CD Odyssey Disc 1965: Lera Lynn

This next album review doesn’t have a concert component, but I did see this artist live eleven years ago in Nashville. You can read all about it back at Disc 792.

Disc 1965 is…Resistor

Artist: Lera Lynn

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? Angles and shapes, yo! Also Lera’s disembodied head in a circle.

I’m not sure what this cover is going for, but apart from an exploration of rudimentary geometry, it does not land it.

How I Came To Know It: By 2016 I was already three albums deep with Lera, so this was just me buying her latest release and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Lera Lynn albums, which I feel is a lot. Of those, I put “Resistor” in at #4, so right in the middle.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Resistor” finds Lera Lynn doubling down on the same “mood music to be murdered to” kind of vibe that worked for her so well on her 2014 record “The Avenues” as well as her contributions to the second season of “True Detective”. It’s a warm and sultry soak in cigarette smoke and whiskey neat.

Sounds alluring – but it doesn’t come easy. “Resistor” is a headphones album – better when you can immerse yourself in it without distraction. As driving albums go it is a forgettable bit of background hum, but if you give it your full attention without the roar of the engine competing with the low notes and it is instantly so much better.

These songs are lounge personified, and while there is a wall of sound quality to it, Lynn’s vocals have an ability to travel through without ever breaking the broader mood.

The opening track, “Shape Shifter” is a bit of a banger, up tempo and with the snap of a snare drum and syncopation that won’t show itself much for the rest of the record. This song is the one tune that throws its hip into the street and invites you to give the rest of the record a chance. It’s a wise opening choice, but don’t expect more of the same, as the remainder of the record will instead retreat into the deeper swells of sound.

These are songs that take their time, and if you’re in a hurry it is going to irritate you. Lynn’s purpose is not to show you vocal gymnastics, nor to hop from one musical concept to another. She’s here for the slow burn, the late-night confessions that come only after the second bottle of wine gets opened.

Lynn’s early records are much more country in style, and through the mist and mystery of her more urbanized self you can still pick out a western twang, particularly on songs like “For the Last Time” and “Slow Motion Countdown”.

The subtle reverberation of “Slow Motion Countdown” features the many and varied dangers of the night: the rattlesnake in the midnight desert out back, and the distant stare from a lover in the booth across from you, both cold-blooded and dangerous. It’s a song about fading love, but more than that, it is a song about the untethered danger of what comes next.

There are places where the whole thing is so atmospheric it almost collapses under the weight of its own coolness, and not every song has the bones to hold the groove on its own. Just a touch more balance toward that earlier twang would have been welcome, but Lynn won’t go back to simpler times any more than the complex and alluring characters she sings about.

In the end “Resistor” is a slow dance of a record that can go a couple of different ways. Awkward and a bit distant if you are only willing to put your hands on its hips and avoid eye contact; evocative and tactile when you embrace it close against you, and surrender to its perilous charms.

Best tracks: Shape Shifter, Cut + Burn, Run the Night, For the Last Time, Slow Motion Countdown

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 1954: The Watson Twins

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey where today we take a second dig into recently released Americana.

Disc 1954 is…Holler

Artist: The Watson Twins

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover? Sisters Chandra and Leigh (aka the Watson Twins) strike a pose in front of a brick wall. Or possibly this is Leigh and Chandra. I can’t tell. They’re twins.

How I Came To Know It: I learned about the Watson Twins through their collaboration with Jenny Lewis on her debut album Rabbit Fur Coat in 2006 (which I’ve owned for almost twenty years but surprisingly have not rolled to review).

That record got me heavily into Jenny Lewis (and from there, Rilo Kiley) but I never paid the Watson Twins much mind. I bought one of their records in 2010 but it wasn’t until a few years back that I explored their discography in earnest.

That occurred because the local record store had a bunch of their records used and reasonably priced, and so I decided to see how they’d fared over all those years. Turns out there were a couple more good enough to buy, and “Holler” was one of ‘em.

How It Stacks Up: The Watson Twins have released six full length LPs, but I only have three. Of those three, I put “Holler” in at third (or last, if you are being pessimistic).

Ratings: 2 stars

There’s something about twins singing harmony that always sounds special, and the Watson Twins are no exception. While this gives this record a leg up overall the potential was never fully realized in the way I’d hoped.

