CD Odyssey Disc 1679: AJJ with some bonus Tom Jones

My first random roll this time was of a single CD (like a 45) but that wasn’t enough to hold my full attention, so I rolled again and paired that 45 with a full record. So first, here is the full record review and when you are done that there is a bonus “mini review” that follows. You’re welcome!

Disc 1679 is…Disposable Everything

Artist: AJJ

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover?  A disturbing skull creature stands amidst the detritus of humanity. There is a lot of bad stuff here such as rockets, bombs and (worst of all) a smart phone. There are also some useful things. I see a fire extinguisher, a compass and even a ladder. In the background there is a shack that – who knows? – may be full of tools!

To get there you’ll have to get past skull guy, who despite his casual sport socks looks like he could run pretty fast and brain you with that cannonball, and not even spill his beer while he’s doing it.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review of these guys and listened to a couple of tracks. This led me to listen to the whole album and, well, here we are. I believe I ordered it through my local record store, which is always my first option. Shop local!

How It Stacks Up: This is my only AJJ album so it can’t stack up

Rating: 4 stars

AJJ is the type of music you put on when you want to confront your anxiety. Maybe even get introduced to a few new anxieties you didn’t know you had. It is OK though, it’ll make you think your way through this new anxiety (you know you were going to do that anyway) and emerge the other side having befriended the experience. Mostly.

Lead singer Sean Bonnette is the focal point of the music, with his high quaver, and slightly manic phrasing, he infuses every song with restless energy. He doesn’t go for a deep emotional delivery but makes up for it with an innate vulnerability. You want to put your arms around him, knowing he’ll be shaking a little like a cat on the veterinarian’s examining table.

Bonnette channels that energy into some of the most thoughtful music I’ve heard in some time, although it doesn’t feel that way when you first encounter it. On the surface AJJ feels like a cheap party trick, bouncing about with clever turns of phrase that will get old on repeat listens.

Instead, the reverse happens. You start to dig in. Behind that plain language, there is some genuine earthly dread being expressed. AJJ is not going to suggest it is all going to be OK, they’re going to question whether – like the album cover suggests – everything is disposable. Even the basic values that underpin our society. On “Death Machine” they fire it at you with an up tempo and impotent fury:

“This is no exaggeration, we're living in a death machine
And no, it's not just your imagination
You've been living in a death machine
Some of us are passengers, and some of us are driving
Almost everybody's getting bled to death to keep the motor running”

On the title track, it is introspective and awkward, but no less apocalyptic:

“Lately I've been feeling good and that makes me feel so bad
If happiness is finite, then I've had all I should have
Do I steal it from another? Does it come right out of me?
Disposable everything…”

It would be so easy for this stuff to slip into the maudlin, like an indie version of emo, but that’s not what happens. It rides the edge of uncertainty from the opening note until the last drumbeat.

It helps that the music is thoughtful and pitch perfect to the message. There is a bit of a folk element, at times tinged with a bit of Bill Withers soul. The sensibility is punk, but the melodies are just too intricate and interesting to remotely be punk. It is the soul of punk, pushed through the meat grinder of a half dozen other styles.

Ever-ready to examine their own situation, AJJ even confronts even their stylistic choices with the same existential dread. On “I Hate Rock and Roll Again” Bonnette opines:

“I hate rock and roll again, Rock and roll is not my friend
I hate rock and roll again
Insipid lyrics and boring riffs, Every choice is obvious
I hate rock and roll again”

Yet this song is the most rock and roll on the album, with a tune that is obvious at times, but also timely. They hate rock and roll but at the same time they love it. And hate themselves for loving it. And the whole time remind us that rock and roll is at its core, an art form rooted in rebellion and like any rebellion, it must inevitably turn on itself.

Throughout all this onion-peeling and philosophical exploration, AJJ consistently delivers songs with compelling grooves and melodies. For a bunch of guys claiming to hate rock and roll, they sure are good at it.

Best tracks: Dissonance, Moon Valley High, Death Machine, Disposable Everything, I Hate Rock and Roll Again, Schadenfreude

Bonus Content: Tom Jones & Stereophonics

Mama Told Me Not to Come – CD Single!

Year of Release: 1999

What’s Up with the Cover?: Some downtown scene. Based on the local stores, probably not the nicest part of town. Unless of course that store is selling true love and playing arthouse films. I just kinda doubt it.

How I Came To Know it: I was in Powell River and Sheila was off on her own vintage shopping and bought a bunch of used CDs cheap at a local vintage store. This was one of them.

Rating: Yes!

Yes, you read that subtitle correctly. This is a CD single (which is what passed for a 45 back in the late nineties/early oughts) of the Tom Jones single “Mama Told Me Not to Come” which he performs with the Stereophonics.

I was NOT looking for this record, but holy crap am I glad Sheila bought it for me on spec., because this is Tom Jones at his cheesiest, which is to say, his best.

Three Dog Night made this song famous, and their version is OK, but it is nothing compared to the gratuitous machismo of Tom Jones, who takes a cautionary tune (mama tells you not to do a thing) and makes doing that thing sound like the single best party ever.

The CD single format often has an alternate version of the song on it, and this album is no exception, with a “Rotten Remix” version which features some rapping, followed by Tom Jones trying to keep up with said rapping and entirely succeeding.

There is also a “B Side” for 45 traditionalists, with “Looking Out My Window” – also on the main record, also over the top and funky as hell.

This led me to look up the full record, which is called “Reload” and is full of duets with various famous people who clearly relished the chance to ham it up with Tom. That album is now fully going on my “want” list, so consider this little snippet a warmup to the full review!

CD Odyssey Disc 1678: Linda Ronstadt

Sheila is out at the theatre tonight so it is just me and the cat. I love live music, but live theatre? Not so much. Of course when one has music, one is never alone. What music accompanies me (and the cat) tonight? Read on to find out.

