably make the residents awkward as well). Today I changed into shorts and a workout shirt and felt far more at ease.

What does this have to do with music, you ask? Nothing at all. Just sharing.

Disc 1378 is…. From Where I Started

Artist: Sera Cahoone

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Um…nothing? We have the usual font/signature she uses for many other album covers, and not much else. Maybe “From Where I Started” refers to a time when she couldn’t afford album art…?

How I Came To Know It: I am a big Sera Cahoone fan, so this was just me eagerly buying her latest release as soon as I heard about it.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Sera Cahoone albums and they are all good. “From Where I Started” is brilliant, landing at a respectable second place, a shade off the perfection of “Deer Creek Canyon”. Here’s a full accounting:

1. Deer Creek Canyon: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 975)
2. From Where I Started: 4 stars (reviewed right here)
3. Only as the Day is Long: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 943)
4. Self-Titled: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1324)

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Sera Cahoone is the siren of sadness; she’s going to make you feel a little melancholy before the album’s over, but it is going to sound so beautiful you’re drawn to the experience anyway.

“From Where I Started” was the first new release from Cahoone in five years, but it was worth the wait. Along the way her sound got a bit brighter and more distinct. This additional lightness works well with the natural dusky moodiness of her voice. Her songs can be as gloomy, but the spring of the banjo, the violin, and the pedal steel offset this to give the songs what every good piece of art needs, a little tension.

Cahoone’s guitar playing (or Jeff Fielder’s – the liner notes are sparse) is also exceptional. The songs vary in tempo and tone and the playing underscores and reinforces each songwriting decision. Sometimes there is a basic strum and sometimes it is a playful picking pattern, but it always feels exactly right. The guitar is the unacknowledged hero of “From Where I Started” a trusty steed that carries you through every song’s narrative, enriching the journey so smoothly you only notice it when you want to.

Even when she guests in on the banjo, Cahoone is a star. On the touching love song “Up to Me” the inspired guitar plucking takes centre stage, but it is Cahoone’s hesitant and romantically awkward banjo bits that elevate the song into a vulnerable, human expression of affection. The banjo doesn’t sound brash and self-assured like banjos often do. Instead it feels like it is working up the courage to say “I love you” and hoping it won’t be rejected.

In terms of subject matter, Cahoone takes her usual introspective journey through relationships, self-doubt and – just when you think your heart’s gonna break – a little domestic bliss.

“Always Turn Around” is an internal journey, and “Better Woman” is a song about appreciating your partner, the more so when you aren’t your perfect self and they love you anyway. The aforementioned “Up To Me” is all shy winks and kisses in the rosegarden. It would be precious, if it weren’t so perfect.

As with most of Cahoone’s records, there are a couple of Grade A heartbreakers. “Ladybug” is the true story of the murder of Cahoone’s niece Tawnee Baird at the hands of her abusive girlfriend. The song opens with a gut punch:

“Tawnee you had just turned 21

When I got the call sayin’ you were gone”

And then goes on to express every emotion of regret and sadness you can muster in 3:22, including a haunting image of Tawnee’s traumatized cat hiding under the bed for two weeks after the murder.

On “Taken Its Toll” Cahoone sings of a relationship ending in the more traditional way; the dull ache and terror of what comes next. The song choked me up every time I heard it (I even cried once).

All this emotional toll didn’t deter me, though; I listened to this album four times straight and could have easily done five. I didn’t want to stop, but the tide was in and the Odyssey was calling me on.

Best tracks: Always Turn Around, Better Woman, Ladybug, Up To Me, Taken Its Toll, Only One, Not Like I, Tables Turned

CD Odyssey Disc 1377: Snotty Nose Rez Kids

I’m having a strange emotional week. On the plus side, I just started a new job and I’m excited about the opportunity and experiences that await me. However, I also have a gravely ill friend who is dying of cancer. This creates quite a maelstrom of its own, only the emotional kind, rather than the creative kind. When I feel glad, it is tinged with grief, and when I feel sad, I try to remind myself of all the things I’m thankful for.

Anyway, it is a lot to process. For now, let’s get back to one of the good things – music.

Disc 1377 is…. Trapline

Artist: Snotty Nose Rez Kids

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? I’m not sure. Given the album title, and knife in his hand, I’m going to guess he’s skinning something. Whatever he’s doing, one look at that coat tells me he is probably warm. That coat looks mighty cozy.

