CD Odyssey Disc 1970: Paul Kelly and the Messengers

Happy Halloween, and welcome back to the CD Odyssey! Before our review I will share four of my favourite albums from the year corresponding with the review number – 1970!

• Black Sabbath x2, “Self-Titled” (Disc 105) and “Paranoid” (Disc 194)
• Simon and Garfunkel, “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” (Disc 351)
• Allman Brothers, “Idlewild South” (Disc 940)

I’m falling behind in my listening to new albums right now, as my wallet is turning out to work faster than my ears. This next album is one of the reasons why – an impulse buy that led me to several more of the same.

Disc 1970 is…Comedy

Artist: Paul Kelly and the Messengers

Year of Release: 1991

What’s up with the Cover? A dingy comedy club awaits its next hopeful fool. The time lapsed photography blurs some of the patrons and lends an air of listlessness. Every night in this place is the same –uneven performers and tired jokes.

On the plus side, cheap drinks and no cover!

How I Came To Know It: My friend Casey introduced me to Paul Kelly when he bought me Kelly’s 1989 album “So Much Water, So Close to Home” for my birthday one year (thanks, Casey!). Years later I saw “Comedy” and a couple other albums sitting in the local record store at discount prices. I took a chance on all three and here we are.

How It Stacks Up: Paul Kelly has an impressive 28 studio albums across his career, but I only have four of them. Of those four, I put “Comedy” in at #1.

Ratings: 4 stars

Going for a double album is a delicate decision. For every “London Calling” and “The Wall” out there, there is another double record in desperate need of a trim. Paul Kelly’s “Comedy” lands somewhere in the middle. Could I have cut a few tracks and squeezed it into a single LP? Probably, yes, but the quality of the songs would have made the task difficult. So while I initially chafed at the length of this record, I still found myself sinking into a lot of timeless gems from one of Australia’s finest singer-songwriters.

In 1991 Paul Kelly was walking that folk/rock line that would later morph into what the kids now call “Indie” but back in the day we called it “College Rock”. Terms change, but this particular mix of lyric-forward delivery and jangly guitar will be well familiar to any fans of R.E.M., Uncle Tupelo and countless other bands doing similar stuff across the Pacific and International Date Line. Slap a helping of the Pogues in there, and you’ll have the idea.

If you like that jangly, sometimes dark approach to storytelling, then this record will not disappoint. Yes, the sound and production is a bit light on the low end, but its by design, not accident, and once you settle in and acclimate you can appreciate how that slightly diffuse sound brings exactly the kind of uncertainty that these songs need to help you think deep thoughts.

The album opens with “Don’t Start Me Talking” which for an album called “Comedy” is a pretty good (if unintended) inside joke. The song isn’t about the fact that a double album and 17 more songs await you, but it was hard not to feel Paul was winking at me.

Kelly is a masterful songwriter, and he knows how to take a small event or image and blossom it into a broader theme that explores the complicated trials of the human heart.

“Wintercoat” is a fine example, which in just three and a half minutes walks us through the start of a relationship, its collapse and the stark cold that you’re left with. Our narrator clutches his coat about him against the winter air, but the song leaves an unstated certainty that the chill is coming from within, and the coat’s value is in its memory, not its warmth.

“Leaving Her for the Last Time” is a good example of a song where just the refrain can tell you more than the narrator is willing to say out loud. Anyone who is leaving their problematic relationship “for the last time” already has an established track record of not following through.

Kelly is a master of language to match his musical themes. “I Won’t Be Your Dog Anymore” is full of minor key menace, and a plaintive chorus that cries defiance. The lyrics are some of the best on the record and match the tone. A couple of great snippets:

“I’ve been drinking muddy water
And it tastes like turpentine
I’ve been leaving muddy footprints
Up and down the Morgan line”

And later…

“Now the mangrove sun is sinking
And the moon is bloody red
Every gun is clean and loaded
Lying by a feather bed”

That is some dark and brilliant shit.

At the end of our epic journey, Kelly returns to his comedy theme with, “Little Boy Don’t Lose Your Balls”. It’s a funny time and a good image to giggle to, but like “Don’t Start Me Talking” it isn’t just for laughs, as Kelly works in deeper messages. On “Don’t Start Me Talking” Kelly warns that if you invite him to share his deepest thoughts he’ll do just that, and the record that unfolds explores individual tragedy, as well as social justice themes, inequity and a host of complex human emotion.

“Little Boy Don’t Lose Your Balls” bookends our journey through comedy that’s not. It’s a reminder that wealth and recognition don’t mean a thing if you lose your integrity along the way. Wise words to live by.

