CD Odyssey Disc 1953: The Brothers Comatose

A friend remarked to me last night that I tend to review a lot of obscure albums. That may be true, but I’ve got nothing against mainstream artists and have many in my collection. On the other hand, my tastes are wide and varied, and the fickle dice I roll to determine what I’ll explore next care not for the considerations of fame nor notoriety.

Today, the dice gods have decided to stick with the obscure.

Disc 1953 is…Turning Up the Ground

Artist: The Brothers Comatose

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a funky graphic that – like the album title – explores two kinds of ground, one musical and one agricultural.

I like some of the specific choices depicted here. Snail shell or moth? Banjo case full of mushrooms or guitar case full of flowers?

Best of all, you can choose between a shovel with a vine wrapped around it or a shovel with a snake wrapped around it? On first blush, I think vine-over-snake is the obvious and safer bet, but if you’re shoveling snow out of a driveway, you’re really going to need the flat blade on that snake shovel. Just, you know, wear thick gloves.

How I Came To Know It: Another album I found through an album review.

How It Stacks Up: I went on to explore the Brothers Comatose’s discography (they have seven albums) but so far this is the only one that’s landed in my collection, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

After a few days with prog rock band Moon Tooth my ear was ready for something free and easy, and the Dice Gods obliged with the folk/bluegrass stylings of the Brothers Comatose.

If you are expecting creative time signatures and outré chord progressions I would refer you back to Moon Tooth (or better still, just listen to Rush or Tool) but if you enjoy songs you can slap your knee to and harmonies that you can sing along to in confidence after the first couple of verses, this is the band for you.

For some, this simple approach to music might be misinterpreted as meaning the band isn’t good, but nothing could be farther from the truth. The simpler the arrangements to a song, the more important it is the band plays with coordinated skill. That alchemy of quiet individual confidence, and a constant ear to where your bandmates are sitting in the pocket, is what separates good bands from mediocre ones.

On this front, the Brothers Comatose have their artistry down pat. Their songs have a softness to them that relies heavily on casting their spell of relaxation on the listener. Playing light and a bit slow is often much harder than just forcing in as many flourishes as can be squeezed between notes.

That isn’t to say the Brothers Comatose just play by the numbers. “Turning Up the Ground” has just the right amount of small touches of fiddle, mandolin and guitar in space. These aren’t there for technical excellence, but more like a light ripple of wind across tall grass – almost unnoticed but critical to drawing you closer to the natural movement of the whole.

Many of the songs on “Turning Up the Ground” have a transitional feel to them, with explorations of shifting from one thing to another. Sometimes choosing your art over a day job (“Working for Somebody Else”) sometimes the end of a relationship (“That Shit Ain’t Funny”), or maybe just a plea for connection in a time of uncertainty (“When It All Falls Apart”). These songs tend to bring out the best in the band, creative tension being one of the keys to great songwriting.

The tracks are well-ordered, and the best song comes midway with the break-up tune, “That Shit Ain’t Funny”. The song relies heavily on the restless rise and fall of the melody, and while a lot of the chorus climbs through the scale the first thing you hear is a low guitar walk down. This lets the listen know you’re starting from somewhere low, also evidenced by the song’s first line, “I can see through you like paper”. Yeah – things ain’t going well here…

The song also has some first-rate decisions in the arrangement category, starting sparsely with just guitar strum and then slowly building as we add in each member of the band, culminating in a lovely call-and-answer between fiddle and guitar at the bridge. The whole effect captures that sense of determination when you’re at the “pack the car” stage of a break-up, both resolute and also filled with regret.

On my first couple of listens I told myself that this record was nothing special, but on repeat listens its soft and gentle beauty sunk into my bones. My only complaint is that I had intended to just have a “one and done” relationship with this band, and now I realize I’m going to have to explore their entire discography. If the other records are as good as this, I’ll be well-contented, which is exactly the headspace “Turning Up the Ground” will put you in if you give it a chance.

Best tracks: Working for Somebody Else, Soft and Blue, That Shit Ain’t Funny, When it All Falls Apart

CD Odyssey Disc 1945: Ketch Secor

This is the third review in the last four that came out in 2025. While I select albums randomly every time, it does show I bought plenty of music in 2025. And every other year.

Disc 1945 is…Story the Crow Told Me

Artist: Ketch Secor

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Ketch Secor channels the Fonz.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a fan of Old Crow Medicine Show for a long time, and Secor is the singer and key songwriter for that band, so when he released a solo record, I figured it was worth a listen.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only solo record by Secor, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

Ketch Secor’s “Story the Crow Told Me” is part love letter to all the music that influenced him, and part thank you to everyone who helped him along the way. It’s a grateful and gracious record that tickles your ears and warms your heart.

Secor has plenty of material to draw on for such a retrospective, having navigated the highways of the world for 25 years as part of Old Crow Medicine Show. In lesser hands such a journey could feel self-indulgent, but this record is authentic and heartfelt throughout.

From the personal, Secor digs deep into his early experiences, busking his way across Canada and America, playing various holes in the wall (there is even a song called “Holes in the Wall” that honours them by name).

The songs have all the jump and energy that you’d expect on a full-blown OCMS album, supported by his OCMS band mates in several places, as well as additional star power of Molly Tuttle on harmony and even an appearance by the legendary Marty Stuart. The energy of the record is infectious, with hand-claps and sing-a-long choruses that make you feel like you’re part of the band, or at least in the front row of the show.

There isn’t anything particularly innovative on this record – it is the mélange of sounds typical of OCMS, mixing bluegrass, Americana, and country, but what it lacks in creativity it makes up for with veteran songwriting that delivers banger after banger.

Secor has assembled a band that is as tight and talented as they come, mostly settling down in the front of the pocket bluegrass style. It creates a jump and energy that makes it impossible to sit still. Matching the subject matter of the songs, the music is celebratory and lively.

Secor’s vocals are sneaky good. These songs don’t require a huge vocal range but they do call for elite timing and phrasing, and Secor delivers throughout. The effect is one of an expert storyteller, knowing how to lean in or out, complete with micropauses to emphasize punchlines and emotional notes when the moment demands. He’s so smooth at this that you’re liable to not notice, but it is worth the extra focus to appreciate his uncanny sense of timing.