With that ominous lede and those two stars hanging tarnished in the “ratings” category, you might be eagerly anticipating a whole lot of nasty in this review. If so, you’ll be disappointed. Overall, I enjoyed “Holler” which is a mainstream run at indie country/Americana performed with talent and care.

The vocals on the record have the aforementioned “twin” advantage, and both Watsons together have a rich tone and a talent for phrasing. There is very little solo singing on the record, and even where one sister is leading, there is heavy support. This is a team effort. I could’ve used a little more variation to the way they approached each song vocally, but it is a minor quibble.

They sound best on “Hundred Miles”, where the ladies benefit from a lilting melody, and yet another depiction of the dream of Nashville, deflected. In this case 100 miles in the wrong direction to a town called Crossville. I looked it up and sure enough, Crossville TN is a place – about 12,000 people strong. Likely a fine enough town, but less so if you are dreaming of the bright lights of Nashville like the song’s narrator.

In any event, the song showcases the Watson Twins’ vocals, which do not feature big range or power, but are surprisingly sweet for such a sad song.

“Hundred Miles” is a good song, but it also illustrates that for much of the record I found the vocals float a bit too much mid-range, in songs with workmanlike compositions that just don’t reach in and grab you like art should. The stereo hum of the two-part harmonies are soothing at first, but over the course of the record they left me wanting more, either in terms of a third voice, more solo work, or maybe just songs with more movement in their structure.

But let’s be positive again. I also liked “The Palace” which is a barroom anthem about the local watering hole. Lyrics like:

“Another night at The Palace
Pour me a double in the chalice
If you won't be my king, I'll wear the crown
This watering hole my home
This barstool is my throne
If we ain't making up, I'll throw 'em down”

Feel heavily inspired by the more famous “Queen of the Silver Dollar” of Dr. Hook or Emmylou Harris (depending on your preferred version) which begins with a similar:

“She's the queen of the Silver Dollar
And she rules this smoky kingdom
And her sceptre is a wineglass
And a barstool is her throne”

I like how “The Palace” puts an interesting twist on what is essentially the same scene, but from the queen’s perspective, not the viewers. Through her narrative we learn she’s out on the town because she’s angry with her no-good cheat of a boyfriend. At the Silver Dollar, the jesters flock around their queen and fight to win her favour. At the Palace, you know that any success they achieve is as much an expression of her vengeance as her interest.

“The Palace” and “Hundred Miles” are my two favourites, one for the storyline and one for the melody. There are other good tunes, including the title track, which is clearly intended to be an opening banger, but they didn’t cut quite so deep.

Not helping is very flat production across the record, which makes things sound distant and fuzzy on songs that would benefit from a bit more separation. There is a distinct alt-rock sound thrown into the arrangements but the songs are country tunes down in their bones, and the two vibes don’t always gel as intended.

There’s nothing on “Holler” that straight up irritated me, but there were just too few moments where I wanted to..er…holler. For this reason, I’m going to bid this record a fond farewell from my collection and wish it well in finding a better match than with me.

Best tracks: The Palace, Hundred Miles

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 1921: Benjamin Tod

I buy a lot of music by a lot of artists, but every now and then something new comes along that I fall for at another level. That’s how it is with this next artist.

Disc 1921 is…I Will Rise

Artist: Benjamin Tod

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? Benjamin Tod walks on the wrong side of the tracks, or at least the wrong side of that fence with a sign that reads, “Keep Out of Rail Yard – No Admittance”.

How I Came To Know It: I discovered Benjamin Tod in 2024 through his album “Shooting Star” (reviewed back at Disc 1789) and I’ve been digging backward through his discography ever since.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Benjamin Tod albums (including his latest, bought earlier today). “I Will Rise” comes in right in the middle at #3.

Ratings: 4 stars

Authenticity is a rare gift, and never more important than in folk and country music. On his first solo album away from the Lost Dog Street Band, singer-songwriter Benjamin Tod is as authentic as it comes.

“I Will Rise” is ten songs that wring every drop of heartache, regret, and anguish of out Tod’s hard-lived experience. While you listen you will both feel connected viscerally to these stories, and at the same time unworthy of them. Yes in one way we live through Tod’s artistry but in another it is only a shadowy reflection on the cave wall of the true event.