Disc 1678 is…Silk Purse

Artist: Linda Ronstadt

Year of Release: 1970

What’s up with the Cover?  A youthful Linda Ronstadt sits in a pig pen, presumably to make the “sow’s ear” reference that makes the title of the record “work”.

I’m not sure who thought this cover was wise, but it was not a good idea in 1970 and it has aged poorly.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve taken a surf through Ronstadt’s discography the last few years, and on my first visit to “Silk Purse” I took a pass. However, when it showed up as part of a trilogy of records on one CD (along with “Hand Sewn…Home Grown” (Disc 1577) and her self-titled effort (Disc 1419)) I decided it was worth picking up after all.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Linda Ronstadt albums, and I’m on the lookout for an eighth. Of the seven I currently have, “Silk Purse” is not a favourite. I’ll put it sixth.

Rating: 3 stars

Any conversation of Linda Ronstadt starts with her voice. It is one of the finest voices in popular music – country or otherwise – and it makes any song sound good. It may be because of this high expectation that “Silk Purse” did not inspire me the way I’d hoped it would.

Yes, Ronstadt can still sing like an angel, but situated between the wholesome “just arrived” feel of “Hand Sown…Home Grown” and the full-blown brilliance of her 1972 self-titled release, “Silk Purse” often feels the awkward middle child.

Ronstadt is a vocalist not a songwriter, and part of being a vocalist is taking each song and making it your own. She does a passable job of it here but is into helped that I knew two of the first three tracks by others and liked their versions better.

The record starts with the classic country tune, “Lovesick Blues” and while Ronstadt does it well, it isn’t the timeless masterpiece of Hank Williams’ late forties version, nor the masterwork of Patsy Cline’s 1960 delivery. If anyone can keep up with the genius that is Patsy Cline it is Linda Ronstadt. Just not this time, I’m afraid.

Ronstadt also takes a run at “Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” but again, I couldn’t help but think of the Shirelles classic and again like it better.

However, you can’t keep a good woman down, and talent eventually finds a way, and so the opening track of Side Two (or Track Six for us currently uncool CD types) she delivers a masterpiece with “Long Long Time.” If there is a more poignant and heartbreaking song of love and loss than “Long Long Time” I can’t think of it right now. This song is pure magic.

It helps that this song was recently rediscovered by the world through an exceptional episode of the TV Show “The Last of Us”. There it bookends one of best 60 minutes of TV (and enduring love) I’ve experienced. So, yeah, I had dewy eyed thoughts of the TV show while listening, but you don’t need a mushroom zombie outbreak to appreciate this song; it can make you dewy-eyed all on its own. The soaring vocals of Ronstadt, lifting through the clouds on wings of triumphant anguish, is just something your ears have to experience. Never has loving and lost been more worth it.

At 4:22 “Long Long Time” is the longest tune on the record, but it is still over way too soon on every listen. Did I rewind it and give it a second go, in a near violation of CD Odyssey rules? Reader, I did.

The record ends strong, with a brilliant tune by Bernie Leadon and ex-Byrd Gene Clark, “He Dark the Sun”. Clark is the most under-rated Byrd to ever play with the band (the most over-rated being David Crosby) and Ronstadt is a worthy vessel for this exceptional tune.

The record ends with a worship tune (“Life Is Like a Mountain Railway”) which had me thinking of country music’s earliest beginnings. It didn’t convert me, but it did reveal true beauty to me in under three and a half minutes, and that was more than enough.

My copy of “Silk Purse” is re-mastered but I didn’t love the result. I suspect the tinny sound of the record is part of its original aesthetic, as Ronstadt was still very much in a “homespun” kind of mode on this record. I would have preferred a bigger, richer sound with a bit more oomph in the lower end. However, it doesn’t ruin the record, which despite not being her best is still a fine selection of tunes.

Best tracks: Long Long Time, Louise, He Dark the Sun

CD Odyssey Disc 1677: Alestorm

Despite a weekend dominated by weekend travel, I was able to sneak in a few private moments and get this review written. There is no sacrifice I am unwilling to make to ensure your music exploration needs are met, gentle reader.

Disc 1677 is…Seventh Rum of a Seventh Rum

Artist: Alestorm

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover?  Here we have the famous undead pirate that graces many an Alestorm album, pouring a drink from his seventh bottle of rum. The other six bottles (representing Alestorm’s first six albums) lay drained and strewn about.

He has a look of anticipatory glee on his face, likely not realizing he doesn’t have sufficient internal organ integrity to get drunk. Maybe he just likes the taste.

How I Came To Know It: I started out on my Alestorm journey back in 2017 when they released “No Grave But the Sea” and I’ve been exploring their discography in both directions ever since. For a while there I tried to be discerning and only buy the very best of their discography, but in the last few years I’ve surrendered to the inevitable truth; I love these guys, even when they’re not at their best.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Alestorm albums, which is all of them. “Seventh Rum of a Seventh Rum” (unsurprisingly, their seventh) is a not their best, but as noted above, I still had a good time. That said, I must perforce rate said good time against the relative good times I’ve had with their other records. In this case, we come up on the bottom half of the list at #5.

Rating: 3 stars but just barely

After a bit of a folksy (for them) record on 2020’s “Cure of the Crystal Coconut” Alestorm bring a bit more of the crunch back to their efforts on “Seventh Rum).

While the record has more furious bass drums and dense arrangements than I’ve seen from Alestorm in a few records, make no mistake – these guys steadfastly refuse to take themselves seriously. They are here to have a good time doing exactly what they do on every record – mix folk and metal together and sing – exclusively – about pirates. Or as it is simply summarized by we who choose to soak in their particular lunacy: pirate metal.

There are some variations within this theme, but they are narrow. Alestorm pirates like to go on quests, steal ships, seek booty, and drink lots of rum. They also throw in pirate-adjacent themes such as partying (which they do a lot) and insulting whoever is listening (also done with frequency). Both of those latter things fit within the piracy…idiom, but I’d say Alestorm makes it a greater focus of pirate life than maybe Edward Teach did.