In addition to revisiting his own personal journey through music, the record is also replete with music history. If you’re a fan of the history of Americana, folk and country music, there are Easter Eggs aplenty here. On “On the Wall” Secor celebrates getting your picture up on the wall alongside Hank Williams and Little Jimmy Dickens. The song is a mix of pride and humility as Secor reflects on the mark he too has made on music.

The album’s last song, “What Nashville Was” is the only negative moment on the record, as Secor laments the decline of Nashville’s music scene from a centre of creative excellence to the empty calories of new country that emerged in the nineties. Secor artfully blends in sections of Bob Dylan’s “Girl from the North Country”, plus samples of Johnny Cash, all mixed in with his own quick-witted perfectly timed message.

While the song takes more than a few shots at Nashville’s creative decline, ultimately this too is a love letter to not only what Nashville was, but that the idea of Nashville endures, or as Secor puts it, “still running in our blood”. Having been to Nashville, I can understand the dichotomy. Sure the Honky Tonk Highway can be a drunken mess of broken dreams, but just off the strip there are still plenty of artists working away making great music, and the heart of the town still beats today as strong as ever.

“Story the Crow Told Me” is a thoughtful journey through all the great music that paved the way in Secor’s journey, paired with all the people that contributed to his success along the way. It’s also a toe-tapping good time that just gets better and better on each listen.

Best tracks: Busker’s Spell, Talkin’ Doc Blues, Old Man River, Catch Me If You Can, Thanks Again, What Nashville Was

CD Odyssey Disc 1924: The Devil Makes Three

This next album has been in my collection a long time, and yet I’ve never rolled it through my random selection process. Or maybe I did once and mistakenly thought, “I’ve already reviewed that one” and moved on without checking. If that has ever happened, I apologize to whatever Gods of Chaos might take offence at such an uncharacteristic rejection of the arbitrary.

Disc 1924 is…Do Wrong Right

Artist: The Devil Makes Three

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? A drawing of an old man.

Minus context I will assume from this man is adept at ‘doing wrong right’, and he’s been doing it that way for a long time. You could ask for details, but I sense from that settled scowl in his expression that this feller would see the question rising to your lips and slap it away before you uttered it.

Better to just mosey along and save yourself a fat lip.

How I Came To Know It: I don’t remember. It was either a) reviewed in a folk magazine I used to buy occasionally (maybe Penguin Eggs or American Songwriter) or b) from a list of “best obscure folk albums you’ve never heard of” or somesuch. I’m a sucker for a list as much as the next online surfer.

How It Stacks Up: The Devil Makes Three has made quite a few records over the past twenty plus years or so, but this is my only one, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

A mix of old timey bluegrass, folk, and Dixieland, with a side of sin and damnation – that’s “Do Wrong Right”. This trio does up traditional music with a side of nasty.

The first thing that comes across with these guys is how raw their sound is. It feels like they’ve walked in off the back forty, dirt still under their fingernails and laid down a record for $30, a sandwich and a six pack of beer.

The production is so sparse you’ll think at times it was recorded in mono, but you don’t want it any other way. It gives the whole record a “sitting on the porch” vibe that is perfect for songs about regular folks living regular lives.

You won’t find lead singer and principal songwriter Pete Bernhard belting out an aria at La Scala, but his rusty saw of a vocal style is exactly what you want for this kind of music. Bernhard has the kind of voice that is welcoming enough that you’ll sing along with him when the spirit moves you, which is exactly what his two bandmates (Cooper McBean and Lucia Turino) do on many occasions. The effect is to generate a party atmosphere, even though most of the songs are about being poor, drunk, and maybe even ugly. Everyone’s welcome on this porch, but most of the guests stay too late.

There’s a Devil’s Carnival quality to these songs that give them a lascivious sway that reminded me of Tom Waits or the Bridge City Sinners. All those artists are partial to hard lives and bad choices, and the Devil Makes Three are no exception. The record is rife with songs of booze and poverty. Both themes coming together with self-destructive delight on “Gracefully Facedown” which celebrates such unwelcome but natural partners as bottom-shelf bourbon and blackout drunks.

“For Good Again” revisits what it’s like to be starving artists, couch surfing and trying to get ahead. Devil Makes Three’s old school musical approach reminds you this an occupational hazard of the artist as old as civilization itself, even while throwing in modern takes on sin with lines like:

“You’ll never understand the things my friend Aaron put us through
He had this power point presentation about this girl he wanted to do”

Yes, the album’s title is a recurring theme.

The record ends strong with “Car Wreck,” the story of a man who is born restless, cursed to always leave something good in the hopes of finding something better. One day he leaves the love of his life, but the decision haunts him and years later, drawn by the memory of the one thing he can’t shake, he races home to her. Except he dies in a car wreck on the way. The song is tragic and heart-wrenching and full of bad choices (case in point: he’s so drunk when he crashes that car that “whiskey soaks his bones”. One more bad choice transformed into immortality through the power of song.

Through it all, “Do Wrong Right” maintains a frantic energy, careening from one poor soul to another, and making every cautionary tale a toe-tapper of a time. You wouldn’t want to be these folks, but the Devil Makes Three will make you want to hear their stories.

Best tracks: All Hail, Do Wrong Right, Gracefully Facedown, For Good Again, Help Yourself, Working Man’s Blues, Car Wreck

CD Odyssey Disc 1888: Mean Mary

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey, where for the second review in a row we have a talented woman with a warble in her voice. A Creative Maelstrom – now with twice the warble!

Disc 1888 is… Portrait of a Woman (Part 1)

Artist: Mean Mary

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover? A lovely portrait of Mary James (aka Mean Mary), courtesy of artist Roselin Estephania.

James appears happy in this photo, although she may not yet realize she is under a butterfly attack. Don’t concern yourself. Butterfly attacks are rarely lethal and besides the back cover of the album has a cat batting at the butterfly, so help is on the way...

How I Came To Know It: I learned about Mean Mary through her 2024 album, “Woman Creature (Portrait of a Woman Pt. 2)” (reviewed back at Disc 1796) and I have since dived deep into her collection. “Portrait of a Woman, Part 1” comes from that.