Could this record shave four or five of its 18 songs and be slightly better? Absolutely, but even with the bloat it is still one of Paul Kelly’s best.

Best tracks: Don’t Start Me Talking, Wintercoat, Leaving Her For the Last Time, I Won’t Be Your Dog Anymore, Take Your Time, Sydney from a 727,  Little Boy Don’t Lose Your Balls

CD Odyssey Disc 1969: Lana Del Rey

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. As we’ll be doing for the next 50 or so reviews, here’s a few records I recommend from the year corresponding to the review number.

• Townes Van Zandt, “Our Mother the Mountain” (Disc 236)
• The Beatles, “Abbey Road (Disc 441)
• Leonard Cohen, “Songs from a Room” (Disc 536)

On to a record that I missed upon its release eleven years ago, much to my chagrin now…

Disc 1969 is…Honeymoon

Artist: Lana Del Rey

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? If this is a honeymoon it looks like Lana is out on her own for this part of it. Maybe her partner wasn’t keen on taking the StarLine Cruise and slept in, or maybe they decided to take in a baseball game.

This may sound bad, but I’ve been happily married for a very long time, and there’s nothing wrong with a short stint at different events – gives you something to talk about when you meet up later.

How I Came To Know It: I came late to Lana Del Rey, not giving her more than a passing thought until around 2021. Since then I’ve been devouring her new records and going into her back catalogue with equal zeal. “Honeymoon” was the latter experience.

How It Stacks Up: I have six of Lana Del Rey’s nine studio albums. I don’t know them well enough to definitively rank them, but I was pretty damned impressed with “Honeymoon” and I’m placing it second.

Ratings: 4 stars

Lana Del Rey has a haunting voice that is like sunshine on a cold day, and on “Honeymoon” she pairs her instrument with a set of immersive, moody pop songs that cast a spell that gets more intense on each listen. It left me shaking my head at myself that I’d taken so long to come around to her sound.

Part of this slow seduction is the nature of Del Rey’s music. She sings in a high head voice that creates an otherworldly pop-Goth, drawing you siren-like to her music. These songs aren’t immediate bangers. There’s nary a guitar riff, not even a strum, and the result is a kind of background hum that doesn’t immediately draw your notice. You need to settle down and properly listen before this record will properly reach down inside of you.

Once you’re there, you can appreciate the ghostly, eerily sensual quality of the record. These sequences are like an art film romance, sexy and disconcerting at the same time. If you like your pop music mysterious and a little dangerous, then “Honeymoon” will suit you well.

The title track leads the record off with a starkly beautiful couple of bars of violin – or maybe a synthesizer mimicking a violin. It is hard to tell, and that straddling of the artificial and the deeply emotional is what gives “Honeymoon” a portion of its magic. The song is almost six minutes long, unfurling at a languorous pace, but by the time it is in full flight you’re sorry it has to end so soon.

Like a lot of the songs on the record, the unnamed object of Del Rey’s affections is dangerous, distant and hard to understand. Del Rey paints this dark character with splashes of imagery, tinted by the narrator’s ardor. Best lines:

“There are violets in your eyes
There are guns that blaze around you
There are roses in between my thighs
And fire that surrounds you”

Sexy stuff. Del Rey doubles down on this dangerous desire vibe throughout the record, following up the opener with the sultry sway of “Music to Watch Boys To” another crooner that shows off Del Rey’s high head voice as she sings a call and response of “I like you a lot” and “so I do what you want” leaving you the listener to wonder just what sacrifices are being made in the name of desire. And on it carries through the record, spinning you inward into the depths of human longing.

Later on the record, relationships sour. Tracks like “High by the Beach” are just as deeply introspective, but now they are about creating some distance from destructive influences. The song’s refrain seems to suggest that sometimes you don’t need to get out of your head, so much as you need to get deeper inside of it.

The final track of the record is a cover of the Animals’/Nina Simone’s “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood.” Del Rey does a fine job of it and given all the edgy characters she’s inhabited through the record, it feels a bit on the nose, and not necessary after all the high-quality originals. It’s good but there’s knowing nod to the listener that isn’t necessary. The record operates better in an air of mystery.

However, this is a minor quibble, and by the time you get to this point of the record you are well and truly under Del Rey’s spell. Maybe you need a bit of a landmark pop cover to come back from it, even, and in this regard even its somewhat awkward inclusion serves a purpose.

Best tracks: Honeymoon, Music to Watch Boys To, God Knows I Tried, High By the Beach, Freak, Art Deco, Salvatore

CD Odyssey Disc 1968: Orange Goblin

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. As we’ll be doing for the next 50 or so reviews, here’s a few records I recommend from the year corresponding to the review number.