On the party front, we have the appropriately named “P.A.R.T.Y.” which also has some questing but the main focus of this song is to create an opportunity for the audience to sing along as they spell out “party” in unison. There is also some of their signature keytar, as well as lead singer Christopher Bowe’s signature Scottish brogue, exhorting you to join in the fun.

On the insult front, they’ve got lots of examples. Here’s one of many on the record, this one from the song “Cannonball”:

“Yo ho! Stick a cannonball up your c___
Yo ho! Put your dick in a blender”

The blender reference is off-brand, but you can’t deny it paints a picture. If you don’t like your rock icons telling you where to stick it, Alestorm is not for you. Having seen them live, I can attest that their fans take a great deal of pride in all the expletive-laced invective. The fans shout such lines back up at the stage as vigorously as those on it sing it downward. It’s a lot of fun.

“Under Blackened Banners” is my favourite song on the record sums up this whole feeling of belonging to the “tribe” of piracy mythology Alestorm has developed. The chorus has a nod to pretty much everything that makes this band fun to some, and exasperating to most:

“Raise your hook, raise your sword
Fight the world and face the hordes
We’re the brotherhood of violence,
We’re the sisters of the sea
Sailing under blackened banners
Stealing ships and getting hammered
The destiny of pirates belongs to you and me.”

This song opens with the historically-challenged line “5,000 years ago in the age of dinosaurs” Are Alestorm this stupid? Reader they are not. In fact, they’ve made quite a career out of pretending to be idiots.

Musically this stuff has a lot of folk conventions to composition, landing somewhere between Russian traditional dance tunes and Irish (or I suppose Scottish in this case) drinking songs, with a liberal helping of power chords to fuel the experience.

“Seventh Rum” is named after the Iron Maiden record, “Seventh Son of a Seventh Son” (reviewed back at Disc 1317) and while like a lot of European power metal bands they are clearly influenced musically by Maiden. However, don’t expect the complicated musical compositions of Steve Harris here. Alestorm have discovered a sound they know how to do well, and they stay very much in their lane. What that lacks in creativity the band makes up for with sheer enthusiasm.

For their last three records, Alestorm has following an ongoing saga titled, “Wooden Leg” and “Seventh Rum…” features the third installment of the tale. The original “Wooden Leg” is solid enough, although I’m not sure it warrants two more chapters. But like a lot of what Alestorm does on “Seventh Rum…” they leave no room for such discerning critical consideration. Jump in and enjoy yourself. Or stick your dick in a blender. Whatever you prefer.

Best tracks: The Battle of Cape Fear River, Cannonball, Under Blackened Banners, Seventh Rum of a Seventh Rum, Return to Tortuga

CD Odyssey Disc 1676: Salt N Pepa plus and a third day of Rifflandia

While it may appear I’m cruising for another violation of Rule #2, you would be wrong. Yes this record was released in 1997, but not only is it called Brand New, it is brand new to me., and therefore eligible under Rule #5 for immediate selection. If you want to know how, then read on for details – this is just the teaser, yo.

And following the album review, you’ll get my third day’s worth of Rifflandia recap. Bonus material!

Disc 1676 is…Brand New

Artist: Salt ‘n’ Pepa

Year of Release: 1997

What’s up with the Cover?  The band, representing as twenties gangsters. The Salt n’ Pepa gang traffic in extortion, booze and, of course, rhymes.

How I Came To Know It: This album was not on my radar, but my friend Chris (he who ordered Black’s Magic for me online – see Disc 1635) – knew that I was digging Salt N’ Pepa lately. He saw “Brand New” at a garage sale and bought it for a dollar. Yeah!

How It Stacks Up: I have three Salt N’ Pepa albums and Brand New comes in at…#3. If I had more Salt N’ Pepa albums, I suspect it would be lower. Is this the last shade I shall cast upon Salt N’ Pepa today? Reader, it is not.

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

There is an all-too-common thread of rap bands formed in the mid to late eighties, where they write four great albums and promptly disband. I don’t know if it is just the sub-set of eighties rap bands that I like, I just know that at some point too early in my exploration, the journey comes to an end.

“Brand New” is Salt N’ Pepa’s fifth album, and while it has some gems, it is already straying into that late nineties sound where the groove takes centre stage, at the expense of the flow and vocal gymnastics. This is in part due to the early nineties sampling laws, which made bands have to pay to cut and splice sounds. This had the unintended consequence of bands paying for fewer samples, but using larger pieces of them.

The result? Instead of getting an artful collection of snippets turned into something brand new, you get fully lifted licks. Example – “Boy Toy” which lifts the entire hook from Rose Royce’s “Ooh Boy” (also lifted by Shaggy three years later for “Luv Me, Luv Me”). It isn’t a crime, and the album has great production, but it doesn’t inspire me to the same level.

While the rhymes aren’t at the same level as previous records “Black’s Magic” and “Very Necessary” “Brand New” has groove to spare. These are songs tailor-made for sitting back in recliner leather seats, and sipping margheritas. It is chill personified and I found myself drifting along. In some cases that groove repeats for a little too long, causing me to get a bit fidgety on the lesser tracks, but overall it is hard to get mad at this record.

As ever, the message from Salt N’ Pepa is a positive one, with a lot of love, forgiveness and self-affirmation. When there are diss tracks, they are mostly retaliatory, where the ladies have been either treated wrong, or spoken to with disrespect, and are stepping up to let everyone know just how much that is not on.

The final song is “Hold On” a mix of rap funk  and spiritual, as Salt N’ Pepa give you a message of hope and a little old time religion to boot.

Overall, while this record isn’t ever going to be my favourite, it has some gems on it. I would have liked it much more if I weren’t so damned mad at the band when I listened to it this week. And on that note…here follows a concert review where you can learn more.

Best tracks: RU Ready, Gitty Up, Brand New

The Concert: Rifflandia at the Park– Victoria, BC, September 16, 2023

Saturday night was the final night at Rifflandia (for me – I skipped Sunday to watch football) and I was excited for the lineup, and in particular, Salt ‘N’ Pepa.