How It Stacks Up: I now have six Mean Mary albums (and I’m on the hunt for two more). Of the six I already have, I put “Portrait of a Woman, Pt. 1” in at #6, which promotes “Blazing: Hell is Naked” up to #5 in the process.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Mean Mary is one of the greatest discoveries in my musical journey in many years, and I dove into “Portrait of a Woman, Part 1” with joy in my heart and anticipation of greatness. In the end, it falls short of greatness but still lands a solid record from an artist who doesn’t make bad ones.

If you are new to Mean Mary, she’s a singer-songwriter with a birdlike warble to her voice, and magic in her banjo-pickin’ fingers. While she sings about plenty of modern experiences, Mean Mary is an old soul, and thing will feel very ‘old timey’ throughout. If you don’t like folk music, and prefer things slathered in pop post-production trickery and a lot of instruments that require electricity to work, then this may not be for you. This is folk music for folksters, made without apology.

Things start with Mary’s talent on the banjo, which is considerable. Her playing is bright and sunny even by banjo standards. Expect these songs to put a jump in your step. Witness the delightfully merry instrumental “Merry Eyes”, a mid-tempo meander which will give your cockles a good warming.

Later in the record Mary will double down on the virtuosity, with a fiddle instrumental called “Butterfly Sky” where she channels her inner Scot with a heavy but precise action on the bow that summons up hints of Charlie McKerron and John Morris Rankin. As someone who can barely find 10 chords on a guitar, the idea that someone like Mean Mary can shift styles and instruments with such easy grace is even more impressive.

Every Mean Mary has at least one narrative gem, and on “Portrait…” that song is “Cranberry Gown”. It tells the story of a woman who purchases a beautiful dress but falls on hard times and has to sell it. Years later she finds a replacement dress in a thrift store that rekindles all the same magic. The dress lifts her spirits to the point that even on days when she goes casual (not every occasion calls for a cranberry gown).

The song reminds us of the power of art and expression to lift us not just in the moment of creative discovery, but for months after. It is a song about a dress, and about so much more than a dress. It is one of the finest songs Mean Mary (and brother Frank) have ever written.

Unfortunately, it is followed immediately by “Bridge Out” which wants to be a whimsical road trip but feels more like an indulgent moment at the open mic. Brother Frank’s vocal additions are hokey and often include affectations a drunk uncle might think are funny but are actually just awkward. Mean Mary’s usually delightfully warbles get drawn into her sibling’s overacting and create…a mess. The banjo playing is as sublime as ever, but even that can’t rescue this one. It’s the exception that proves the rule of Mary’s excellence.

For a better road trip song on the record, Mary provides us “Big Tour Bus” a song about being a struggling artist dreaming of having a big tour bus, ideally with a driver so you can sleep between gigs. It has all the same whimsy and light-hearted observational intent of “Bridge Out” but unlike that song, this one works. A stripped-down version of this song appears on Mary’s 2020 album “Alone” and while the “full band version” here doesn’t add a lot, I like the song enough that I was happy to hear it two different ways.

“Old Banjo” is also a delightful song, one of several where Mean Mary revels in an instrument that she knows well. “Old Banjo” has the feel of an ancient adventure. It’s a song you can imagine a medieval bard playing as he walks from town to town. The lyrics are festooned with heroes and kings that serve as metaphors for the singer’s relationship to their instrument.

Like every Mean Mary record I’ve heard, “Portrait of a Woman (Part One)” is a celebration of Mary James’ deep and abiding love of music. Her voice is a joyous birdsong, and her fingers on the banjo are well-travelled country roads to the happier places in your heart. If you want an introduction to Mean Mary, I would go out of order and start with 2024’s “Woman Creature” (Portrait of a Woman, Part 2)” but there is still plenty to recommend the prequel. If we cancel out the brilliance of “Cranberry Gown” and the indulgence of “Bridge Out” we still find ourselves with a fine sampling of her work.

Best tracks: Cranberry Gown, Merry Eyes, Big Tour Bus, Old Banjo

CD Odyssey Disc 1884: Jake Vaadeland

I was asked last night about my top 10 albums of 2025. The year isn’t over yet, but this next record will be in contention to make the list.

Disc 1884 is… One More Dollar to Go

Artist: Jake Vaadeland

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Jake Vaadeland kicks it old school. For Jake “kickin’ it” is putting on a suit and posing respectfully with your guitar.

How I Came To Know It: Whenever a festival comes to town, I make a point of listening to every artist ahead of time, so I know when to show up and when to leave each day. Often it is the early acts that catch my ear over the headliners. Frankly, by the time the headliners come on the audience is typically less engaged with the music, not more. Many would decry such claims later when showing the snippets they filmed on their i-Phones, but we who were there for the music saw what we saw.

But I digress…

Jake Vaadeland was one of the acts at this year’s Rifflandia, so I checked him out ahead of time. I loved it so much I made sure to show up early. Once I was at the show I bought both his LPs (and a t-shirt to boot) from the merch booth. And here we are…

How It Stacks Up: I have two Jake Vaadeland albums. They are both excellent, but “One More Dollar to Go” is #1.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Jake Vaadeland is unapologetically traditional. He is so traditional you will swear these are songs your mom used to play when you were a kid, maybe even your grandpa. You’d be wrong though, Vaadeland just writes tunes that are so timeless you think they’ve been around forever.

Writing original songs with a style and genre dating back anywhere from fifty to ninety years ago that are not derivative is damn hard. About as hard as writing a great pop hook, and way less appreciated. Vaadeland rises again and again to this challenge. In the process he has created a record that has potential to have the same staying power of the artists he honours.

That style sits somewhere in a golden nexus of heart-worn Hank Williams Sr. honky tonk, the bluegrass mastery of Bill Monroe, and the high-floating quaver of Johnny Horton. If that sounds like some impressive company, you’d be right. Vaadeland’s style floats in and out and around all three of these greats and in the process finds his own space to hunker down and do right.

Vaadeland’s vocals are sneaky good. So sneaky you don’t notice on any individual song, but across the full record you realize just how much range he has from the top of his head voice down into the almost Elvis growl of his lower register. He isn’t a show-off about it either, letting his vocal performance sit down easy into the song as one of many complementary parts.