Take “Using Again”, where Tod describes falling off the wagon and the miserable self-loathing that emerges from it. Opening with:

“I'm living low down and I am using again
I'm hating my name cause I am cursed like my kin
And if I should see you before I am condemned
I hope you're deceived by the webs that I spin

“I wish I was who I appear
'Cause I despise the man in the mirror”

The song offers no respite from beginning to end, its final chorus a recognition that death approaches, and hell soon thereafter – its final notes an unresolved melody offering no surcease.

Without Tod’s authentic delivery songs like “Using Again” wouldn’t work, but his tortured warble that peals out of Tod like he’s been cursed by the gods to be chained to a rock and forced to shout his doubts and sins into the wind.

The arrangements could not be simpler, with nothing but Tod’s exceptional vocals and a single steel-stringed guitar, played with a heavy pick that twangs and twists through the song’s chord progression. Tod plays like he sings, with a deliberate and profound honesty.

On “I Will Never Be Around” Tod doubles down on hopeless, noting that he “would pick a shallow grave over an empty cell”. Yeesh, and the way he sings it makes you feel like either or both outcomes are imminent. Great stuff, but not exactly Gilmore Girls.

On a record like this, you take your joy where you can find it. There are plenty of songs where Tod’s romantic side comes out. Yes, even here he often comes at his subject matter from a dark place, (“Hungry For You Blues”, “Busted Love” and the classic road-trip argument, “Gasoline”) but at least we find an opportunity to explore the parts of our heart that hurt in a good way.

The record’s final track, “I Will Rise” is an anthem to the downtrodden, and while continuing to pull no punches, the record’s final salvo is one of hope and endurance. Here, Tod brings it all together. He sings of lost love and heartache, of hands shaking from alcohol withdrawal and the weariness of burning the candle at both ends; I expect a nod to the “all-in” approach to his songwriting, which leaves no stone in his troubled soul unturned.

And yet, at each admission of struggle, or depression, almost every other line is the refrain of “but I will rise.” This song is just as dark as any on the record, but we are left with a mantra of stubborn resilience, a call to rise above challenges, no matter how profound. If – like me – you like your messages of hope to be unvarnished and maybe even a little negatively motivated, then this song – and this album – are for you.

Best tracks: Using Again, Out of Babylon, Who I Am Ain’t Who I’ve Been, I Will Never Be Around, I Will Rise

CD Odyssey Disc 1918: Corb Lund

After four days on holiday with my lovely wife visiting friends, shopping and generally having a great time, returning to work today was a bit of an adjustment. Fortunately there is always music, and something to say about it.

Disc 1918 is…Songs My Friends Wrote

Artist: Corb Lund

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover? A cartoon depiction of Corb Lund and all the artists he covers on this album.

Usually at this time I make a joke or engage in a whimsical fantasy inspired by the cover art, but here I am just inspired by great friendship and love as depicted here. So no jokes, just that warm glow of looking at all these friends and being reminded of all the great ones I have as well.

How I Came To Know It: I just saw it sitting there in the record store and, recognizing a few of the songs, I became intrigued at how they would sound performed by Corb Lund. Intrigued enough to buy it, in fact.

How It Stacks Up: I have ten other studio albums by Corb Lund, but I have a bit of common law to rate – but not rank – albums where artists do just cover songs. I could break this rule at any time, of course. But not today.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Corb Lund is a likeable fellow to begin with, and the idea that he would take time out of the pandemic to record a bunch of songs by people he admires makes this record particularly easy to love. So, as much as the album cover had given me the warm feelies, the album’s premise had me even more predisposed to the amicable.

For those who aren’t familiar with Corb Lund, he’s a Canadian folk/country singer well known for spinning fine tales and free and easy melodies. He isn’t a vocal powerhouse, but he knows how to use his voice (and lyrics) to tell great stories. I was keen to see what he’d be like with someone else’s words and music coming out of him.

Turns out he does a mighty fine job of it indeed, and if you like the light hurt and natural mosey of Lund’s delivery then you’re going to like this experience just fine.

The record starts with a Hayes Carll song (“Highway 87”) one of two Lund does with his occasional collaborator (the other being “Little Rock”). These are both solid renditions, but don’t add a lot to the songs that is different from the originals. Also, I enjoy Hayes Carll’s voice as much as Corb Lund’s, so I didn’t feel like I was getting a new way of seeing a song I already knew.

Similarly, the two Ian Tyson covers were OK, but not a major shift from the Tyson originals. That was four of ten songs that were all solid, but that had me wishing for more.