The venue was so close to our house that Sheila and I took advantage of the in/out privileges and came and went a couple times to see who we wanted to see and avoid those we didn’t.

Lindsay Bryan

Folk singer Lindsay Bryan opened the show, with a lovely little set. I get the impression from her banter that Bryan got started young but had been away awhile, but if that was the case it did not affect her performance. She was polished, with a lovely voice that filled the afternoon sunshine like a refreshing breeze.

There weren’t many people around either, so we were able to get up nice and close without fear of the festival jostle that I try to avoid.

After Bryan we checked out the merch table but to our shock and dismay, there was no Salt N Pepa merch. No Lindsay Bryan merch either, so we saved ourselves that cost, and promptly left the venue to avoid the next couple of acts. Let’s do that here as well.

Lovely the Band

Our next show was Lovely the Band, a radio friendly pop outfit from Los Angeles. I thought they were OK and had a good groove going, but I was not moved to seek out their records or anything. A lot of folks in the crowd seemed to know their stuff pretty well, so my guess is they are managing to pay their mortgages without me.

Mavis Staples

I was not looking forward to Mavis Staples, but I couldn’t have been more wrong in my attitude. Staples is 84 years young but showed more energy than all the other bands at the festival so far this weekend. Yes, she had to take a break and sit down once or twice (each time taking a healthy swig out of a tea cup with “Mavis!” written on it. Awesome). But she just came back twice as hard once she was on her feet again.

Not only was Staples a true professional, her set was FUN, it was funky, and I danced like a madman from start to finish.

Matt Maeson and dinner

I’d checked Matt Maeson out earlier on Youtube and was excited to see him live, but when it happened I was underwhelmed. I’m not sure if I wasn’t close enough, or just not motivated enough, but it sounded muddy and disengaged.

We decided this was a good time to seek out some food. At a festival one should always get food and a pee break in halfway through the set of the most popular performer you don’t like.

Once again this was teriyaki, because I already knew I liked it. In the lineup I met a very cool gentlemen with an in-depth knowledge of heavy metal. We had a wonderful conversation in which he consistently out-referenced me but I did not mind at all, and mostly I learned a lot. I recognized about 2/3of the bands he referenced and he could have made a couple of the other ones up without me noticing, but I don’t think he did, as he seemed like a good egg. Also he had the same moustache as me, which pretty much guaranteed he had good taste.

We ate in the stands again as Maeson faded away and some other uninspiring artist took the stage (Chet Faker). And before you know it, it was Salt N Pepa time!

Salt N Pepa

I was pretty stoked to see Salt N Pepa. Sure they had deigned to bring no merch, but I was there for the experience, not to just by a t-shirt and mail it in.

Sadly, Salt N Pepa turned to be there entirely to mail it in. Their set started with a bang, busting out “None of Your Business” to the enthusiastic cheers of the now very large crowd gathering in the gloom.

Following that, a couple more hits where I started to notice just how little they did up on stage. A lot of canned music, and a new DJ since Spinderella is still not back with the band. We miss you, Spinderella.

After about four songs, the ladies left the stage entirely, and turned it over to this new DJ. He proceeded to literally play canned music over the PA. A retrospective of a bunch of mega hits from the eighties and nineties that slowly leached all the joy out of the show.

Not only did he just play a bunch of hits, while occasionally shouting “Victoria!” or some tripe, much of it was of the terrible variety. Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name”? Really?

When this first started, I assumed it was just an intro to some cool freestyle or medley or something, and that Salt N’ Pepa would spring back onto the stage with a triumphant “just kidding!” moment. After three or four songs it became clear this was the show. And worse, it went on for a good 20 minutes. As one of friends remarked, it was like listening to a bad wedding DJ.

After what felt like forever (and just before I was going to just leave and go home) Salt N’ Pepa returned as if they had not just essentially given the entire audience the middle finger, sang a few more songs (all hits I think – I was pretty disengaged at this point) and were gone. I can’t remember the playlist, but if you were looking for deep cuts, or anything to suggest you might have, you know, heard their records, you can forget it.

The total experience landed somewhere between bored and dismissive. I left thankful they had brought no merch, since give the quality of the show I would have turned their concert tee into a rag for polishing my car. In time, I’ll get back to remembering how much I love Salt N’ Pepa’s discography, once their lackluster live show is sufficiently forgotten. It can’t happen soon enough.

Diplo

We then left before Diplo came on. Diplo? Dip-no. At least for me.

Despite the bummer end to the weekend festivities, it was still a fun day, where I met a lot of nice partygoer types, some of them friends and some total strangers. I got to people watch all kinds of interesting people and got to be one of the people watched as well. I would definitely do Rifflandia again, but next time I’ll time getting my teriyaki for the Salt N Pepa set.

Concert review: Rifflandia 2023 Day Two

Rifflandia at the Park –  Victoria, BC
September 15, 2023

For this next entry we’ll be doing “live” concert stuff only, on account of the fact that I don’t own a single album by a single band I saw on Saturday. That may change soon, though – live music can be inspiring that way.

Victoria’s Rifflandia music festival has grown a lot over the years, to the point that this year sprawls across two weekends. We’re now into the second of those, so on Friday I took the afternoon off work and headed down early for some tunes.

The venue

For Week Two, Rifflandia has moved back to the comfortable confines of Royal Athletic Park (RAP), a charming little baseball field near Victoria’s downtown. As per Rifflandia tradition, the venue is surrounded by homes and condominiums to ensure that those who live nearby receive a free concert (mostly bass) whether they want one or not. It all ends at ten, so for a Friday night party, not that terrible an ordeal.

I am used to RAP from many years of beer festivals, back before my body rebelled against me and told me I could no longer drink beer. I was hoping for a better bathroom set up than Beerfest, and as good a crowd or better as we got the previous weekend.