The other parts come courtesy of his backing band, the Sturgeon River Boys. These fellas are a fine match indeed. Sometimes they mosey through a song, and sometimes they play a furious torrent of notes, but slow or fast they are always clean and precise.

With this kind of music that precision is critical, or you’ve got one hell of a mess on your hands. There is no room for being off the beat on this music, which is often front-end loaded and leaning dangerously forward through every chord shift.

Even played well, this style can veer off and become technical and emotionally empty, but that never happens. The record is warm and engaging throughout. If anything you feel like you’ve been invited over to the Vaadeland family home and an impromptu concert has broken out in the living room. Move the chairs, push the couches against the wall, and dance with your partner.

Much like the musical backdrop, the lyrics are very old school without ever feeling fake or forced. “One More Dollar to Go” is a modern classic about being broke. Being broke is never fun, but this song sure gives you reason to celebrate anyway. Never was being down to your last dollar so joyfully delivered.

“Hot Headed Woman” is about a woman who is hard to love and hard not to, and equal parts uncomfortable and sly in its character study. It’s not a healthy relationship, but the song’s restless energy is a case study in how some folks are just drawn to things that aren’t good for them.

“One More Dollar” and “Hot Headed Woman” are both up-tempo tunes which belie their sad subject matter. Elsewhere, Vaadeland shows his range with the slow and tragic tunes like “Old White Home” and “Neath the Shade of the Tree.”

Despite his old-school style, Vaadeland is fresh and energetic throughout. His love for this music is not a mere mask he puts on, but resides in his bones. This joy flows out of his songwriting and delivery alike, creating a record that gets better and better on every listen.

Best tracks: One More Dollar to Go, Hot Headed Woman, Old White Home, Don’t Go to the Valley, Lonesome Motor Inn, Neath the Shade of the Tree, A Glass of Wine Will Fix It Every Time

The Concert: December 7, 2025 at the Capital Ballroom, Victoria BC

Having seen Vaadeland earlier this year at Rifflandia (read more about that weekend immediately following the Sleater-Kinney review here) I was excited for what I knew was going to be a good show.

We were also cagey about getting there early. The Capital Ballroom is a lovely space but seating with good sightlines is limited and to score any, you gotta get there before the crowd does.

With this in mind we arrived 45 minutes before curtain but as ill-luck would have it there was a collection of fellow “olds” that had already secured all the prime balcony spots. I settled for a floor table that I knew from past experience was both awesome (near the soundboard/mixer) but fraught with peril (subject to random tall dudes standing in front of you.

As it happened, things broke in the likely fashion, with both great sound AND a part of the show starting partly at the back of some dude’s head. So it goes…

The set was richly decorated with old-time furniture and a lit Christmas tree, and put you into a mood that was both festive and comfortable. Into this scene landed Vaadeland and his Sturgeon River Boys, striking up the music and immediately dialing up the energy to 10.

Album play is one thing, but playing these kinds of furiously quick tunes live without a hitch is another level, and yet the boys were flawless – or at least so near flawless my amateur ear never caught the error. The bass player (not the one from the record) particularly enraptured me, with tasty low-end licks that both kept the time (the band has no drummer) and then made that time jump and bounce.

This being Christmas time, Vaadeland did a couple of carols, including a medley of tunes sung in tight harmony. This could’ve been a bit stuffy, but it was far from it, and I found myself enjoying old Christmas songs in a way I hadn’t done in years.

Vaadeland’s originals are what I had really come to see, however, and I was not disappointed. The set featured a good range of his many old-timey styles, all played with grace and energy.

From time to time, Vaadeland would hold his guitar up alongside his ear. I imagined it was whispering secrets to him, but it could’ve just been him checking the tuning. Whatever it was, he never missed a cue regardless of where he swung his axe.

The show was highly scripted, with the exact same banter I’d heard at the Rifflandia set, albeit expanded with the bigger set-list. This stuff is pretty great the first time you hear it but lacks the organic feel on multiple run-throughs. A minor quibble, in an otherwise thoroughly uplifting and entertaining show. That banter includes mid-set “advertisements for our sponsors,” where Vaadeland shills for Pepsi and a vintage clothing store in Saskatoon called “Better Off Duds” in true old school fairground style. I looked “Better Off Duds” up later and can confirm that, just like Diet Pepsi, it’s real.

The audience was…average. For the most part well-behaved and appreciative, but there were a small minority that talked loudly through portions of the set. I’m not sure why people come to a music show to talk through it, but there are plenty of sports bars that can accommodate that behaviour. I wish they’d gone there instead.

At the end of the concert, Vaadeland thanked both the technical team that ran the sound, but also the venue staff. It was a nice touch from a class act.

If you get a chance to see Jake Vaadeland and the Sturgeon River Boys live I encourage you to go. You’re in for a good time, although you may leave with a strange desire to drink a Diet Pepsi and shop vintage.

CD Odyssey Disc 1852: Mean Mary

On the heels of a movie soundtrack, we get a record that is the soundtrack to…a book. Strange, but true.

Disc 1852 is…Blazing: Hell is Naked Soundtrack

Artist: Mean Mary

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Just words. Considering one of the underlying themes to this record is the observation that “a woman would run naked into the street to save her baby, but a man would stop to put on his pants first,” this cover is an opportunity missed.

How I Came To Know It: In a very short window of time I have become a pretty serious Mean Mary fan. This was just me digging into her back catalogue.

How It Stacks Up: I have six Mean Mary albums, and I’m on the lookout for two more. I love every single one of the six I have, but something had to be last. I’m going to put “Blazing” in at #6. Competition is fierce.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Blazing” is an oddity I’m not sure I’ve encountered before – a soundtrack to a book. In this case, a book called “Hell is Naked” co-authored by Mean Mary (aka Mary James) and her mother Jean. The pair write a lot of books together, and a cursory overview suggests the characters make it into many of Mean Mary’s songs. This is the only time I am aware of where a whole album is dedicated to a book also written by the songwriter.

I have not read “Hell is Naked” – and apart from some overviews I’ve read (that include the observation I quote in “What’s Up with the Cover?”) – I don’t know much about it. The good news is you don’t have to know anything about the book to enjoy this record. It is just more of Mean Mary doing what she does best – writing and singing great songs and playing the banjo with skill and artistry few can match.