Thankfully, more was very much to be found in the deeper cuts, starting with the inspired Geoff Berner song, “That’s What Keeps The Rent Down, Baby”. Berner’s song is a wry and socially aware tale of the impacts of a neighbourhood’s less savoury features on property values. Lund’s version has a great swing to it, and his vocals are a level above Berner’s, elevating the song and story alike.

It is a testament to Lund’s vocal talents that every one of these covers will have you swearing he wrote it if you didn’t know better. He’s got an imitable style that draws you in, and while he doesn’t range through multiple octaves, he sings with an effortless and engaging tone that just makes you believe him.

For example, you may prefer the more nasal warble of Fred Eaglesmith’s original for “Spookin’ the Horses” and that’s an honourable choice. I like it too, and extra points to Eaglesmith for writing the song, which is a masterclass in storytelling. For all that, I just found myself loving the earthier, fireside troubadour quality that Corb Lund brings to the song even more. He makes it his own, which is the sign of every great cover ever.

Lund is also naturally funny when he wants to be, which is helpful on the jumpy and very Canadian “Big American Headliner.” The song, written by Mike Plume, captures the dream held by most small Canadian artist at one time or another: to have a hit across the border. It is tongue-in-self-deprecating-cheek with a hint of painful truth, turning the anxiety of “are we ever gonna make it?” into a story of success (limited though it may be) on its own terms.

Just before sitting down to write this review I took a crash course in all of the original songs, which I am sure Corb would’ve wanted. He didn’t make this record to take away from his fellow songwriters – he made it to celebrate them.

I already knew half the songs, but I discovered the other half, and that was a big part of the fun. I didn’t love every song Lund curates here, nor did I find every original artist inspire me to dig deeper, but the journey was great, and there was plenty to recommend, delivered in a way that more often than not showcased the material in its best light.

Best tracks: That’s What Keeps the Rent Down Baby, Blue Wing, Spookin’ The Horses, Big American Headliner

CD Odyssey Disc 1914: Jenny Don't and the Spurs

For the second time in three weeks, we bring you an album review with bonus coverage of a live show. If you just like the studio experience, the first half of this entry will appeal, and if you only like concert reviews it will be the second half. Or just read the whole thing. Reading is good for you. You know this, or you would not even be here.

Disc 1914 is…Broken Hearted Blue

Artist: Jenny Don’t & the Spurs

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? Jenny rocks the cover with a determined look on her face that says, “see this guitar? I am going to rock your world with it.”

How I Came To Know It: I like a lot of artists that are signed to a label called Fluff & Gravy records (Alela Diane, Anna Tivel, Jeffrey Martin, Son of the Velvet Rat, Margo Cilker), so one day when I was cruising around their website I started looking into other artists that caught my eye. This was one of them. Turns out it caught my ear as well.

How It Stacks Up: Having just picked up another album at the merch table last night, I now have three Jenny Don’t & the Spurs albums. “Broken Hearted Blue” comes in first place.

Ratings: 4 stars

Don’t expect something easily quantifiable on a Jenny Don’t & the Spurs album. Their particular blend of cowpunk, surfer guitar and down-home old-time country isn’t easily categorized, but that’s part of its charm.

On “Broken Hearted Blue” the band takes a step or two further into the surf punk side of things than on previous releases, but they keep that complex mix intact overall.

The album does a tasteful job of keeping all the tracks even in the mix, and this lets your ear explore the soundscape of the band’s style as your whim determines.

My lyric-focused heart started off gravitating to Jenny’s vocals, which aren’t blow the doors down big, but have a magnetic tone, and are sneaky adaptable. This allows her to pull songs in different directions. She can hit a high “beer garden jamboree” in her head voice “You’re What I Need”, and a low but dangerous half-whisper in “Jealous Heart”, and her creativity allows a wide range of approaches to a song’s structure. Don’t was previously in a punk band, and like Frank Turner, she turns this experience into just the right amount of edge and danger to her singing when occasion demands.

Or maybe you’d prefer to follow along the surf/country stylings of lead guitarist Christopher March. If so, there are plenty of offerings on that front as well. The songs are short as befits the styles they draw from, but never so short that they can’t make time and space for the mood-setting coolness of a March solo. March plays with big round notes that evoke the vastness of an ocean wave or the back forty of a cattle ranch with equal aplomb.