The crowd

The crowd was a much bigger age range this time. The 20-35 year old twenty-four hour party people were still there but lured by old rock bands Suicidal Tendencies and Iggy Pop, there were a lot more folks closer to my vintage as well. Also, the flashes of neon had been mostly replaced by black leather and rock shirts.

Once again, everyone was friendly. At one point late in the Iggy Pop set, an older gentlemen raced over to me, eyes wide with unbridled excitement, exclaiming, “Can you believe we’re listening live to “Death Trip”. This is happening!” I confirmed for him that it was, in fact, happening and he then pinched his own cheek to ensure I wasn’t just a further manifestation of his fanciful dream, and capered off at high speed into the night.

We were also lucky to run into many friends, some who we see all the time, some seldomly, and some not for long intervals. All the encounters were welcome.

OK, let’s get to the bands, shall we?

The Poor Choices

As we arrived, local Victoria punk rockers The Poor Choices were already lighting it up on the main stage. I did not know this band prior but was immediately impressed. They were crunching it out and the sound was crisp and clear.

Yes, I know punk rock doesn’t have to be crisp and clear to be good, but I’m of the opinion that being viscerally, authentically, rock and roll does not require the production to suck.

I liked the Poor Choices so much that it was the only t-shirt I bought from the merch tent. I was lured by the logo of an alligator (or crocodile) attempting to devour a dismembered arm on a chain. Also, had for only $20 to the headliner’s $50. I’ll be chasing down their albums anon.

U.S.Girls

OK, technically I do own a U.S. Girls record but I like it only a little, and didn’t feel like reviewing it, OK? It’ll come up soon enough. U.S. Girls aren’t U.S. girls at all, they are the project of Canadian Meghan Remy.

I was pretty excited to see them, but I found the performance lackluster. I admit I didn’t give it the chance it deserved, hanging near the back and only partially paying attention. Also, the sound cut out mid-way through, killing any momentum Remy might have built. After that the mix seemed off, and I just wasn’t feeling it. Bummer.

Sports Team

Up next was British pop band Sports Team. Sports Team sound like a British version of the Killers if the Killers didn’t suck so much. Sports Team apparently gets played on local radio, which I cannot confirm, since I do not listen to local radio. Or radio at all.

I liked Sports Team, but didn’t love them. It was easy to digest pop music and they had good energy. The drummer looked good in a soccer outfit, although based on their name, Sports Team is more about making fun of sports than loving them.

Suicidal Tendencies

Mid-way through Suicidal Tendencies’ set, my buddy Ross noted that the only original member was lead singer Mike Muir. Further research shows a LOT of lineup changes (over the years 35 different people have been in the band. Yes, 35). This was disappointing, although I’m not sure why. I’m not a fan anyway, and if it sounds good, who cares? I think if I were a hardcore fan it would annoy me more, but the hardcore fans in attendance (and there were many) seemed perfectly fine with the lineup.

I don’t fully pick up what Suicidal Tendencies is putting down. They played tight though and had some good crunch to the set. In between songs Muir would exhort cheers from the crowd with various rants amounting to not letting anyone tell you what to do. These rants were underwhelming and a bit rambling.

Suicidal Tendencies had some great t-shirts, easily the best art in the merch table. Unfortunately, not being a fan I couldn’t bring myself to buy one, but did I wish it otherwise? Reader, I did.

OK – next up two artists we intended to skip.

Marc Rebillet

Sheila and I had preplanned to ditch Marc Rebillet and get dinner. We found the festival’s teriyaki hut (a different teriyaki joint from the one the previous weekend, but even more teriyaki-licious!)

Teriyaki bowls in hand, we sat in the stadium stands and got to watch a steady stream of semi-inebriates file their way to the washroom, noting the best t-shirts or outfits as they presented themselves.

Ignoring Rebillet turned out to be a lot harder than I expected. His one-man show, where he improves grooves and rants like a preacher, while interacting with the audience for inspiration was a hell of a lot of fun. Best song was “This One’s For the Children”. A song definitely not for children but that Rebillet would periodically stop to berate the audience, with rants of “Stop enjoying this song. This one is for the children! Let the children have a song!” Etc.

Later he would wear a bra and panties and scream gutterally at various people. It was weirdly entertainnig, and it was nice to see Rebillet use his surfeit of personality to entertain rather than, say, becoming a cult leader.

Two Feet

Then came Two Feet, a band of droning idiocy, where the only good thing was the laser light show behind them. I did not watch much of that either, as facing away from the stage made Two Feet’s music slightly easier to ignore.

Iggy Pop

Finally, as the sun set (in our eyes) Iggy Pop emerged to take control of the stage.

Immediately shirtless, Iggy Pop, now 76 years old, proceeded to show us young folks how to be a punk rocker. You could see his leathery, sagging skin in full glory and a small “skinny man” belly that he would pat affectionately just to let you know he was fully aware of its presence and cared not a whit.

Iggy still has a great voice and he commanded the crowd from beginning to end. The band had a horn section, which (not being an Iggy Pop expert) may or may not be a part of his historical repertoire. I suspect not.

The horns were an awesome addition and did not de-punkify the show in the least. The setlist had commercial standards I recognized (and loved) and cuts clearly for the hard core fans that I did not know (but also loved).

Iggy Pop was born to do this and held the crowd in the clench of his fist from beginning to end. The fact that he is so old makes him more authentic and punk than ever, and the energy he puts into every movement, every note and every crowd interaction, is timeless. I didn’t know I was going to enjoy that show as much as I did, and it was a furiously pleasant surprise. I bought one of his albums the next day and expect more on the way.

That was the overall experience at this day of Rifflandia for me, discovering new bands and finding more than a few I can’t wait to explore further. In fact, the whole time I’ve been writing this I’ve been listening to the Poor Choices’ studio albums and liking what I hear.

My next review will be a third day of Rifflandia, plus an album, as we ease our way back into the traditional format.

CD Odyssey Disc 1675: Run the Jewels and Rifflandia Part 1

I was supposed to review a new Alestorm album on my next review but, in honour of the start of the NFL season I have instead called an audible!