Let’s start with that banjo playing, which is transcendent. It stupefies me to listen, and made writing this review difficult, because when Mary is deep in her instrument the beauty is overwhelming. I can’t do anything but sit and let it soak over me. I had to turn the volume down just to concentrate on writing. And I hated doing it, too.

The album is replete with examples of banjo at its absolute finest, but the best is “Rainy”, a mid-tempo instrumental appearing at Track Two. “Rainy” is the light splash of a warm summer rain, and trills along in a way that makes you want to dance in that rain. You will get water in your shoes and – against all previous experience – you will find the experience joyful.

This song calmed and lifted my spirit in a way that reminded me of early experiences on first hearing the fiddle of Capercaillie’s Charlie McKerron. My heart wondering, “can this be happening, and please let it happen for a little longer.” “Rainy” is sadly over in 3:12, but I took solace that I had it on recording, there for whenever I needed it.

I’ll now go back to the start, and the opening track, “Harlequin” on which Mean Mary eschews banjo for fiddle and guitar. The song has a bluesy barroom sway that introduces you to the titular character in a way that is soaked in sin and mystery. One of many great lines that draws you in by only teasing what may be going on…

“Bogged down in the Tinsel Town of sin
Harlequin, dressed up as paladin
Confident—but not confiding
You fool the world by hiding—what’s within”

Cool.

The album showcases Mean Mary’s considerable range of style. “Harlequin” is all sway and smoke, and songs like “Sugar Creek Mountain Rush” are pure bluegrass jump n’ holler, and just as compelling.

Mary also delivers a devout and deeply moving version of “Rock of Ages” arranged with just vocals and banjo. Think the banjo can’t properly deliver a solemn hymn? Think again.

All of the songs benefit from Mean Mary’s compelling warbling tone. Her vocals are like the ocean: on the surface a a myriad of tiny variations and light touches that make every note unique, and underneath an inexorable power that flows over and through you.

The album’s final song, “I Face Somewhere” has a “final credits/triumphant last scene” feel that befits the end of the book’s “soundtrack”. It’s the first and only time we feature an electric guitar (played by Mary) and it is used to create a rock n’ roll groove that drives off into the distance in the rarely welcomed fade out. Great stuff.

I hope one day to read the book “Hell is Naked”. The CD case has excerpts from it alongside each song and the writing looks top grade. But even if I never get to it I’ll be glad to have the record, which stands tall and inspiring, independent of any other artistic medium that might be associated with it.

Best tracks: Harlequin, Rainy, Face Somewhere, Sugar Creek Mountain Rush, Rock of Ages, I Face Somewhere

CD Odyssey Disc 1816: Billy Strings

For the third time in four reviews we get an album from 2024. Why is this happening, you ask? We’ve covered this, people. It’s random.

Disc 1816 is…Highway Prayers

Artist: Billy Strings

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? The front end of a 1972 Chevelle SS, in all its glory. Well, in most of its glory – someone has modified the SS to read “BS” presumably to match Billy Strings’ initials and not the more commonly seen abbreviation.

As for the Chevelle, I am a devoted fan of the muscle car, and there are not many cars nicer than this one. First generation Camaros are the best, for sure. After that there are plenty of great muscle cars vying for second place. These early seventies Chevelles are in the conversation.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Brennan has been on me for years to give Billy Strings a chance, and while I’ve dabbled I’ve never dived in. However, this record features that Chevelle on the cover which is the sign of a greater power at work (in this case, an inner sleeve picture revealing there is a rare 502 big block under the hood). I don’t mess with the fates; I bought the record.

How It Stacks Up: Billy Strings appears on a guest on a couple of my albums (Molly Tuttle, Sierra Ferrell) but this is my only studio album of his, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

Rare is the double album that can’t be whittled down to a single, and while “Highway Prayers” makes an honest race of it, it can’t quite propel itself to justifying all those damned songs. There are a ton of amazing tunes on “Highway Prayers” but could I have cut it from 20 to 14 and made a better record? Reader, I could.

That’s not a diss, mind you. Billy Strings is a prolific songwriter, and he takes the extra space and time afforded through his excess and makes good use of it. While this album at its core is bluegrass, Strings works the extra content to branch out into various forms of country and folk, and even a little indie stoner action to show us he’s down with trends popular all the way from two hundred years ago to yesterday.

Things get started in a very traditional way with a couple of classic bluegrass numbers in “Leanin’ On a Travellin’ Song” and “In the Clear”. “In the Clear” is particularly appealing, not just because of the musicianship (more on that in a moment) but also because the songs have a lot to say. It is a song that reminds us that no matter how many horses you may have under the hood, it can still sometimes get confusing about where the hell you’re going. The opening two stanzas sum it up:

“Well, here I am pulled over now
Just crying on the shoulder
Down the road that I've been driving on for days
So I aim my moral compass
But it's spinning like a wheel
And you could take that many different ways

“I've had days as black as nighttime
And nights that lasted years
I spent a thousand hours on my knees
Broke down and started praying
But I was pleading with the wind
Just to never feel the difference in the breeze”

For anyone who has ever wondered what the hell the point of it all is, or even why they’re even doing what they’re doing, Billy wrote this song for you. You can drive, or you can pray or you just sit confused and spin that internal compass but some days the answers just aren’t gonna come.

It is hard to get too upset about all the uncertainty when you have musicians as solid as you’ll encounter on “Highway Prayers”. Strings has many fine friends in the bluegrass community and he brings them all to show their stuff on this record. Bluegrass is a great genre in that everyone gets their solo, which is very egalitarian and also easy on the ears when played well.

Strings himself is famously talented on the guitar, and he earned that fame. Dude can wail in a way that few can even imagine, and some of the pickin’ he delivers here hits the very top right-hand edge of a graph measuring “too clever by half” against “still sounds great”. This can also be Strings’ downfall. Very easy to listen to, but some solos have lengths that are better suited to live-only moments. Too much of a good thing is true even at this ridiculously high level of talent.