My favourite song on the record is “Unlucky Love”, which has a bit of everything. It starts slow, with an almost eighties pop beat/bass line, then enter the surf guitar and finally the best of Jenny Don’t’s vocals you’ll find here or on any other record. On the opening lines of:

“I know it’s not me when you say you’re falling in love
I know it’s not me, it couldn’t be, I’m not the one”

She sounds vulnerable and sorrowful and ready to break your heart into a thousand pieces, but the later refrain of:

“I’m just a fool
Unlucky in love
at least I’m something”

You catch a resilience underneath that’s hard as steel.

As befits its title, “Broken Hearted Blue” has a lot of exploration of love lost, unrequited or simply rejected, but the record never feels maudlin or sorry for itself. There’s a strength here, reflected in the way the songs are structured, braided together like the strands of a steel cable, pliable but powerful.

This layered impact sneaks up on you. On my first listen, “Broken Hearted Blue” felt like a three-star record, and the junior partner to its more traditional sounding predecessor, 2021’s “Fire on the Ridge” but the more I listened the more it wrapped itself around me in all the right ways.

Best tracks: Pain in My Heart, Jealous Heart, Unlucky Love, Bones in the Sand

The Concert – Friday, April 3 at Lucky Bar, Victoria BC

I was pretty excited for this show, which I only found out about by chance when I saw a poster in the local record store. Given the short notice and niche sound, I thought this might appeal only to me, so I was much pleased to find both my gal and four friends all came along!

Lucky Bar is a small venue, but it is one of the better places to see a show in Victoria. The all-brick venue helps keep the sound from getting too hot, and while there isn’t much seating for us olds, if you get there early enough you can swing something. As it happens, we got there first and got the best seat in the house. Right on the edge of the dance floor, and in full view of the band. As the cowpunks say, “yeehaw!”.

Another note on the venue – two drinks cost me $12 with tip which is roughly half of what it costs at most other places. Kudos to you, Lucky Bar, for providing an affordable night out.

OK, on with the music.

Teenage Art Scene

The opening band was Teenage Art Scene. They were still doing their sound check when we arrived, and while this is not usually a good sign, it wasn’t their fault. If you are the first of two opening bands, you squeeze in stage time where you can and usually have to suffer through someone else’s sound board settings. Fret not – it’ll get better when you get higher on the bill.

As for the music, the sound was a bit muddy and I couldn’t understand any of the words of the songs. Again, likely not the band’s fault (see aforementioned sound check challenges).

They played well, although their style of music (somewhere between Weezer and Green Day) didn’t float my boat. They had some enthusiastic fans up front that danced like demons and chanted “one more song” when the set ended. That’s an impossibility for openers but I liked the energy.

My wife Sheila thought them good enough to buy both a t-shirt and a CD, so I look forward to hearing them the way they likely want to be heard.

The Projectors

Next up, were the Projectors – a Victoria band getting some local radio play I am told by those who listen to the radio (I do not).

Before I discuss the music, a big shout out to lead singer Dylan Rysstad who graciously sold me Jenny Don’t merch at the booth, including taking down the one medium band shirt left on the wall in the style I preferred. As it happens, that shirt was for display only because it had a sizeable hole in it, which I wouldn’t have even noticed until later except that Rysstad tracked me down in the audience, and arranged to get it exchanged for another one. Rock and roll is cool, but courtesy and honourable conduct are even cooler. Kudos!

As for the band, these guys played tight. Despite also be an opening band they were not muddy at all, and lead singer Rysstad has an easy natural phrasing to his delivery where you can hear every word clear as day.

The band’s music has a lot of sharp all-stops in the arrangements and they landed every one right on the beat. The music was (to borrow an observation from my friend Cat) a bit Interpol/Killers, and I would throw in a soupcon of Fabulous Thunderbirds for good measure.

Jenny Don’t & the Spurs

At last, we arrived at the main event. Jenny Don’t & the Spurs were one hell of a good time, and the free-flowing experience of a club or bar venue like Lucky is the perfect place to experience them. Jenny makes it feel like a party from the opening notes.

One of the challenges in a bar setting is catching the crowd’s attention, and early in the set I was mildly irritated by the low rumble of conversation going on in the back of the pub. This slowly died down through the set – not through anything I did, but because Jenny Don’t’s enthusiasm drew them in and shut them up with the best motivation there is – good music.