• The Rolling Stones, “Beggar’s Banquet” (Disc 381)
• The Beatles, “The White Album” (Disc 593)
• The Byrds, “Sweethearts of the Rodeo” (Disc 1021)

Not exactly a very surprising list, and overall 1968 does not look to be shaping up as my favourite year in music.

And now…goblins!

Disc 1968 is…Frequencies from Planet Ten

Artist: Orange Goblin

Year of Release: 1997

What’s up with the Cover? There is a LOT going on with this cover. We have landed on an alien planet just in time to see a musical meet up. A giant intergalactic amp and speaker stacks are pumping out tunes to all the groovy guests.

The dude with the hookah may even be producing some sonic creations of his own with all those shoulder pipes. The cone-headed green dude has a squeeze box of sorts, if a squeeze box was a disembodied mouth that shrieked when you squeezed it.

As for the moon, he is the only one who appears distressed at the whole affair. Maybe he’s already had some noise complaints from the other planets, or maybe he’s just afraid of music. I admit I am also a little afraid of music that features a screaming mouth being squeezed by a disembodied hand.

That said I’ve got pretty varied tastes and would be willing to give it a go.

How I Came To Know It: I was introduced to Orange Goblin by my friend Chris, who played a record of theirs one day during a barbecue. It isn’t your usual fare for a barbecue, but it worked.

This particular album is part of a 2002 rerelease of Orange Goblin’s first two records (the other being 1998’s “Time Travelling Blues”) that I found used at the local record store and snapped up on the cheap.

How It Stacks Up: Orange Goblin has 10 studio albums, but I only have four. Of those four, I put “Frequencies from Planet Ten” at #2.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Frequencies from Planet Ten” is Orange Goblin’s first record, so it can be forgiven for wearing its inspirations on its sleeves. Fortunately, those influences are honoured and blended, not simply imitated. The result is a record that at different times can feel from a previous time and also strangely current, often alternating between these sentiments within a single song.

Orange Goblin is for the most part a psychedelic metal band, prone to groove-driven guitar riffs suitable for watching a pack of Harley Davidson’s drive by. They also liberally mix in garage rock and even a soupcon of KISS in the vocal delivery of lead singer Ben Ward.

Ward’s raspy tones are more Lemmy than Simmons/Stanley but the phrasing of the songs have a KISS groove to them in places that the more punk-flavoured Motorhead doesn’t explore.

I found the sound initially a bit too full and busy, but Orange Goblin is like a very hot bath – you’ve got to immerse yourself for a while before you decide if you like it. The longer I listened the more I started to pull the intricacies of time signatures, and internal melodic shifts.

When they do these well they hearken to greats like Black Sabbath; chugging riffs that made me want to swing what’s left of my hair in a mosh-fueled fury. Those riffs tend to sit forward in the pocket creating that urgent lean that had me thinking earlier of fat-bodied choppers and growling sword pipes.

There were also many occasions where they descended into a more experimental thrashing about. Sometimes these worked (and reminded me favourably of Deep Purple) and other times they got a bit too impressed with themselves (and reminded me of Cream).

You read that right, dear reader: I admire Cream’s contributions to hard rock, but I don’t like listening to an album full of it.

But I digress…

The band does a bit of all of this stuff – the groove, the psych, and the weird – on “Saruman’s Wish”, which is one of my favourites almost despite itself. You can enjoy this record just for the many different musical movements it explores across a little over six minutes, but the lyrics are also solid. They explore Saruman the White’s descent into madness (presumably with all that Palantir-staring he’s been getting up to). He sees a world lost, with the only escape to selfishly seize what power he can.

Later the band will do a short instrumental tune capturing the mysterious beauty of the forest of Lothlorien (which they misspell “Lothlorian”). It is a lovely palate cleanser halfway through the record’s otherwise furious pace.

Lord of the Rings fans, that bit was for you. IYKYK.

I actually found the back half of the record stronger than the front, but that could be because on each listen it took a while to sink in.

“Orange Goblin” (the song) is the crunchies track on the record, which is saying something. This is fist-pumping thump at its best. A lot of the lyrics on this record are overwrought and ridiculous, but it works well when paired with the bombastic beats and riffs on a song like “Orange Goblin”.

There are two bonus tracks on this re-issue, which are basically adding a two-song EP onto the back end. I don’t usually like when a band adds bonus tracks onto the same disc, but this EP is only two tracks (“Nuclear Guru” and a cover of “Hand of Doom”) also released in 1997, and is a good stylistic fit.

As for the cover of “Hand of Doom” it doesn’t add a lot to the Sabbath original other than 90 seconds of playing time, but it is well-played and any day I get a chance to hear “Hand of Doom” is a good day.