For the most part I forgive this excess (and even liked it half the time), and Strings does a good job of juxtaposing all that technical mastery with some down-home storytelling. It is in these moments that I liked him best, covering tales of hardship (“Seven Weeks in County”), bad relationships (“Don’t Be Callin’ Me (at 4.a.m.)” and dark and dangerous hints of jealous vengeance (“My Alice”).  The way “My Alice” focuses on someone watching your girl in a way you don’t appreciate had me thinking of the voyeuristic Nick Cave song “Watching Alice”. Did the one inspire the other? I have no idea; your mind starts playing tricks on you after there’s few too many songs crammed in there.

There are a couple of grade A tunes about smokin’ grass (“Catch and Release” and “Morbud4me” that give the album a healthy dose of levity. The former’s a song about a lucky encounter with a forgiving state trooper, and the latter about very little more than the joy of getting stoned. “Morbud4me” doesn’t break any new ground lyrically, but the decision to create rhythm section by looping the sound of flicking a lighter with the burble of a water pipe is clever and surprisingly musical.

There is a lot of great stuff on “Highway Prayers” and with six fewer songs, this could’ve cracked the Top 10 list for 2024. As it is, it is a record chock full of just enough good stuff that you don’t mind a little bit of inoffensive filler, which even when too long is still played with gusto and deep wells of talent.

Best tracks: In the Clear, Seven Weeks in County, Don’t Be Callin’ Me (at 4 a.m.),  Catch and Release, Be Your Man, My Alice, Morbud4me, The Beginning of the End, Richard Petty

CD Odyssey Disc 1774: Bridge City Sinners

For the second straight review we have a CD where the case is a narrow piece of cardboard with nothing on the spine. Argh. This one was one of four I bought by the same band, so I converted an old double album CD case into a case for all four and named it “The Bridge City Sinners Anthology.”. While they are all now in one place, I am committed to rolling them individually. Here’s the first.

Disc 1774 is…Unholy Hymns

Artist: Bridge City Sinners

Year of Release: 2021

What’s up with the Cover? The Bridge City Sinners’ logo, which looks like a pentagram inside an eyeball. If your iris looks like this, call a doctor, and maybe also a priest. You’ve got a condition.

How I Came To Know It: Last month I went to Vancouver to see Frank Turner in concert. While waiting for the show to start I was fascinated to see the lineup for the opening band’s merch table stretch back three times as long as Frank’s. Feeling inspired I got in that lineup, learned it was the Bridge City Sinners from their fans (who are hardcore), and by the time I was at the front bought a t-shirt and all four albums. This is one of them. It was done on a whim, but it turned out well for me.

How It Stacks Up: I have four Bridge City Sinners albums. I love them all, but they are all so new it is hard to rank them. I’ll say it is #2 but I reserve the right to move it around.

Ratings: 4 stars

It’s rare that music as old timey as the Bridge City Sinners can sound like nothing you’ve ever heard before, but such is the devil’s brew of styles they mix up. Be prepared for a healthy does of bluegrass, the soul of punk, combined with a healthy dollop of lounge cabaret that has run away with the circus. Oh, also, as the name would imply they sing about sin – and Satan in particular – a lot.

The genre busting is maybe best exemplified by lead singer Libby Lux, who also plays…the banjolele. I’ve never heard of the banjolele before Libby introduced me to it, but it is what the name implies – what a ukulele would be like if it were based off a banjo and not a guitar. It’s a weird combination of sound, half of both, and according to Wikipedia (which is never wrong) “most” popular in the twenties and thirties.

That tracks, because Lux and her band fell right out of an alternate past, where the world is a diaspora of sex, booze, sin and Satan. People dance about in the mud shirtless, wearing only work boots, baggy pants and floppy hats. There is much carrying on.

Yes that’s the vibe, you say, but how’s the music? Thanks for asking – the answer is…excellent. They’ve updated old timey sounds into something with a ragged and modern edge. Most tunes are played at a furious pace, and every instrument at any moment will be dropping staccato string strikes. Drums are entirely absent and entirely unnecessary. Despite the speed, everyone keeps impeccable time, allowing frontwoman Libby Lux to work her magic.

That magic is an unholy warble, as Lux twists her mouth around lyrics like they’re so hot they’ll burn her tongue, so lascivious that you can tell she likes them that way. Lux is a punk possessed, but never so out of control she’s not always serving the song and the arrangement – which can jump from one idea to the next several times in a single tune. Her passion pulls you through every curve, and you’re quickly drawn into all that energy.

As noted earlier, the Bridge City Sinners love singing about the dark side of the universe, and much like their two previous records, “Unholy Hymns” is replete with murder ballads, tales of drug abuse and, of course, the devil. There is even a double-shot of Lovecraftian horror with “The Legend of Olog-Hai” Part 1 and 2.

There are no bad songs, but one particular standout is “Devil Like You” a duet tale of newlyweds and murder where death-by-strangulation is the order of the day, and the romance part of the song very much past tense and ephemeral.

“Rock Bottom” is a bouquet of depression, cigarettes and alcohol, all of which are part of the dirgelike refrain of “no matter how low I go/there ain’t no rock bottom for me.”

The album ends with the title track, and the band doubles down on their apocalyptic but artistic vision as the narrator dies, finds out they are destined for hell, and yet remain rebellious and unrepentant:

“Hey Saint Pete how do I look
Sorry I didn't spend my life reading your book
I'll be fine don't pray for my sins
I'm going down singing unholy hymns”

Traditional bluegrass, this is not.

It is also not music if you are looking for uplifting tales of love and redemption, but if you enjoy the antics of a rogue’s gallery of murderers, drunks and devil-may-care rakes, then this music is a sinful pleasure. If as you may suspect, it is a little tongue-in-cheek, this takes nothing away from the brilliant writing and performing of gifted players who fully commit to their roles from start to finish.

Best tracks:  The Devil’s Swing, Rock Bottom, Departed, Devil Like You, Unholy Hymns

CD Odyssey Disc 1756 Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway

I’m just back from a whirlwind overnight trip to Vancouver exclusively to see Molly Tuttle live. I’ve reviewed the concert immediately following the album it was supporting so scroll down past the studio album review if you can’t wait to hear how it went.

Disc 1756 is…. City of Gold

Artist: Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover? Gee…that’s nice.