The sound was a bit overamped for the first couple of songs but they got this fixed quickly. Jenny’s vocals felt a bit low in the mix for my tastes, but the signature high peal when she’s at the top of her register cut through the mix like a revelation.

Jenny has a smile that is infectious. At one point she announced this was the band’s 999^th show, and while this showed in their mastery of the stage, the enthusiasm level made it feel like we were the only show that ever mattered to them or ever would; an illusion every live show should aspire to.

The setlist is exactly what I wanted, including two of my favourite songs (“Fire on the Ridge” and “Unlucky Love”) back to back.

The band played as a cohesive unit, balancing each other’s energy with the ease of seasoned professionals. On the left side of the stage the bass player was going absolutely off the hook, staring imperiously god into the audience like a rock god, and swinging his arm around like he was Pete Townsend. He was also a wizard on the bass, hands and fingers flying through a dizzying array of positions with an aggressive grace.

On the right, the guitar player hunkered down and played tasty licks with nary a stage move, but with just as much skill and artistry but less theatricality.

In between, Jenny bounced between the two energies, pulling everything together, occasionally pointing her guitar skyward like the cover of the album review above – a signature move that seemed to shout “c’mon on in – the party’s just getting started!”. She doubled down on the notion, toasting the audience with a beer throughout the show in an infectious way the venue likely appreciated with respect to bar sales.

It is at this point that I will sometimes gripe that the merch table doesn’t have enough medium t-shirts. That was true this time as well, but no gripe from me, because I was so well cared for. First by Dylan of the Projectors and later Jenny herself, swapping for another option for me, and apologizing for the mix up. She was as down to earth and approachable as anyone you’d meet, despite being about 30 minutes away from hitting the stage like a hurricane.

CD Odyssey Disc 1906: William Prince

I apologize the stretch between posts. This was a combination of a heavy work schedule and being out on Tuesday night at a concert when I’d ordinarily be at home writing.

On the plus side this means that we get a bonus concert review – it appears immediately below the end of this studio album review, as is traditional here at the Odyssey.

We also have a new streak to track: albums made by people named William. As of this next record it stands at two.

Disc 1906 is… Further From the Country

Artist: William Prince

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? The aforementioned Mr. Prince, looking contemplative against a backdrop of sunset and stars.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan of William Prince through his 2020 album “Reliever” (reviewed back at Disc 1476), and check in on his new albums when they arrive.

How It Stacks Up: I have two William Prince albums. Of those two, “Further From the Country” narrowly lands in second. No shame – I just liked “Reliever” slightly better.

Ratings: 3 stars

Life’s not fair. Some of us get our one and a half octaves of scratchy/dodgy tenor and some of us get the rich velvet baritone of William Prince. Fortunately, through the power of technology, that glorious voice can travel with us in our homes, cars and walks. I had this record going for a full week and enjoyed it in all three of those venues.

“Further from the Country” is aptly named, as Prince explores arrangements and approaches that feel more atmospheric and mystical than previous efforts. No doubt this is partly the influence of members of Boy Golden.

That said, the opening – and title – track had me nervous. It was a bit too meandering and atmospheric for my tastes, and I felt nervous that my beloved baritone troubadour would be drowned in a soup of production.

Alas, my fears were ill-founded as after that opening experimentation, Prince returns to a more well-trodden country foundation. Yes, it’s a thicker sound, and there’s a piano rounding things out, but the tunes still have their foundational bones in back roads and pickup trucks, just as I like it.

The songs have the usual introspective qualities of William Prince’s earlier work, many focusing on exploring memories of his father, or just earlier wilder times. The songs don’t celebrate that wildness but rather seek redemption for any hurt caused along the way.

The best song for this (and my favourite on the album) is “All the Same” which starts with this heartbreaking scene:

“I had a good friend
Life cut short by his own hand
Everybody but his old man
Seemed so surprised

“He was a younger man than I
Didn’t think to say goodbye
Now the last time that we spoke’s the last time.”

Hard words, but Prince has a talent for taking on hard subjects – suicide, substance abuse, violence – and giving them grace and a safe place to explore from. It isn’t sugar coated, and lines like “and my hand’s messed up/from a fight I had to finish” shows that it ain’t ever as simple as just saying, “don’t do that”. Life’s complicated, but forgiveness is there if look for it.

The other standout is “The Charmer” a song dedicated to Prince’s father, a gregarious fellow who right to the end was even charming the hospital nurses. The love is evident, and the gentle, meaningful ways that Prince explores loss – supercharged with the velvet power of a voice – is transformative.