Overall, this record is very solid debut. There are places where they stray a bit too close to the edge of imitation (one track has Ward calling out a very Ozzie-like off-the-beat, “all right now!” which I thought unnecessary) but they are rare moments that I forgive as part of the recklessness of youth. For the most part this is a band exploring myriad off hard rock traditions and forging their own space in the process.

Best tracks: The Astral Project, Saruman’s Wish, Lothlorian (sic), Orange Goblin, Star Shaped Cloud

CD Odyssey Disc 1966: Ozzy Osbourne

I’ve decided to try something new where before I do the review of the day, where I list a few (no more than five) of my favourite records from a year with same number as what review I am on. Obviously once we are “in the future” this will cease, but it’ll be fun for a while.

So, without further ado, here are two great records from 1966:

·       Bob Dylan, “Blonde on Blonde” reviewed at Disc 306

·         Simon & Garfunkel, “Sounds of Silence” Disc 239 – where I wrongly labelled it’s release year as 1965 (in my defence it was January, 1966).

I also really dig the Supremes – “Supreme A’ Go-Go” but I don’t own it yet. That is going to change very soon.

“Wait a minute”, you may be saying, “did he just exclude both "Pet Sounds" and "Revolved"? Yeah, I did. I like both those records just fine, but these are some of my favourite albums from 1966, not someone else’s…

Disc 1966 is…No More Tears

Artist: Ozzy Osbourne

Year of Release: 1991

What’s up with the Cover? Ozzy, having doffed his shirt, is looking angsty and withdrawn. This is in contrast to early Ozzy covers that have him in full cosplay looking like a crazed maniac.

This may seem an odd departure, but don’t judge Ozzy. Every band not still in the denial of hair metal’s death spiral at this time was trading in for tarp-less angst.

Frankly, I think Ozzy wears it better than most. He’s even sprouting a small angel wing on his back, which would have made wearing a shirt itchy.

How I Came To Know It: This is yet another of my Ross records, obtained from my buddy Ross when he divested his CD collection. This is the seventh review of that bunch so far. Thanks, Ross!

How It Stacks Up: I currently have four Ozzy records (two via Ross, and two via my own devices). I don’t know any of them well enough yet, but I am confident “No More Tears” at least good enough to be third, and maybe even second. For now I’ll put it in third. Maybe it’ll finish second, but that’s the disadvantage of skating first…

Ratings:4 stars

Great artists tend to have later career classic records, and “No More Tears” is one of those for Ozzy Osbourne. More than a decade after he launched his solo career with the brilliant “Blizzard of Ozz” Ozzy returns with a record that is a bit more polished than what fans might expect but showcasing some of his strongest work.

While the record leans a bit more into hard rock ballads than pure metal, there’s no denying its edge, with Ozzy always willing to lean into the darker side of the human experience.

This is never truer than on the opening track, “Mr. Tinkertrain” a song told from the perspective of a child abuser, who has given himself the clownish alter ego of Mr. Tinkertrain, under which he hurts kids. Ozzy sings about madmen and werewolves without a second thought, but the deep dive into the terrifying and horrible Mr. Tinkertrain is as dark as he gets. It is genuinely creepy.

The record features two timeless earworms that would help define the decade for those with an ear for metal. The first of these is “Mama I’m Coming Home”, fueled by the inspired picking of guitarist Zakk Wylde. Wylde’s work here is like a pastoral folk song in places, then switching to pure metal magic in the inspired solo that – like all good solos - relies more on tone than speed.

“Mama, I’m Coming Home” has some of Ozzy’s best work as a vocalist as well, as he does what Ozzy always does – turns his performance deeply inward to his most vulnerable, and then lets that vulnerability blossom out to his audience. The ability to share the unseen storms in the depth of the human heart is a true art, and few do it as well as Ozzy.

The other big hit was “No More Tears” which is another metal classic. It has an odd bit of synth production at the front end that are very much a product of the time, but “No More Tears” makes that fuzzy production a feature not a bug. The song is a long one at 7:23 in playing time, but you never get bored.

While those are the radio hits (I assume) the whole record is great, and on successive listens I enjoyed this record more and more. In addition to freaking us out with “Mr. Tinkertrain” and making us feel the feels with “Mama…” Ozzy throws in a bunch of songs that are ground zero for metal conversation.