That’s a guitar player joke for those in the know.

For those not in the know, Molly is looking halfway between dangerous and fabulous with a dark sunglasses stare-down and silver sparkly suit. Approach at your own peril, because this woman will play over you like a white freightliner.

That’s a Molly Tuttle joke, for those in the know.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a fan of Molly Tuttle since discovering her through a Paste Magazine list of folk musicians I should know back in 2019. I’ve learned early on that just buying her record when it is released is a good idea, which is what I did for “City of Gold”.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Molly Tuttle albums (three solo, and two with her backing band, Golden Highway). Of those five, “City of Gold” comes in at #3. There is zero shame in this, because even at #3 “City of Gold” was still one of the best records of 2023. That’s how good Molly Tuttle records are.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

Molly Tuttle was a revelation when she was a solo artist, but since she added the Golden Highway backing band she’s taken things to whole new levels of musical accomplishment. She and these four stalwarts are dripping in talent, and the songs are played in a way that squeezes every bit of excellence out of them.

"City of Gold” is the second album with Golden Highway, and while it is a slight step down in terms of song quality, it is the kind of step down that you’d need the camera they use at the end of a horse race to notice. By which I mean, this record is a f***-ton of awesome.

Things start on a high point with “El Dorado” a song about the California gold rush and a host of characters that leap off the page. This tune is cowritten with Old Crow Medicine Show’s frontman Ketch Secor, who also co-wrote many of the songs on Tuttle’s previous record. Whatever alchemy is at work, Tuttle and Secor excel when writing together. Her earlier stuff is a bit more introspective, but with Secor’s influence you get a lot more “cut loose” kind of vibe. Not necessarily better, but definitely more energetic.

Much like the musicianship, the characters on El Dorado come at you fast and furious, with each stanza telling the tale of how this rogue’s gallery of characters each meat their (mostly bad) fates. My favourite is Snake Oil Jake:

“Stay away from Snake Oil Jake, he'll fool you with a fountain pen
One look in his eyes, you'll be hypnotized, he's got that sleight-of-hand
He's sleek and fat like an old tom cat, they say he has nine lives
But Snake Oil Jake sure met his fate when they shot him down ten times”

Another favourite is “Alice in the Bluegrass” a song that cleverly converts Alice in Wonderland into a metaphor for the love of all things bluegrass. Tuttle also digs into the drug-references in the original story, and salts chemically altered states throughout the song. The record has plenty of drug references, including a direct plea for full marijuana legalization on “Down Home Dispensary.” Not something you see on your average bluegrass record, but Tuttle is not your average bluegrass player.

As noted earlier, in Golden Highway Tuttle has curated some of the finest bluegrass musicians in the land, and she puts them to good use on every single tune. Every song is different, but one thing they share are unapologetic solos that showcase that talent. You wouldn’t need this – just them playing things tight as hell through the melody would be enough to impress – but rarely will you encounter this many solos and tire of none of them.

And fear not early lovers of her solo work, you will get plenty of Tuttle guitar work to thrill and amaze you. Tuttle is tied with Mark Knopfler for my all-time favourite guitar player. Yes, all time. Even more than Buck Dharma. None better. You could enjoy “City of Gold” simply to witness her mastery of the instrument, but you won’t have to. You’ll get all of that, plus four other musical masters, all playing some of the finest songs you’ll hear in this or any other genre.

Best tracks:  El Dorado, Where Did All the Wild Things Go, Next Rodeo, Alice in the Bluegrass, Down Home Dispensary

The Concert – August 1, 2024 at the Hollywood Theatre, Vancouver

Not many artists will have me shell out hundreds of dollars and a bunch of vacation time to fly to Vancouver mid-week to see them, but as you could likely predict from the review above, Molly Tuttle is on that list. I was still smarting from missing her by a single day in Seattle, and I was determined to not miss her again.

The show was at a venue I’d never been to before – a converted movie theatre in Kitsilano called the Hollywood Theatre”. Coming in you are greeted by the old-school popcorn concession, but once you come around the corner you see they’ve hollowed out the room, leaving about 1/3 of the seating intact along the sides, and a big empty space for dancin’ and drinkin’, but most for listenin’.

I had expected the crowd to be about 50% bearded oldsters who love bluegrass and 50% young hipsters discovering the music for the first time. The actual split was more like 75/25 but otherwise it was as anticipated. Everyone was well-behaved, although as a seated person I did not love the tall young ‘uns standing in my field of vision. I guess it’s not their fault they’re tall. With the exception of one or two overly enthusiastic original hippies, the crowd had a great vibe. OK, even the hippies had a good vibe, although I would not have minded to slightly less interpretive dancing on their part.

Before I get to the music, a shout-out to the merch table, which had not one, not two, but three different t-shirts, all in my size. I would have loved to have the tour dates on the back of one of them, but I won’t quibble. Merch success!

The Lonesome Town Painters

The opening act was a local band from East Van called the Lonesome Town Painters. These gents were VERY traditional bluegrass. Before the show I spotted one in the audience, and assumed it was a fan dressed up like Bill Monroe. Turns out, they all dressed that way.

They played old standards, and while they weren’t vocal legends, they worked hard at delivering good harmonies and their joy for the music was evident. They also did a number of original compositions that were just as good as the traditional numbers, particularly a funny song called “I’m Sorry” which made it clear the narrator was not at all sorry. The banjo player joked he wrote it for his wife.

The banjo player was the class of the band, and his solos were a cut above the rest, although everyone played well. I wasn’t sufficiently inspired to be their records or merch (best banter line “we don’t have someone watch our merch table, so if you took anything, please come around and meet us after the set to pay for it”) but they were fun and set a good tone.

Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway

• Bronwyn Keith-Hynes – fiddle
• Kyle Tuttle (no relation) – banjo
• Molly Tuttle – guitar and vocals
• Shelby Means – bass
• Dominick Leslie – mandolin

I’m starting with that lineup shout out, because this band is a true band in every sense of the word. Tuttle could just be famous in her own right as one of the greatest guitar players in history, but she’s subverted that call to ego to create something infinitely greater – a super band.