How I Came To Know It: I heard about this band through my coworker and friend Lora, and I wrote it down and then promptly lost the piece of paper for a while. Yes, I’m old school and still write things on pieces of paper – often little pieces of paper like sticky notes. Once enough of them accumulate sometimes there is some collateral damage. Fortunately, this time it resurfaced. I’m glad it did!

How It Stacks Up: I only have this one Snotty Noze Rez Kids album, so it can’t really stack up. They just released a new EP in April and listening to “Trapline” reminds me I need to check that out soon.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Trapline” is not only one of 2019’s best hip hop records; it’s one of the best records of the year, regardless of genre.

It all starts with the rhymes and raps from the duo that make up the band: Quinton 'Yung Trybez' Nyce and Darren 'Young D' Metz. These guys have a smooth, unique flow that draws you in from the first few bars. It hits hard internally, sometimes dropping emphatically on the beat, and sometimes traipsing across it in a flurry of rhyme. The beats are funky and interesting and mix in a lot of layers of syncopation that fit well with the vocal style.

Despite all these complexities, the beats and raps never trip over each other and the sound is clean throughout. The entire experience is light and lively and will have your head bobbing to the groove.

Snotty Nose Rez Kids are clearly students of contemporary music history, hip hop and otherwise, and many songs feature references to other work. They also delve deep into their own Haisla culture, incorporating both their individual experiences of growing up Indigenous and broader cultural notes as well. The combination can be intensely personal, political, spiritual and often a combination of all three.

While Yung Trybez and Young D are great on their own, the record also features a host of other rappers doing guest spots as well. This adds flavour and nuance to the album and keeps it fresh throughout.

I will note that the album is a bit long at 18 tracks (long-time readers will know my “14 tracks maximum” guideline). However, it is a minor quibble this time. Even with that many tracks, many are short spoken word testimonials, holding the whole record to a tight, respectable 56 minutes.

Sometimes I hear a band and I just want them to break big, and that’s exactly what happened to me here. Based on their Youtube traffic alone, the Snotty Nose Rez Kids are already doing just fine, but listening to “Trapline” I feel like they’re poised for even greater things. Here’s hopin’.

Best tracks: Creator Made an Animal, I Can’t Remember My Name, Lost Tribe, Hooligans, Boujee Natives, Yuck-Sue-Yaach

CD Odyssey Disc 1376: The Brother Brothers

I’m just back from a lovely brunch downtown with my lovely wife, and with a full belly and a warm heart, it is the perfect time to do a little writing. Here it is!

Disc 1376 is…. Some People I Know

Artist: The Brother Brothers

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? Too much sun or too much beer? Yes.

In all seriousness, while this drinking establishment looks like a dump, it does come with a ship picture, and I’m a sucker for a ship picture. Also, while these are not some people I know, they look like nice folks all the same.

How I Came To Know It: I’m not 100% sure. I think I read a review of them, or maybe it was just following a list of weekly releases on my favourite site for musical discovery (Paste Magazine). Paste brings me a lot of great leads, but hopefully your favourite site for musical discovery is this one.

How It Stacks Up: I only have this one Brother Brothers album, so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

The Brother Brothers are the musical equivalent of a summer afternoon spent sitting in the shade of a tree by some back-country lake, nothing but some filtered sunlight, birdsong and your own idle thoughts to keep you company.

This is folk music at its most relaxed. The brothers Moss (not just actual brothers, but identical twins) take it slow, letting these songs lightly lilt along, telling simple tales of love and loss that swell in your heart in a meditative ways that borders on the mystical.

There’s something about siblings singing harmonies that always seems to work. Adam and David Moss are the apogee of the experience, singing in two high airy tenors that blend seamlessly together.

In addition to their feathery vocals, they are also exceptional musicians. There isn’t anything complex going on, but the tone of the violin, the banjo (both Adam) and guitar (David) drip with rich textures. Their playing is like a home cooked country dinner; simple fare cooked to perfection that leaves you full and content.

The album opens with “Mary Ann” a heart worn tale of regret for past misdeeds, and the hope that a relationship can be salvaged, even as the narrator admits he has no right to ask for such a benediction:

“Mary Ann, I’m back on my feet again

I know I don’t deserve it

Call me up some time

Until you do, I’ll do me, and you do you

I’m not the type to see it through

But I’m gonna try.”

This is one of music’s all time great “I screwed up and I’m sorry” songs, and despite never ever getting specific about what went wrong, you get a strong sense of the tortured soul making the ask.

On “Banjo Song,” the brothers bemoan losing the joy in creating music, answering the song’s opening question of “Why don’t you play the banjo anymore?” with:

“I’ll tell you boy, why I don’t play no more

Out of tune, discarded instruments

Don’t play like once they did before

That’s why I don’t play it anymore.”