“Hellraiser” is a song about being on the road and rocking out. It’s simple message: “come to my concert, and I will blow you away”. “I Don’t Want to Change the World” is classic metal rebellion. A “screw you” for all those critics saying Ozzy is bad for your kids. Best lines:

“Tell me I'm a sinner, I've got news for you
I spoke to God this morning and he don't like you
You're telling all the people the original sin
He says, he knows you better than you'll ever know him”

“Zombie Stomp” is a weird Side Two offering that took me a while to love. It takes forever to get going and feels like more of an exploration of beat and rhythm than a full song. In the end it never became a favourite, but I started to appreciate it for what it was. Could the record (which approaches a full hour in length) live without the six-minute stretch of “Zombie Stomp”? Yeah, it could, but it is more weird and out of place than objectively bad.

The final track, “Road to Nowhere,” is a perfect summary of Ozzy’s ability to pull you in with deeply personal compositions. Here Ozzy is feeling a bit of regret across past years. He doesn’t wallow in mistakes once made, but he acknowledges them in a way that feels sincere and thoughtfully explored.

“The wreckage of my past keeps haunting me
It just won't leave me alone
I still find it all a mystery
Could it be a dream?
The road to nowhere leads to me”

Ozzy isn’t saying he’d change anything in this song, he’s just recognizing that he got here on his own. By internalizing his own road to nowhere, and sharing it with the audience, he invites us all to a little introspection.

Purists might say that some of these songs are too soft around the edges for an Ozzy record. I might have said the same in 1991 when it came out and was not yet a converted Ozzy fan. But those people (including me) were completely overlooking just how consistently ballsy Wylde’s guitar work is on this record. We were also overlooking that at their core these are just well-constructed songs, that would be bangers in any genre.

I’m so glad that through my friend Ross I had a chance to reacquaint myself with this record 25 years later and both recognize my initial error, and this record’s greatness.

Best tracks: I Don’t Want to Change the World, Mama I’m Coming Home, No More Tears, S.I.N., Hellraiser, Time After Time, Road to Nowhere

CD Odyssey Disc 1961: India Ramey

This next album is going to be a contender for my Top 10 albums of the year list. I won’t decide that until all the listens are in, but it’ll definitely be in the conversation.

Disc 1961 is…Villain Era

Artist: India Ramey

Year of Release: 2026

What’s up with the Cover? Old school cover, old school country and western, and India Ramey herself, looking as confident and self-possessed as a burgeoning talent should.

How I Came To Know It: I read a review on a music review site called Americana Highways and decided to give it a listen. Then I hit her up on Bandcamp. Every song I heard I liked more and more, and here we are.

How It Stacks Up: India Ramey has six albums but so far I only own “Villain Era”. I feel this is going to change soon but until it does, there is no stacking up to be had.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

It seems like every year we lose another icon of the golden age of country music (miss you already, Dolly) and our western heroes have been gone even longer (RIP Tex Ritter, 1974; Marty Robbins, 1982). But readers, I’m here to tell you there is still cause for hope – and the name of that hope is India Ramey.

On “Villain Era” singer-songwriter Ramey has accomplished greatness in both genres – country and western – and found a way to take traditional structures in both genres and bring them into the 21^st century with panache, power and a dollop of dark humour.

Ramey’s liner notes indicate she wanted this record to sound like “Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn had risen from the grave to score a Quentin Tarantino film”. A lofty goal with some name-dropping hubris but damn it if she doesn’t land it exactly as planned.

It starts with skillful songwriting, that matches up traditional country and western structures with clever and evocative lyrics.

The record’s opener, “We Ride at Dawn” is a classic dark western. In under three and a half minutes Ramey lays out a tale of rape, murder and revenge as a group of women survivors ride out to exact frontier justice on the gang that destroyed their community and left them for dead. It’s dark and powerful, with haunting pedal steel and a galloping beat that matches the horses of the avenging angels that tell the tale. It’s tough and tragic and resonates with the thunder of horse’s hooves and the anticipation of the gun smoke to come. As openers go, you can’t do better.

As I noted, Ramey does both western and country, and it isn’t long until we get a country classic in “Scattered and Smothered” (the title of which is an homage to her old cover band of the same name). The darkness of “We Ride at Dawn” is replaced with a whimsical mid-tempo gallop. The entirety of this record features more clever turns of phrase than you can shake a six-gun at, but “Scattered and Smothered” may be my favourite of all, with an opening stanza of:

“Well it's 2 a.m. and I'm waffling
I've been somewhere I ain't supposed to been
And I'm looking like Alice Cooper
In a little black dress
Well I'm hot mess, I must confess
Ever since he brought up taking next steps
And my drunk ass needs
Some hash browns and scrambled eggs”

Ramey sings it all with a playful southern drawl and a gift for phrasing that is reminiscent of early Dolly Parton, minus the sweetness.

Ramey can also belt it out, as she does on “Six Feet Under” where she shows big lungs, peeling out rich notes that fill out every corner of the room.

