Saturday, August 25, 2007

CD Review: "Easy Tiger"


I was introduced to Ryan Adams through the persistent amorous protestations of a certain friend of mine who insisted that I have all three of the mix tapes she'd made me of both Whiskeytown and Mr. Adams' solo work. I have to admit, that after exploring the full albums of some of the songs Molly had included on the mixes, I had really received a sort of greatest hits collection with better track ordering than anything a label would have put together.

My personal Ryan Adams history aside, I recently picked up a copy of Adams' latest outing, "Easy Tiger," a strong album that remains firmly planted in the alt-country/rock niche that made Adams famous in the first place. The album is certainly lacking in some areas, but produces some excellent tracks that probably would have found their way into the aforementioned faux-greatest hits. Anyone who knows Ryan Adams at all knows about his highly publicized (and musically announced) troubles with both the drinkables and the smokables. Apparently, having kicked the monkey off the hipster cowboy hat slung jauntily over his shoulder, Adams released this disc of familiar musical settings coupled with surprisingly forward-looking lyrics, something short of a miracle for an artist who was so recently wallowing in his own musical mucky muck, exuding countrified despair and popping out now and then for infamously hit-and-miss live shows. However, his new-found personal triumphs seem to have taken something out of Adams' lyrical skills. I always found it incredible that this man could work such complex metaphors and pseudo-cliches into a sub-genre that often had a hard time treading the thin line between it's country/western roots and it's indie attitudes. On this project, Ryan Adams seems to have chosen to err on the side of cliched lyrics and simply maintain his incredible musical integrity, occasionally floating recycled lyrics over a great foundation of varied song forms and tight backing instrumentation.

My favorite cuts so far are tracks 1, 3, 5 and 9, with the latter being a real gem of a song, old-timey (a la anything from "O Brother Where Art Thou?") yet straying from anything that might be misconstrued as trying too hard to recreate or mock the style. Ryan Adams owns this song and the style of playing music it represents. Simply produced with mandolin, banjo, guitar and superb vocal harmonies, this track breaks up the somewhat monotonous string of cookie cutter alt-country tracks Adams seems to have rolled of the production line.

Songs like "Rip Off," (how ironic...) "Two Hearts" and the low-point of the album for me, "Off Broadway," kind of beat the listener into an indie-hick stupor, waiting for something new to come along. And of course, something new does come along, but it doesn't take away from the sheer miss factor of some of the tracks. I literally had to fast forward through "Off Broadway" for fear of putting my foot through my iBook. I applaud Mr. Adams for really trying to do something with musical motifs, but there comes a point where I can't listen to one more "I don't know where that is...anymore..." without wanting to drive out, find the boy and give him a map so he can find whatever it is and shut up about it already.

Though some of the verse lyrics are a bit trite, the opening cut, "Goodnight Rose," has some really great musical pizzazz that really sets the tone for the album. Even though I have to cringe every time I hear, "who knows, maybe we'll win the whole shebang," Adams nails the repetitive title of the song that forms the chorus, I certainly found myself singing along by the end of the first listen. Track number 5, "Oh My God, Whatever, Etc.," really caught my attention with its near-explicit description of people having sex next door in a seedy hotel and really lovely guitar work. One gets the impression that, if this really was personal experience for Ryan Adams, he was struck by the sort of sadness and shame that paralled his own story. "If I could fold myself away like a card table, a concertina or a Murphy bed I would, but I wasn't made that way."

In the end, "Easy Tiger" feels like a transitional album for Ryan Adams. He doesn't seem to feel fully comfortable in his new, sober(er) life and this translates into his music. He is still Ryan Adams and still has a powerful command of the genre that he has really taken to its limits, but seems to have found himself on the edge of going into even more uncharted territory and can't quite decide who he wants to be when he takes that leap.

Friday, August 24, 2007

CD Review: "The Reminder"


As a newbie when it comes to the (apparently) wide world of Canadian indie-pop superstars, Feist would probably be at the top of my list (if I was to have one) of people to study in depth in my research of the music of the Great White North. After hearing about the release and success of Ms. Leslie's newest album more than a few times on several NPR podcasts, I decided it was time to start my Feist-ian homework.

...and I was not disappointed. This album, "The Reminder," is quite frankly, one of the best overall albums I've come across in recent history. Where it lacks in consistency, it makes up for in quality and sheer depth of sound. With the longest track on the album clocking in at around 4:30, it's hard to believe the palette of colors Feist manages to utilize in each of these cuts. Most of the numbers float along at Leslie Feist's usual lilting manner, but a couple of the tracks reach out and smack you around a bit, letting you know (if you didn't know already) that this woman is a force to be reckoned with.

The standout track is undoubtedly the pseudo-spiritual rendition of the Nina Simone classic, "Sea Lion Woman." Opening with frantic handclaps, gospel backing and noodly synth sounds, this recording truly jumps out and dances around a bit as compared to the quiet, ultra-downtempo-groove feel of the previous track, "The Water." The sonic quality of most of this album gives the impression that Ms. Feist is sitting at a piano in a big church sanctuary somewhere in snow-bound Canada, singing into an old 8-track recorder. (One does wish that the vocals would have a little variation in the tonal quality sometimes, but the sound is at least very consistent on this album and anything but unpleasant.) The distorted guitar and bombastic drums on the track give it even more of a homemade sensation that tends to make me clap along every time it pops up on ye olde iTunes randomizer.

"The Park" and "I Feel it All" also stand out, each giving something that is both completely unexpected and yet perfectly cohesive with the rest of the album. "The Park" contains some truly amazing lyrics that carry powerful weight despite the simplicity of the metaphors. Again, the song benefits from excellent track placement, sliding in sidewise, feet first, into "The Water." "I Feel it All" has a great coasting-with-the-windows-down drive that lays a nice bed for some neat melodic tidbits (check out the line "I'll be the one who'll break my heart, I'll be the one to hold the gun, I love you more..." It's been stuck in my head for weeks). Track 9, "1234," wanders into Sufjan Stevens territory with its banjos and jaunty horn sections, but still manages to pull off some characteristic Canadian word play. (Or is it number play?)

The only thing that didn't quite meet the bar this album set for itself was that some of the later tracks become a little tedious for the close listener. As chillout music, this album is great, but around track 11, ("Intuition"), I started skipping ahead a lot. The remixes featured on the iTunes download were a little disappointing as well, but most listeners will be happy just to have that little bit more from this great album.

After such a great introduction to Feist with "The Reminder," I can't wait to explore her work further and find more gems like the ones I discovered on this great album.