The way they set up shows what to expect from the get-go, lined up equally across the stage in a phalanx of sound. They hit the stage giving each other knowing smiles of “we got this” and immediately launched without a word into a three song mini-set starting with “El Dorado”.

I had seen them play live on many a Youtube clip and so was expecting be blown away by how good they were, but even that couldn’t prepare me for how fucking good they were.

Every song had some form of bluegrass noodle (for those unfamiliar, bluegrass doesn’t just do a single solo – everyone gets a turn except the bass player, and even they get a turn about every fourth song). Sound like it would annoy you? Wrong! I sat enraptured the whole time, my ears having a hard time comprehending how good it was as it washed through me.

Yes, I was there to see Tuttle wail, and wail she did. Watching the finger dexterity required to drop the furious guitar work she delivers is a visual thrill, but to hear it3D in all its live glory was transcendent. She also sang incredibly well, and I was reminded that her guitar work can make it easy to forget what a talented vocalist she is as well.

A highlight was a call-and-answer bit between Tuttle’s guitar and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes fiddle, as they took turns playing off one another, entering some level of creativity I don’t have the musical education to describe other than I loved it.

The setlist was brilliant as well, featuring a good mix of mostly music from their last two records, plus some well-placed covers. Standouts included a “bluegrassed” cover of Olivia Rodrigo’s “Good 4 U” and a rendition of Neil Young’s “Helpless” that had the fans singing along in full throat on the chorus.

My favourite was “Crooked Tree” a song about being unabashedly unique that always puts a lump in my throat, but even more so live.

Also, if you are wondering if bass player Shelby Means is as cool as she looks in that sparkly top and dark sunglasses, the answer is yes. She exudes cool, and after each solo flashed a subtle smile that delivered a “nailed it!” vibe that was entirely justifiable.

My only regret was Tuttle did one solo song that was taken as a request from shout outs from the crowd. In these moments I am often paralyzed with wanting to shout out the perfect choice and by the time I had rallied myself and as set to bellow my request for “Good Enough” she’d already selected a much-less creative choice for a request for “She’s a Rainbow”. Of course Molly nailed it, but my choice was better. Woulda, coulda, shoulda…

Tuttle and the band played for well over 90 minutes and the energy just grew and grew the whole time. When the lights came on, I felt a bit sad that it was over, but mostly I felt flush with the knowledge that I’d witnessed greatness. 5 stars, and one of the top 5 concerts I’ve ever seen.

CD Odyssey Disc 1728: Mandolin Orange

Over the weekend Sheila and I celebrated our anniversary. We traditionally buy each other shoes (yes, this happened). This year I also bought myself a gift in the form of…fancy new headphones!

Better than any gift though, is spending all the great years with my best friend and the love of my life. Here’s to you, Sheila!

Disc 1728 is…Such Jubilee

Artist: Mandolin Orange

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover?  After the sun set we looked for a place of shelter other than under the expansive night sky. “Oh, look”, we exclaimed, “there’s a not-creepy-at-all farmhouse over there. That looks safe!”

How I Came To Know It: I think I read a review for “Blindfaller” (reviewed back at Disc 1064) and drilled backward from there.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Mandolin Orange albums and this one comes it at #2, just behind the peerless excellence that is “Blindfaller”. This is the last review of Mandolin Orange albums in my collection (for now) and so here’s a recap:

1. Blindfaller: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 1064)
2. Such Jubilee: 4 stars (reviewed right here)
3. Tides of a Teardrop/Sing and Play Traditionals: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1274)

Rating: 4 stars

If you are eager for a memorable first listen on a new set of headphones, you can’t do much better than “Such Jubilee”, folk/bluegrass duo Mandolin Orange’s fourth album and easily one of their best.

Mandolin Orange is Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz; multi-instrumentalists and gifted vocalists who lay down thoughtful soundscapes that are as beautiful and natural as the flow of a creek through a stand of fir trees. Like being deep in the woods, the feeling you will get is one of majestic isolation. A place where life quietens down and your ears open up to a constellation of sound.

In this case, the constellations are traditional bluegrass instrumentation, played with an ease and gentleness that blows over you like a chinook wind, warm and refreshing. This is the temple of the mid-range and natural. Inside a calm will descend over you, your soul restored.

The first thing you will pick up from Mandolin Orange is the sublime playing. Unsurprisingly, the mandolin work is as good as you will hear in this world or any other. If there are mandolins in heaven, they will sound like how Andrew Marlin plays one on this record. In lesser bluegrass configurations, the mandolin is a glorified timekeeper, but on “Such Jubilee” it is multifaceted, simultaneously holding down the beat while starring in the melody.

Frantz is no slouch on the violin either, brilliant and perfectly placed. Then there is the banjo (Marlin again) and some sublime guitar work (both of them). How the hell each of these two can master even one of these instruments at this level is boggling, never mind two or three.

But what I like most about this record is how everything is played with such a carefree and unhurried way. These songs dance in your ears like fireflies on a summer night, winking on and off. It isn’t just the new headphones talking here, either – I went for a run today and listened on decidedly average earbuds designed for sport over sound. It was still great. Maybe not quite as arrestingly beautiful but still noticeably great.

The vocals of both Marlin and Frantz are both excellent. Neither of them sings with big power, choosing instead to match their approach to their playing style. Understated, and graceful, they each take the lead from time to time, or sing in harmony, as each song’s structure demands.

Lyrically, the songs also have a pastoral quality, with many songs hearkening back to memory, sometimes of events and other times just a mood or emotional experience. The best narrative is captured on “Rounder”, a song about a rough and careless criminal passing his final night before being hanged. The song is replete with understated and evocative imagery. My favourite lines:

“I wore my pride on my bad side
And on the other get my hand close by the trigger
Some folks are guided by the weight of their tongues
But we all fall silent at the end of a gun”

While not all the songs are as literal as “Rounder” many cover resignation and heartache, exploring them with that slow and relaxed roll that lets you approach hard thoughts free and easy, making you ready to confront your demons or make peace with them as occasion allows.

The only bad word to say about “Such Jubilee” is that it isn’t quite “Blindfaller” but there’s no shame in that. Taken together these two albums are must-have works of grace and beauty.

Best tracks: Old Ties and Companions, Little World, Rounder, That Wrecking Ball, Of Which There Is No Like