“Six Feet Under” is one of many songs that feature imagery of graves and death. This is Gothic country at its best since Johnny Cash rumbled on about a long black veil. Other fine examples on “Villain Era” include “Dead to Me” and “Ghost Town”. The latter is a song that bemoans the loss of the classic country sound in favour of the polished pop version that now sadly dominates Nashville.

Ramey is also funny where the situation calls for it – notably on “Cult Money” about the snake oil salesmanship of false religion. Something that is made possible – as Ramey notes in the refrain – because “people’ll pay a whole lotta money/to stay outta hell.”

The musicianship on “Villain Era” is also top notch, with Ramey assembling a group of players that are up to the task of songs that require heavily on pinpoint timing and just the right amount of jump. I was pleased to note the appearance of Chris Masterson and Eleanor Whitmore, bringing back fond memories of their work as country duo, The Mastersons.

The worst thing about “Villain Era” was finding out it was Ramey’s sixth record, meaning I have been living for years without her music, and didn’t have to. Consider that sad era at an end and sign me up for the Cult of Ramey. I won’t pay any money to stay outta hell, but I’ll happily spend for records like “Villain Era”.

Best tracks: We Ride at Dawn, Scattered and Smothered, Six Feet Under, Nobody’s Coming, Cult Money, Ghost Town

CD Odyssey Disc 1959: Einherjer

It seems like every time I roll a record by this next band fate has me taking a long drive. Last time it was “Norron” reviewed back in June when I went to Sidney to go shopping and this time once again out to Sidney, but this time to the airport. Maybe listening to Viking metal dares the universe to send you on a journey, although neither of mine involved sailing in a longship or looting a monastery.

Disc 1959 is…Dragons of the North XX

Artist: Einherjer

Year of Release: 2016 (remake of the 1996 record “Dragons of the North”)

What’s up with the Cover? A depiction of a carved figurehead, presumably on the front of a Viking longship because, well, that’s where they go.

Why did Vikings adorn the front of their ships with these carvings? Presumably because they are scary and to show they meant business.

How I Came To Know It: This is part of the “Ross Records” collection that I got from my buddy Ross when he left CD technology behind. I secured a whole bunch of Einherjer records at the time. Thanks, Ross!

How It Stacks Up: I have four Einherjer albums, and I like them all. I think “Dragons of the North XX” is my favourite, but then I don’t own the original “Dragons of the North” from 1996 and it is pretty great.

Ratings: 4 stars

I don’t know what possessed Einjerjer to re-record their entire 1996 classic folk/Viking metal album “Dragons of the North” twenty years later. I suppose if you make such a classic record in the genre there’s no harm in making it twice. As for me, I like this record plenty – both times in fact.

The two biggest differences you will encounter is the XX version leans a bit further into metal and away from folk than its predecessor and the vocals of Rune Bjelland and Audun Wold are replaced by guitarist and singer Frode Glesnes. I’m not sure who I prefer better, but Frode is the voice I know on all my other Einherjer records and I like the sound of him.

Glesnes will not blow the doors off any singing contest, but he delivers the melodic rasp and a sinister tone that these songs require. The lyrics – which are almost universally about groups of Vikings killing and plundering about the place, or the perspective of an individual Viking doing the same thing.

The title track leads us off with a folksy guitar riff and the heavy thump of long-time drummer Gerhard Storesund (aka Ulvar) setting the stage. The song is notably heavier and crunchier than the 1996 version, with the ominous pounding of Storesund’s reminding me favourably of Black Sabbath’s Bill Ward. The song has a pulse to it that makes you feel the pull of the oars of a Viking longship as it climbs its way up a river in search of the aforenoted killing and plundering.

The album’s other standout is “Forever Empire” which has the same dread-filled heaviness to it, offset by the record’s best guitar solos. While a few of the lesser solos on “Dragons…” feel uninspired, there are more than a few that pull you in with both tone and construction. They also provide a good foil to the drum-heavy groove. The combo is like the flashes of sword and human struggle that punctuate the moment when the rowing stops and the fighting starts.

Lyrically the stories aren’t always clear, but there is a common thread of mania to the characters Frode gives voice to. These characters are warlord conquerors; an occupation that doesn’t lend itself to humility and circumspection. I have a friend who likes to remind me that with their “if you die while fighting you go to Valhalla” mythology Vikings were essentially a death cult, and Einherjer – a band that is literally named after those dead warriors feasting in Odin’s hall – double down on the mindset that would create.

The result is music that transports you to the nexus of menace, dread, and glory, which is entirely appropriate to the subject matter. Listening to “Dragons of the North XX” is a modern sonic experience that interprets the manic exhilaration of the raiders, and by extension I also found myself contemplating the terror of seeing these raiders inexorably advancing up a river to your town.