There are some songs I didn’t love. As noted above, the opener was too diffuse and unfocused for me, and “Thousand Miles of Chain” felt like a song that didn’t know what it wanted to be, but these are minor quibbles. Overall, another fine record from an artist who still has the magic in both his voice and pen.

Best tracks: For the First Time, All the Same, Damn, The Charmer

The Concert: March 2, 2026 at the Royal Theatre, Victoria BC

I always enjoy a show at the beautiful Royal Theatre, and we were particularly excited (thanks to Sheila’s excellent selection) to have seats right on a break between rows, leaving plenty of legroom. Mostly, though I was excited to see not one, but two artists I like, having just found out earlier in the week that the opener was Boy Golden (his previous release, “For Jimmy” was my #1 album of 2023 (Disc 1699)).

Boy Golden

Boy Golden took to the stage with the self-possessed dignity of a band that knew they would own it, and did not disappoint. My previous time seeing them there was a jubilant slightly manic feel to the performance. That energy was still present, but it had softened around the edges and their ability to hold the crowd in more subtle ways was on display.

The band played a short but well-structured set that included old favourites from previous records, but focused on their new material which was, according to frontman and creative force Liam Duncan, “mostly bangers”. Sure.

The guitarist (name escapes me) played with a sublime softness in his tone that suited the blend of country wisdom and grass-stained feel of many of the songs (n.b. – not the kind of grass you lie down on). He had three guitars and one had an incredibly large whammy bar. I know it’s not about the size of your whammy bar, but how artfully you pull on it, but still, just sayin’. It was large.

The drummer (apologies – again missed her name) was well loved by the audience and had a set of pipes on her she showed off in two songs (one as a lead, one as a duet). She played portions with brushes that leaned into the soft and rounded feel of the guitar.

I was sad to see Boy Golden off so early (the fate of all openers) and much as I love William Prince, if I’d had my druthers I’d have swapped headliner and opener.

William Prince

When William Prince came on stage there was a prolonged period where the stage was black and ambient music played and it all felt very psychedelic rock and roll for what was, ultimately, a country show. I kinda liked it, and it primed the crowd and made sure everyone was paying attention.

Including himself, Prince fronts a seven-member band which is a lot of members for someone who isn’t, you know, Prince. One more band member and Canadian law would have required all the songs to be played as ska.

The set list was exactly the right mix of new and old, and if anything I enjoyed the records off the new album better live than on CD, which is always a good sign. (If Neil Young had been there, he’d have moved a motion that “live music is better” bumper stickers be issued. IYKYK…

New album highlight was the song “The Charmer” in honour of his father, and he gave the audience (including me) what they wanted with the old favourite, “The Spark”. I would have liked him to work “The Gun” into the set, which is one of my old faves, but a concert should always leave you wanting more.

During the encore the audience (many of whom were clearly veterans of Prince’s live shows) shouted out tunes, and to my surprise he agreed to play one – “Goldie Hawn”. I’m pretty sure it was improvised, partly because he briefly jumped a verse, before correcting himself with an impish smile that shows he has inherited no small part of the “charmer” from his father.

Prince has a truly thankful and humble quality to him that draws you in and makes you feel he’s as happy to be there as you are.

As for the crowd, they were one of the best crowds I’ve spent an evening with in some time. They were thoroughly engrossed in the show, gave great feedback and were careful to not be disruptive of other people’s good times while having theirs (one woman stood up in front of people during “The Spark” but it was one song only and she was really excited to hear it, so we shall give her a pass).

Best of all, there were nary a cell phone raised anywhere in my vision. Apart from a few discrete pictures people were there to engage with the music directly, not prove later on Tik Tok they’d been there. Awesome, and something for us all to learn from.

Sheila and I talked to the folks sitting near us, all of whom loved William Prince a lot - one couple had seen him seven times. All crowds should be this great.

The merch table was also solid, with a good selection of shirts n’ stuff. One guy sitting nearby said to me “that stuff is all garbage” but he was speaking generally of merch tables, not this merch table. Also, he was wrong. It’s another way to support the band, mister and also keeps me from being denied service at local restaurants for want of a shirt.

Overall, this was a fine show, with two great acts, both of whom I’d seen before, and both of whom I would see again.