That is because one of my house rules is if I see a band live in concert I can also review their new album at the same time. I had already reviewed this next band’s latest record and so I was forced to deep even deeper into my toolbox of NFL metaphors and…check it down to the running back.

In this case the running back is running the jewels. And the check-down was me reviewing an older (but previously unreviewed) album in my collection. So here is that review and below that my experience of the concert.

Disc 1675 is…Run the Jewels 2

Artist: Run the Jewels

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover?  The traditional Run the Jewels hands. RTJ covers are all variations of this graphic, and here we have them as mummified hands on a field of red. When you have a graphic this iconic, you go with it.

How I Came To Know It: I This was my introduction to Run the Jewels, and I am embarrassed to say that almost 10 years later, I no longer remember how they came to my attention. It could have been a music review, but it also could have been a recommendation from a friend or even a server or someone I randomly met at a pub. I take music advice anywhere I get it and chances are when someone takes the time to recommend a band to me, I check them out.

However it happened, I’m glad it did, because Run the Jewels has become one of my all-time favourite hip hop artists.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Run the Jewels albums and I like them all but Run the Jewels 2 is the Crown jewel – best of them all.

Rating: 5 stars

Discovering Run the Jewels in 2014 had me a year late to the party but felt like a revelation all the same. I had never heard rap like this before, so visceral and so powerful, and yet so connected to the classic masters of the genre it felt like it had existed for decades.

Run the Jewels is comprised of New Yorker El-P and Atlanta native Killer Mike. They both have successful solo careers that are worth your time exploring, but when they come together as RTJ something magical happens.

“Run the Jewels 2” (or “RTJ2”) is a furious assault of bass and beat from the opening notes. The beats don’t feel particularly complicated but the way they put it all together creates an energy the rolls and rolls and rolls, growing intensity with every bar that passes. There is no respite for your ears, but the undercurrent is so funky you don’t want respite. You just want to turn it up.

Lyrically, the rhymes of both El-P and Killer Mike are at the highest level. I’m talking Eminem/Rakim level shit. There are so many examples it is hard to pick but here’s a couple sections from “Blockbuster Night, Part 1”:

“No hocus-pocus, you simple suckers been served a notice
Top of the morning, my fist to your face is f**king Folgers”

That line is so cool I once built an entire playlist around drinking coffee, just so I could feature this song. Later we get this gem:

“The gates of hell are pugnaciously pacin', waitin'
I give a f**k if I'm late, tell Satan "be patient"”

As fun as that stuff is to read, when vocalized by these two masters the mic leaps to life. The only thing that could have competed with the electric energy of the beats are the voices of El-P and Killer Mike, and they are more than up for the challenge.

In many ways this record is a throwback, full of vicious braggadocio-filled raps about how great the duo are on the mic, their sexual prowess, or often both. Yet underneath this obviousness there are clever rhymes, often with political messages inserted sideways, even slightly awkwardly, so you don’t miss hearing it. At other times they add humour and playfulness – just enough to give your heart a smile before they launch into a few more bars of relentless attack.

What I’m saying is, this record is dope. Go buy it.

Best tracks: all tracks

The Concert: Rifflandia’s Electric Avenue – Victoria, BC, September 9, 2023

As I write this, I’m in the middle of a weeklong festival in Victoria that is Rifflandia. This is my first time attending Rifflandia, which tends to feature more hip hop and dance music than I usually like. I was drawn like a flame to see Run the Jewels, however, so around 7 p.m. last Saturday (having skipped “Paris Hilton as DJ” night) Sheila and I headed into the unknown.

Before I get to Run the Jewels, let’s get a feel of what came before.

Blu deTiger

Our first experience was Blu deTiger, who is a DJ who also plays live bass guitar licks and solos that she then samples and loops back into her set. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about this, but it ended up being great. Very funky danceable and the combo effect of live and tape worked well. If anything, I’d have liked more bass soloing, even though I recognize bass solos must always be used sparingly, lest the universe itself crack like an egg.

Teriyaki Hut

This was not a band, it was what Sheila and I had for dinner. It was very tasty and also served as a handy place to return if we got separated. “Meet me at the teriyaki hut!”

Chromeo

Our stomachs happily filled with teriyaki, we gave Montreal DJs Chromeo a chance. I wish that I had not done so. Chromeo was a hot mess. It felt like they were piling too many different competing sounds into one tune, and then having the arrogance to double down and assume it would work itself out. Readers, it did not.

Chromeo’s failure to impress quickly led us to abandon them in favour of a walkabout of discovery to the other stages.

The Dome and Base 2

The Dome was a partially covered geodesic dome with a laser light show located in the darkest part of the festival grounds. Beside the dome there was a chill out zone with couches.

The vibe of the dome was cool, but the music did not appeal and we quickly found ourselves once again exploring, this time to a third stage called “Base 2”. Huh. Maybe it was the second stage…that would make sense.

Jungle Bobby

When we arrived at Base 2 I was starting to feel the swell of my natural extrovert, and was pleased to discover multiple friends there ready to scratch my itch.

Also there was a band called “Jungle Bobby”. Apart from their ill-considered call of “y’all like Pitbull?” (no, Jungle Bobby, I do not), they was a lot of fun. Simple songs with groovy beats and party lyrics. They even had fly girls dancing it up on stage.

XL the Band

After Jungle Bobby we lingered at Base 2 and were soon treated to a very strange band indeed. XL the Band felt like a bunch of music students experimenting after class. They had an MC, a woman vocalist/flautist, a trumpet and a trombone. Hard to describe what they did – a mix of R&B, jazz, funk and pop. It reminded me a lot of Bourbon Tabernacle Choir, a band I followed in the early nineties.

Anyway, it was oddly compelling, and the trombone player (feature artist Nick La Riviere) was their secret weapon. This dude can wail on the trombone, and his solos (yes, trombone solos) were amazing. Would I buy XL the Band’s record and listen at home? Probably not, but they were a hell of a good time live.