Capturing both those experiences across a thousand years of history on a modern heavy metal record is an impressive feat. Making that same record resonate essentially twice twenty years apart even more so.

Best tracks: Dragons of the North, Forever Empire, Slaget Ved Hafrsfjord

CD Odyssey Disc 1958: Katy Kirby

Blue Raspberry is one of my favourite “drink” flavours but I always feel that raspberry gets short-changed on the use of red, which is reserved for strawberry (light red) and cherry (dark red). This record has very little to do with drink flavours, but I just had to get that off my chest.

Disc 1958 is…Blue Raspberry

Artist: Katy Kirby

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? Katy (assuming the brunette is Katy) and another person engage in some sort of embrace. Maybe they’re wrestling, maybe Katy is rescuing them from drowning or maybe it is a more amorous adventure. Whether it is sport, a rescue or sex, based on the sun-dappled water it looks like the weather is cooperating. Way easier to do all those things when the waves aren’t too big.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan of Kirby having encountered her through her 2021 debut, “Cool Dry Place” (reviewed back at Disc 1726). When I saw she had a new album out a couple of years ago I checked it out and liked what I heard.

How It Stacks Up: Kirby only has two full length records, and if you’re following along you’ll know that I have both of them. Of the two I enjoyed “Blue Raspberry” slightly more, so it is…#1.

Ratings: 4 stars

Katy Kirby has a languid style to her brand of indie pop that leaves you feeling relaxed and ready to see the world in a fresh and unhurried way. This is a record to both relax you musically, while throwing in just enough unexpected imagery that your mind is active and searching for the next line. Also, it’s very sexy.

Kirby’s high sweet vocals shows a lot of range in songs that are all sweet and introspective, but surprisingly variable in how they approach a melody. This record keeps your groove engaged throughout,

The opening track, “Redemption Arc” is even a bit off-brand, sung in her lower register, with a lurching minor key lilt that had me favourably comparing the approach to “Bachelor No. 2” era Aimee Mann. Unlike early Mann, Kirby is a bit more romantic than fatalist, and “Redemption Arc” is an apology song that is more focused on the comfort of making up than the apology itself. You get the sense that all is forgiven without any words spoken, but the words are welcomed all the same.

The record launches into Kirby’s more familiar high head voice on “Cubic Zirconia” which also oozes with a relaxed romanticism that permeates the record. Not content to rely on the record’s catchiest melody and a delightful birdsong phrasing, Kirby throws in some top-tier imagery. Best stanza:

“Face framed by hoodie like an oyster in a shell
And your eyes are rolling at me as a pair of angry pearls
You're the prettiest mermaid in the souvenir shop
But if you're coming home this late
You know you'd better be drunk”

Not something typically wished for, but there is a strong current of sexy that flows through this record that makes even a drunken homecoming feel like a fairy tale. Readers please note: this outcome is rarely the case and only works for the absolutely prettiest mermaids. If you're a merman, just forget about it entirely. Take off your shoes quietly in the hall and sleep on the couch.

But I digress.

“Wait Listen” has a song construction that is reminiscent of Leonard Cohen, both in terms of how the song builds the story as well as the mix of the tender and the bawdy poetry of a memorable hook up.

That ribbon of lyrical sexuality twists like a ribbon through the entirety of “Blue Raspberry” taking a record that could fall into its own introspection and instead making each song a sensual confession.

Kirby re-examines imagery used in earlier songs throughout the record, trying concepts out from different angles like the facets of the fake diamonds she references early on. She will return to the image of the cubic zirconia on “Salt Crystal” along with pearls (now in the mouth not the eyes), and the erotic nature of a well-placed bite (earlier featured in the amorous adventures of “Wait Listen”). Then, as your mind skips along with the sweetness of the melody, Kirby pulls it all together in a golden hour moment with:

“The rhinestones on your baseball cap reminding me of when
The salt left crystal on the sunset of your sunburned skin”

The best part of it all is that with its slow and relaxed style, this clever construction of image upon image slips into your mind slowly, like a cool summer breeze through an open window – invisible but alive on your skin.

Some albums hit you hard and early, but “Blue Raspberry” is a slow build that steals inside of you with a quiet beauty. It might take a few listens to catch everything that’s going on, but it’s worth the effort.

Best tracks: Redemption Arc, Cubic Zirconia, Wait Listen, Salt Crystal

CD Odyssey Disc 1955: Mozart

Welcome back. Today we dive once again into a genre I know very little about, which is a bit surprising how long both it (and I) have been around. At least for once I’m younger than the composition I’m writing about.