CD Odyssey Disc 1903: Courtney Marie Andrews

The streak of albums alternating between obscure metal and indie folk/country is now up to six.

How does that happen, you ask? It’s random. Identifying a pattern is just a thing that makes your brain feel better, and maybe generate a little small talk in the teaser section.

Disc 1903 is… Old Flowers

Artist: Courtney Marie Andrews

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover? Courtney looks cold in this picture, and maybe a little miffed. Like the photographer has taken her out to the foothills and over several hours had her pose, trying to get the perfect shot.

So much time has gone by that it’s now dark, and so she’s just said “fine – the next one is it, and let’s go back to town!” as the photographer futzes with some lighting equipment he’s haphazardly pulled out of the back of the Jeep.

Alternative viewers may see a different tale. Perhaps Courtney and her partner have earlier murdered a hitchhiker on a lonely stretch of road. All the hitchhiker had was $23 in loose bills and an iPhone 6 with no minutes on it, and Courtney is pretty upset with the take, not leastwise because she only got $11 of it.

They’ve been digging a grave just off the road since the late afternoon and it has fallen dark. Courtney thinks the hole is deep enough given the isolated location. Her partner has insisted going down a couple more feet just to be sure the coyotes don’t dig him up.

In both scenarios Courtney is cold and would like to go back to town but doing it right – whether it’s a photo shoot or a murder scene – takes time.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve been a fan of Courtney Marie Andrews since she released her 2016 masterpiece, “An Honest Life” (see review back at Disc 1081). When she releases a new album I tend to buy it, and that’s what’s happened here.

How It Stacks Up: I have six Courtney Marie Andrews albums (I just picked up her 2026 record, “Valentine” this weekend). “Old Flowers” ranks at #2.

Ratings: 4 stars

The worst thing about Courtney Marie Andrews’ voice is that you can only experience it for the first time once. “Old Flowers” was my fourth album by her, and that ship had long sailed. However, even after many years and many albums, there is still no way to fully prepare to hear her sing. Each and every time it is revelatory.

After a bit of extra production on “May Your Kindness Remain” “Old Flowers” has a sound closer to “An Honest Life” and this is a good thing. The songs are simple and sparsely arranged, and perfect vehicles for delivering Andrew’s vocals. Soft and sweet, with a controlled quaver and hurt for days, Andrews has a voice that makes you stop what you are doing, turn your ears to the stereo in a slow and deliberate way and fall forward into the experience.

At its heart, the secret is vulnerability. Andrews sings like she’s experiencing heartbreak for the first time. The miracle is that somehow this wholly committed emotional journey has a wisdom in it you would associate with someone much older. She’s a reminder that when life isn’t a thing that washes over you, its something you immerse yourself in – become part of – and that’s a good thing.

The album is aptly named, with the imagery of flowers featuring on many tracks. “Burlap String” starts the record off, situating us in a small west coast town with a moseying country-styled guitar strum. Like a lot of Andrews’ songs, this one is the end of a relationship. It’s a song of reconciliation, though, as she muses:

“If I could go back now
I'd pick you wildflowers
Tie 'em in burlap string
Tell you what you mean to me”

It’s not a rekindling of the relationship – that’s over –it’s regret of the missed opportunities to express love when it was new and fresh.

Fast forward to the title track, and the theme has shifted, but the flowers have remained. The wistful guitar strum is replaced with the purposeful rhythm of heavy piano chords and snare drum. This one is a slow and sorrowful march. The refrain “you can’t water old flowers” reflects the other side of a neglected and unkind relationship which is over. “Burlap String” has a kindness to it. “Old Flowers” isn’t cruel, but it is resolute. It is bags-packed and walking out the door feeling good about something for the first time in years.

These are just two songs, and while you won’t find flowers featuring in every song, you will find a bouquet of hurt and wisdom at every turn. Andrews has a generational voice, and she deploys it with an easy grace. Listening pulls you into yourself, pushes you into the innermost places where your guard is down, and shows you the beauty you’ve been hiding from yourself in there.

“Old Flowers” came out in July 2020, at a time when most of us were locked in our houses, the pandemic deepening, and wondering what would come next. Andrews’ answer is simple – we’ll never know what comes next, or what cruel or capricious turns await us on life’s road, but one thing we do know – there’s always love.

Best tracks: Burlap String, Guilty, If I Told, Old Flowers, Break the Spell, How You Get Hurt