Of course, even while invoking a spirit of loss, those lines aren’t accurate to the song, which features some truly inspired banjo playing from Adam Moss.

In terms of style, the brothers fall strongly in the traditions of Americana folk music, with a trill that mixes Texas and Appalachia, but there are also strong currents of Celtic fiddle and a fair bit of that urban New York Greenwich Village sound that evokes the spirit of early Dylan and Simon and Garfunkel. There is even subtle hints of saxophone that had me thinking favourably of Leonard Cohen. The effect is timeless and enchanting.

This is the Brother Brothers only full-length album (they also have an earlier EP I’m on the hunt for) and I’m looking forward to where their sound goes next. They have a strong grasp of the many folk music traditions, and a natural knack for blending them into something uniquely their own. I am looking forward to what they do next. In the meantime “Some People I Know” is going to get a lot of airplay around the house.

Best tracks: Mary Ann, Banjo Song, Frankie, Colorado, Angel Island, Ocean’s Daughter, Goodbye Ol’ Silver

CD Odyssey Disc 1375: Soundtrack

OK, let’s keep this thing going.

Disc 1375 is…. Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Album

Artist: Various Artists

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? Isn’t it all so romantic! Buffy the Vampire slayer glows in the light, as her tortured vampire boyfriend Angel broods in the shadows behind her. Get a room, already. Actually, don’t. We don’t want Angel experiencing that Moment of Perfect Happiness, losing his soul, and going on a murderous rampage through the streets of Sunnydale.

If none of that made sense to you, then you are not this album’s target audience.

How I Came To Know It: My coworker Anna and her partner were downsizing their CD collection and took a photo of what was available. I spied both this album and another Buffy soundtrack (“Radio Sunnydale”) and offered to purchase them for a cool $5. Instead, they gave them to me for free. Thanks, Anna!

How It Stacks Up: I now have 36 soundtrack albums, and I’m not about to list them all again (I just did this back at Disc 1352 if you want a recap of the first 33). Of those 36 albums, I put BVS: The Album in at #30, right between music from James Bond (Disc 103) and “One From the Heart” (Disc 935).

And now that I have three different Buffy soundtrack albums, I’ll rank it in that subset as well. I don’t have high hopes for “Radio Sunnydale” but since it has an Aimee Mann song and 12 instead of 18 tracks, I’m going to optimistically say it is better. That lands this one (“BVS: The Album”) in last place at #3. Good enough for a bronze however, which is coincidentally the name of the nightclub in the TV show where a bunch of these songs would have been played.

Ratings: 2 stars

How big of a Buffy, the Vampire Slayer fan would you have to be to enjoy this record? I’m going to say more than a big fan. Because I am a pretty big fan. I’ve watched the whole damned series (both series if you count Angel) three times. I’ve turned every character into Arkham Horror board game  characters – yes, even characters like Tara and (shudder) Riley. And yet, even I find my fandom insufficient to enjoy large portions of this extremely long record.

There are good songs. For starters, I’m a sucker for the visceral kick in the pants that is the show’s theme song by Nerfherder. This is one of TV’s great themes, falling just short of gems like Hawaii Five-0 and Stingray. Listen to it as you watch the Buffy Season Three intro and tell me you don’t get goosebumps at the end as the camera pans around a very dangerous Buffy Summers, ready to kick some serious ass with a war axe.

Track Two is also pretty killer. Guided by Voices’ “Teenage FBI” is easily the best song on the album, with a high-octane tune about how sometimes the people you love the most bring out the worst in you.

Another standout is Bif Naked’s “Lucky.” I remember the excitement of realizing it was Bif Naked in the background at the Bronze nightclub, belting out some Canadian rock and roll as our heroes and villains had their adventures centre stage.

And yet this album has a lot of problems.

First, it is painfully overwrought. These songs all have the depth of heartache and pain that only young and beautiful people on TV urban fantasy series seem to manage. Let’s call it CWangst, after the network that has perfected the experience. I don’t mind all the drama when I’m watching (except maybe the Buffy/Angel dynamic – that is dangerously close to a CWangst overdose) but the songs all on their own don’t have the emotional gravitas to carry the day.

Bands with painfully of-their-time names (“Hepburn”, “K’s Choice”, “Splendid”) pour their broken hearts out. Other bands (“Black Lab”, “Superfine”, “Four Star Mary”) feature bad boys that aren’t very bad at all, singing about being kinda tough, but also kinda sensitive. Frankly, there is a lot of pining.