Run the Jewels

With Chromeo safely removed, we returned to the main stage and took in Run the Jewels. RTJ hit the stage like a thunderbolt, immediately held the audience in the palm of their stylized hand logo and never let go.

The sound was excellent. You could pick out every word, and many in the audience were clearly hard-core fans, able to sing along and hit catch phrases correctly and in time.

There were a few musical tourists in the audience for sure. One pair came in during RTJ’s most recently famous song, did a quick spin on their phone to prove they’d been there while it played, and promptly wandered away. Um…lame.

However, for the most part the crowd was amazing and felt like a third member of the band. Neon floated about, strange post-apocalyptic standards bounced around in the sea of people, and there were even a couple of light sabers. If there were people who didn’t like each other, I never noticed, and not a single person lost their arm.

Droids were welcome in the cantina, as evidenced by a drone show in the sky above the stadium. We’d been told this would be amazing, and while it was a technological marvel, it didn’t do it for me.

What did it for me was RTJ, who were on point the whole night. Dropping best song after best song. When it was over I felt like I’d heard absolutely all the hits, and every deep cut was one of my favourites as well.

In short, it was a killer show, and if you get a chance, you should see them.

Here's a parting shot of me in front of one of the art installations doing my best Dwight Yoakam.

CD Odyssey Disc 1674: Okkervil River

I feel like I got my first good night’s sleep in a week last night. I woke up at 10 a.m., rolled out of bed and took a leisurely shower. Looking out the window the world looked vibrant; full of colour and the promise of adventure. I should get a good night’s sleep more often.

Disc 1674 is…Away

Artist: Okkervil River

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover?  A beautiful piece of cover art. This art features a lot of birds. Maybe even a Hitchcockian number. Travel with care along this shoreline and consider an umbrella.

How I Came To Know It: I was already an avowed fan of Okkervil River when “Away” came out, so this was just me buying the new record and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have nine full-length albums by Okkervil River. Of those, “Away” comes in ninth. Yes, it is last.

Rating: 2 stars

When Okkervil River’s Wil Sheff is at his best his records sound like the echoes of pure longing through an ancient cave complex filled with the wistful shadows of regret. When he is at his worst, he sounds like Eeyore’s favourite radio station. “Away” was more the latter.

I’ll admit I didn’t listen to this record in an environment conducive to its success. Okkervil River is a “sit in your living room” kind of band, and I took it out driving and later for a run. But I’ve done the same with albums more maudlin than this and they succeeded.

“Away” has all the hallmarks of what goes into a good Okkervil River record. It has the ghostly atmosphere, and Sheff’s aching warble is as interesting as ever. Sheff’s vocals are not pitch perfect, but they are incredibly distinctive and built to tell stories.

His stories often run on a bit longer than you might want in a pop song and on “Away” they meander more than usual. Only nine tracks take up almost a full 60 minutes of music, with half the songs clocking in at seven minutes or longer. Many outwore their welcome long before they were over.

Things start off on a relatively positive note. “Okkervil River RIP” has a pretty arrangement, layering a couple of guitars to set the tone and slowly introducing additional elements (bass, drum, and even organ) into a song that grows more complex and beautiful as it advances. The slow climb is one of the things that often draws me to the band.

A lot of the songs that followed had the same layering effect but felt busy – or worse – muddy. When I listen to Okkervil River I always brace myself for this soupy approach to sound, but on “Away” it doesn’t consistently come together. The band is as tight as ever, so that’s not what’s at issue. It is more that the songs themselves meander without a purpose. With Okkervil River you want all that time and musical development to eventually spill out into the sea. A lot of these songs just warble endlessly and leave you wondering what the point of it all was.

There are some high points on the record – just enough to catch my attention in a positive way. “Comes Indiana Through the Smoke” is a beautiful and unexpected melody that isn’t ruined by the fact that Sheff is overly enamoured of the title phrase he’s created. It’s a good song, even if you can hear everyone smiling at their own invention.

But too often you get the moaning notes of “She Would Look For Me” hang-dogging its way through a tune. It doesn’t seem to know where it wants to go, but you can be certain its protagonist will be sighing heavily throughout the journey. It is all very Percy Shelley exclaiming “I fall on the thorns of life. I bleed!” Seriously Percy, tone it down and pull yourself together.

Many years ago I missed a chance to see Okkervil River when they opened for the Decemberists and I still regret not going. “Away” salves that disappointment a little bit by reminding me that these guys can really get their drone on, and that’s not what I look for in my music.

Best tracks: Okkervil River R.I.P., Comes Indiana Through the Smoke, Days Spent Floating (in the Halfbetween)

CD Odyssey Disc 1673: K. Flay

I’m pretty bagged today, and wasn't sure I had a review in me. However, walking back from an appointment I found myself playing my Walkman on random instead of listening to this record. That’s usually a sign it is time to move on to something new on the Odyssey, and so, after a short but powerful nap, I’m going to give the people (that’s you) what you want. A music review.

If you do not want a music review, this is not a great website for you.

Disc 1673 is…Solutions

Artist: K. Flay

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover?  “So I was out last night and had a couple too many and passed out, and now my back is really itchy. I’m just going to life up my shirt – let me know if you see anything.”

“Just your tattoo.”

“That can’t be right – I don’t have a tattoo.”

How I Came To Know It: For the artist, it goes back to 2017, but let’s stick to this album shall we and save that story.

So…earlier this year I undertook a project to “catch up” with various artists that I had in my collection but had lost touch with. I dug through and looked to see if they’d had any albums before or since I first discovered them, and when they did I’d give it a listen. This was one of those.

How It Stacks Up: As a result of the “catching up” project of 2023, I now have three K. Flay records. Another one is being released at the end of next week, but who knows if I’ll like that one enough to buy it? So for now, I have three, and of those I rank “Solutions” at #3.