Disc 1955 is…Requiem

Artist: Mozart but also some other bloke named Sussmayr

Year of Release: 1791 (recording is from 1989)

What’s up with the Cover? This cover could be metal as easily as Mozart, with a dope-as-fuck skeleton rocking a shroud. It’s got hands on chest like it plans to sing along to the tune, but without any lungs that’s not going to go well for him/her.

I expect this photo is in some church somewhere (maybe All Saints Church in Newcastle-on-Tyne, where this album is recorded) but I couldn’t find definitive proof of that.

We also learn from the cover that this bit of Mozart magic is coming to you from Northern Sinfonia, which sounds like the name of some magical kingdom in a fantasy novel but is, in fact, a symphony in England.

How I Came To Know It: I found this album in a thrift store in Sidney. Classical treasures on the cheap – yeehaw!

How It Stacks Up: I have five Mozart albums. Well, actually only four – I got rid of the Coronation Mass after I reviewed it back at Disc 736 but it got reviewed, so it gets stacked. Anyway, of those five, I put “Requiem” in at…#4.

Technically, this isn’t 100% Mozart, since his widow had it finished with the help of some dude named Franz Xaver Sussmayr after Mozart died. Sussmayr, I have since learned, was a bit of a thing back in his day but in 2026 not so much. Wikipedia quotes some 19^th century dude named Max Dies who says Sussmayr is “smooth, pleasing, singable, but generally fashionably superficial,” which throws some shade, but frankly sounds kind of alright.

But I digress.

Ratings: 4 stars

Ever want to feel like something very important is happening, but do it safely seated in your living room or car? Mozart’s “Requiem” has what you need. For a song that is supposed to be a mass for the dead, this little ditty from the late 18^th century is quite lively.

Being a mass there’s a bunch of choral singing, delivered delightfully by the aforementioned North Sinfonians. The lead soprano is Yvonne Kenny and while the overall recording of this record suffers from the low-end loss of many of the CDs manufactured in the late eighties, her powerful tone cuts through all attempts at diminishment.

As I noted in the lede, this record swells with import and bombast. It’s practically a Carmina Burana minus the gallop. It is best played loud and then – when you realize the quieter parts are getting lost in the thrum of the car engine – louder still.

Across 46 minutes of playing time (classical music fits rather perfectly on a standard record, which I doubt is coincidence), Mozart finds ways to bring the melodic structure of the piece to a climax multiple times, all the while never making it feel repetitious.

Kenny’s vocals slice through the top of the tune like a cavalry saber (again, minus the gallop), and down in the low end there is a grounding bass (a guy named Gwynne Howell) if that’s what floats your boat (or ballasts it). Cursory research reveals both these folks are a bit of a big deal in the opera world (Kenny moreso), but despite some honest effort, I’m not a fan of opera, so they’re new to me. Anyway, they sound great as does the whole chorus and orchestra.

In terms of the lyrics, you’d think a requiem for the dead would be a somber and majestic sort of affair, but once you translate the Latin you’re in for shock, as Mozart goes for a fire and brimstone approach that would be equally at home on a heavy metal record.

That’s right, my friends, in the late 18^th century a mass for the dead was an opportunity to remind listeners that HELL awaits any miserable unbeliever. We’ve got God sitting in judgment:

“Then the judge seats himself and tries;
No shifting from his all-seeing eyes
Nor ‘scaping then. Who e’er deserves it dies.”

Rather disconcerting. Later our narrator cries out to the “Dread King” for clemency (you can see why) and later still appeals for Christ to save the souls of the “faithfully departed from the hand of hell, and from the deep pit.”

The language of the piece is beautiful and while harsh and threatening at the front end, takes on a repentant and merciful tone as it unfolds. Also, it would make a great music video. Someone should do that.

But I digress.

The whole of “Requiem” is sung in Latin, but even without a translation, the piece has a rousing and metaphysical quality that appeals to something beyond the earthly. You will feel wrapped in the arms of both Death and that angels at the same time, which I am pretty sure what Mozart was going for.

On that note, there is a reason that even 235 years later certain composers are still part of our daily lives, musical soundtracks and (this week at least) commutes to work. It’s because they’re damned good at what they do. Even with the late intervention of an allegedly fashionably superficial composer, “Requiem” shows once again why Mozart endures.

Best tracks: Um…it may be divided into 12 tracks on the CD but this is one song. That’s how they did it back in the day…

CD Odyssey Disc 1951: Finsterforst

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

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

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

Disc 1951 is…Rastlos

Artist: Finsterforst

Year of Release: 2012

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

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

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

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

Ratings: 4 stars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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