Second, the horrible late nineties production I decried in my last Garbage review, is once again in full effect. Lots of loud, not a lot of separation. There is even a Garbage song that is off the one Garbage album I parted with long ago (“Temptation Waits” from Version 2.0).

And finally, the album is just too Goddamned long. 18 tracks and 65 minutes is a lot, and the songs I liked can’t hold up the ones I don’t over that time frame.

Fortunately, outside of this CD Odyssey I am under no obligation to listen to all 18 songs in a row with no skipping. I can just listen to the ones I like when I feel like listening to them.

Also, the physical copy comes with a lot of bonus features! Maybe one day I’ll mail in my Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fan Club Application (conveniently included in the CD booklet and mine for only $29.95 US a year) and receive all of the following:

·         4 issues of the Buffy official magazine

·         Official ID membership card

·         Exclusive cast photos

·         Exclusive Buffy poster

·         Special Buffy bumper sticker.

Like I said, I’m a fan. Which is why I asked for this album in the first place. I regret nothing.

Best tracks: Buffy Theme – Nerfherder, Teenage FBI – Guided by Voices, Lucky – Bif Naked, It Doesn’t Matter – Alison Kraus & Union Station, Wild Horses – The Sundays

CD Odyssey Disc 1374: Garbage

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey! Up next an album that’s been in the collection for a very long time.

Disc 1374 is…. Self-titled

Artist: Garbage

Year of Release: 1995

What’s up with the Cover? I’m going to say this is a close up of a pink boa. Or possibly a skin sample from a dead muppet. Both items that would catch your attention if you found them in the garbage. Of course, what were you doing rooting around in the garbage in the first place? Perhaps investigating the mysterious disappearance of Abby Cadabby…

How I Came To Know It: I think this was Sheila’s album originally. I might have bought it for her as a gift back when a CD was a pretty common gift (it still is for me, but I’m weird). Anyway, I don’t remember exactly how this came into our collection, but it was back when CDs were king. Nowadays, you could find a copy of this album in a bargain bin at almost any record store practically begging you to take it home for a dollar.

How It Stacks Up: We have two Garbage albums. We used to have three, but I didn’t think much of their sophomore effort (“Version 2.0”) and parted with it long ago. Of the two we still have I like them both for different reasons, but I guess I’ll put their self-titled debut in first place by a hair.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

Back in the mid-nineties, before Youtube and streaming services, you listened to two or three singles off an album, and then you bought it and hoped for the best. This didn’t make albums back then any better or worse on average than they are today, but it did mean you didn’t know in advance.

Based on sales alone, Garbage’s eponymous debut was a wild success, going multi-platinum and spawning five radio singles. At the time I thought it was a solid rock record, and like everyone else I took joy in its crunchy guitars and Shirley Manson’s sultry vocals. 25 years later my ardor has faded.

The things that make the record good haven’t gone anywhere. The guitars still crunch, and Manson’s vocals still whisper with sexy promise. However, this time around the record sounded artificial and a bit flat emotionally. This is the result of some questionable production decisions that felt novel and exciting back then, but that haven’t aged well. There are too many layers to the sound, and when it isn’t being layered it is being squelched on and off aggressively, to create an overt and artificial syncopation. All of this drenches the songs in the musical equivalent of getting too much dressing on your Caesar salad.

There are still some great moments. “Stupid Girl” was a hit back in the day and it is still a lot of fun. Yes, there are weird production moments, including some kind of electronic scraping sound that sounds like a robot drinking oil through a straw. However tune is strong enough to carry the day, and even the layering here is used to good effect; stripped away to let Manson’s vocals do their thing, and then thickening up with a groove that makes for a rock song that is also suitable for dancing.

“Queer” also held up well, and even had a picked guitar hook that stands out against the clash of chords that dominate the record. By contrast, “Only Happy When It Rains” has not recovered from radio overplay, and now sounds dated and…dare I say it…corporate?

There are also songs like “Milk” which are supposed to sound mysterious and moody but instead feel soporific. The kind of thing you put on in the back of a lounge where stockbrokers order martinis at the end of the day and talk about work. Yech.

Albums from the mid-nineties can easily run to excess, as every artist suddenly realized that they had 80 minutes of run time, and often not realizing they shouldn’t use it all. At 12 songs and 50 minutes, “Garbage” is surprisingly restrained for its time. This, combined with some high points and a bit of nostalgia for my twenties, together saves this one from the ignominy of the bargain bin. For now.