Rating: 3 stars

K.Flay is a hip hop artist, but there is a lot of room to move in that now-massive genre. On “Solutions” she embraces the pop side of her sound, resulting in a feel-good party time record that is easy to enjoy, and even sneaks a bit of worldly wisdom amid all the dance-friendly fun.

The best example also leads the record off. “I Like Myself (Most of the Time)” is a song about embracing a life that is devoid of perfection. The song feels like the pop friendly version of Bif Naked’s “I Love Myself Today” but more…holistic? Bif compares bad days to good ones to achieve self-affirmation. K. Flay accepts that life’s not binary like that, and real happiness comes from reconciling the good and bad parts of any day together and still being at peace with the person in the mirror. Or as Flay describes it:

“Everybody wants to be the girl
Everybody wants to be extraordinarily beautiful
Everybody wants to rule the world, or the room at least
And assume that they'll be the one with a crowded funeral

“Everybody wants to have the time
Everybody wants to count their calories, and money, and their likes
Baby, my job is just to rhyme, and I'm fine with that
Don't concern myself with all of the lives I might've had”

Well said. A couple songs later, “This Baby Don’t Cry” doubles down on this concept with a bit more recognition of someone coming out of the uncertainty of youth and into an acceptance of womanhood, and all the great things life has to offer if you shed the self-doubt and embrace them.

Like a lot of tunes on this record, “This Baby Don’t Cry” has a great beat (and an even better bass riff). “Solutions” has so many great infectious beats and hooks, it is almost too loaded with pop accessibility. It is easy to feel like it is all empty calories and forget just how fucking hard it is to write a pop hook. K. Flay writes them with practiced ease.

From a “rap” perspective, Flay’s phrasing is brilliant. She can make a song feel conversational and still artfully ride the beat. Compared to the other records in my collection, I don’t think these songs challenge her as much, however, and “Solutions” is more about provided a vibe than it is about showing off a furious flow.

Stylistically the record reminded me favourably of Caroline Rose crossed with the Ting Tings, a very sugar-forward bunch of tunes. The rhymes are predictable, but like any good pop song, the anticipation of knowing where Flay is going is part of the fun.

This record is solid and made me both thankful I’d taken the time to dig a little deeper into K. Flay’s work, and a little chagrined I’d not done it sooner. And just think, gentle reader, two even better records await!

Best tracks: I Like Myself (Most of the Time), This Baby Don’t Cry, Sister, Good News

CD Odyssey Disc 1672: Whitehorse

I’ve made it to a long weekend, and after a lot of travel last weekend (and more travel in my future) I’m looking forward to a few quiet days chilling with some of the people that I love.

Disc 1672 is…Modern Love

Artist: Whitehorse

Year of Release: 2021

What’s up with the Cover?  My best guess is that this is a burned Polaroid? Just behind the burned part you can see a portrait that would have made a perfectly fine album cover, which has been ruined. This cover feels like an inside joke between Luke and Melissa that they should have kept to themselves.

How I Came To Know It: I am a Whitehorse fan, and I was just buying their latest release and hoping for the best. This was one I bought shortly after being told that the local record store was open, which in the midst of the pandemic, was welcome news.

How It Stacks Up: “Modern Love” is neither their best nor their worst. I rank this record at #5 out of my eight Whitehorse albums.

Rating: 3 stars

“Modern Love” is a pandemic album and it sees Whitehorse doing what a lot of us did back in 2021 – finding solace in the familiar.

After 2017’s more experimental “Panther in the Dollhouse”, a few years (and some worldwide anxiety) later sees a record that takes some of those pop-infused lessons but marries them up with a sound more akin to their early work. This consists of a mix of Luke Doucet’s inspired rock guitar, and the country-tinged folk vocals of Melissa McLelland with a fair bit of loose harmony thrown in for good measure. There are some bells and whistles - organ and synth around the edges mostly - but it was great to hear the familiar style of a band I’ve come to know and love well over the years.

After a shaky start, with the trippy sixties styled (but ultimately draggy and boring) “Prototype” the duo go to the top shelf and bring down the good stuff for us. “I Wanna Make Promises (That I Can’t Keep)” is the “real” start of a record that pleasantly surprised me throughout.  

“Promises…” is a song that showcases Whitehorse’s amazing ability to take simple scenes of domestic bliss and turn them into narrative art. Best verse:

Let’s argue in Ikea, make a scene, go home and f___.
On unassembled furniture fresh off the moving truck.
Let’s rifle through old photographs after the basement floods
Black and white and Polaroids on clotheslines up above.”

Could this be what happened to the photo on the cover? By which I mean water damage; the events from the first half of the stanza would at worst result in some creasing damage. In addition to playful and evocative lyrics, this song also has a lovely refrain of the title sung by Melissa McLelland that shows off sweetness in her voice, which is then counterpoised with Doucet’s big echoey guitar work.

“Relic in the New Age” follows that up and shows off the loose harmony stuff I mentioned earlier. As with all Whitehorse music, you can tell McLelland’s vocals could blow Doucet’s off the stage, but she is content to settle in and find a quieter space that makes both of them sound better together. Kind of like that domestic bliss in the previous track now that I think about it.

The record has a couple of weird little musical bits called “Interlude” and “Outro” which are both about as interesting as their titles suggest. This is the kind of fun stuff to do while you’re warming up or sitting around the studio playing with concepts, but it doesn’t belong on the record.

The last “real” song on the record (not including “Outro”) is also a good one. I’m not 100% sure what “Pollyanna” is about, I just know that it fills me with restless yearning, and I like the experience. The message being that if you find yourself not fitting into the life you’re in, then go find the life where you do. A kind-hearted and encouraging anthem for those who see the world a little differently.

“Modern Love” isn’t the first Whitehorse album you should check out, but it is a worthy entry into their catalogue and one I’ll be putting on more often now that the Odyssey’s random selection process reminded me of its existence.

Best tracks: I Wanna Make Promises (That I Can’t Keep), Relic in the New Age, Best Bet, Pollyanna