Best tracks: Supervixen, Queer, A Stroke of Luck, Stupid Girl

CD Odyssey Disc 1373: Ana Egge (with the Stray Birds)

It is my birthday week, and I’ve celebrated by both a) taking some time off and b) buying a bunch of music. I might’ve overdone it a bit, with 10 new albums either in my possession or winging their way to me as I type this.

I’ll talk about those albums when I randomly roll them for a review. And speaking of the Odyssey’s dice gods, they have been noticeably favouring this next artist a lot. This is the third review of her in the last 27 albums and the fourth in the last 75.

Disc 1373 is…. Bright Shadow

Artist: Ana Egge

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? Only one of the best Giant Head covers ever. Ana Egge has created a still life out of her own profile, replete with all manner of flora and fauna. My favourite detail is the cat peering out from her neck.

How I Came To Know It: I knew Ana Egge through a Matt Patershuk album where she did some guest vocals. However, this album was of particular interest for me because she made it with another of my favourite bands, the Stray Birds. Finding it was damned hard, and I eventually located it through Amazon a few months ago. I use Amazon as a last resort but I really wanted this album, and so I succumbed to Jeff Bezos’ charms. “Never again!” I thundered after clicking “purchase,” knowing deep down I’d probably give in again down the road.

How It Stacks Up: I am still on the lookout for two more Ana Egge albums, but currently I own only four. “Bright Shadow” comes in at #1. In addition, this is now my last Ana Egge record (so far) and so here’s a recap:

1. Bright Shadow: 4 stars (reviewed right here)
2. Bad Blood: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1347)
3. Road to My Love: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1302)
4. Lazy Days: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1345)

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

On every album, Ana Egge puts a little bit of a different spin on her contemporary folk stylings. On previous reviews I’ve noted her crossover into indie, radio pop and good old rock and roll. “Bright Shadow” is Egge’s nod to bluegrass. The album drips with folksy intimacy and jumps with a bluegrass beat. Somewhere in between the two, magic happens.

It helps to have the Stray Birds as a backing band. If you haven’t heard of these guys before you should correct the error. In the meantime, let me give you a bit of a teaser: they are three of the finest bluegrass players in America. Egge is no slouch on guitar herself, and when you add in Maya De Vitry (fiddle, banjo), Charles Muench (upright bass) and Oliver Craven (mandolin, fiddle, slide guitar) you get an embarrassing surfeit of talent. While I partially regretted not being treated to Maya De Vitry’s lead vocals, her contributions to the harmonies and backing tracks provide just enough to leave you wanting more.

Besides, Egge’s voice is plenty strong enough. If anything, she reaches her greatest heights on this record, blending world weary romanticism with a sweet and resonant tone that has you hanging on her every word.

The Stray Birds’ bluegrass and Egge’s more contemporary stylings marry perfectly on “Flat Top Guitar” a song about an old guitar and the happy memories of all those who have played it, from long-distant county fairs to the more recent efforts of some neighbourhood kid. It’s a fanciful notion, but if you’ve ever listened to a well-worn guitar’s tone, it is easy to believe it remembers its lifetime of notes and chords.

On the bluegrass side of the dial, we are treated to a reimagining of a traditional fiddle tune with “Jenny Run Away”, and a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Wildflowers” which – dare I say – I liked better than the original. Both tunes showcase the Stray Birds’ skill once again.

On the more contemporary side, the title track is a delightful exploration of the wild and the beautiful. This song will have your soul lilting gently up and out of your chest but don’t worry, it’ll feel good. The hymn-like “Rock Me (Divine Mother)” immediately follows to coo and comfort that soul back down again and into a state of alert restfulness. And as for “Turning Away”? Well, that’s a song that’ll break your heart into a million pieces in just 2:39, and leave you glad it happened. Sadness was never so sublime.

The album ends with “The Ballad of Jean Genet”, a gorgeous character study of the French writer. I’ve never read any Genet, but if his stuff is half as sad and beautiful as the Ana Egge song that memorializes him, I’m looking forward to the opportunity.

In terms of production, bluegrass – with its inherent bent toward egalitarianism – tends to create exactly the sound I like most. Egge produces the record herself, and keeps everything even in the mix, with lots of space to let the brilliance of the individual players shine through.

My only gripe with this record is that it is only 28 minutes long. I listened to it four times today and while I never got tired of it, I did regret there not being more to it. As problems go, wishing your record wouldn’t end isn’t a bad one to have.

Best tracks: Flat Top Guitar, Jenny Run Away, Bright Shadow, Rock Me (Divine Mother), Wildflowers, Turning Away, the Ballad of Jean Genet