Listening Session: Ryan Adams and Destroyer

Ryan Adams, Cardinology (Lost Highway Records)

The fun of this limited edition LP is in the packaging: cool red vinyl, a bonus 7-inch single and lyrics in the form of a comic book by the same artist who designed the primitive gothic cover. The first side of the album is pretty fun too, with Adams in terrific voice and The Cardinals providing great support. But the album flags considerably on the second side. It gets pretty glum. As talented as Adams is, the thing that keeps me from completely embracing him is his self-absorbed melancholy. I'm sure he doesn't give a shit what I or anyone else thinks; he'll keep doing what he wants to do. And that's what keeps me interested. He's going full speed with no brakes, barely any steering, and lots of passion (or could it just be the amphetamines?) In Adams' world there seems to be no difference between good songs and bad songs. He chews through it all as if his life depended on it. (Editor's note: I'm not sure how true that last sentence is since he announced his retirement recently.)

Destroyer, Your Blues (Scratch Records) 

Another songwriter who's pursuing his own thing is Dan Bejar of Destroyer and sometimes of the New Pornographers. Whereas Ryan Adams clearly works in the country-rock genre ("alt" is a key on the keyboard and a meaningless prefix to describe a musical genre), it's not clear what genre Dan Bejar works in. But there's no mistaking a Destroyer album for any other. He's strongly influenced by Hunky Dory-era Bowie, but doesn't share Bowie's adherence to basic rock and blues song structure. I guess "chamber pop" comes closest to describing the music on Your Blues. And what to make of the lyrics? They're surreal, but on the edge of being meaningful and even profound. Your Blues is one of the few recent pop albums I've listened to that's free of cliche, musically and lyrically. It's also one of the prettiest pop albums I've heard in a long time (in a minor key kind of way).

The sound quality of both albums is way above normal for modern pop-rock recordings.

Listening Session: Bruce Springsteen, Tunnel of Love

I became a music fan because of Bruce Springsteen. Having never heard of him, I felt compelled to buy Darkness on the Edge of Town because of the record cover and the album title. I was lifted by the songs and enthralled by Springsteen's grand vision of ordinary life. The wild romaticism and the mythic quality of his songs were just the antidote needed by a 15-year-old growing up in a boring suburban town. Springsteen told me life is bigger than this. I believed him. I bought all his albums and a few bootlegs as well.

I picked up Tunnel of Love when it came out in 1987. I thought it was an okay album and quickly forgot about it. It was also the last Springsteen album I bought. Twenty years later, it's the Springsteen album I listen to the most. What's remarkable about the album is its smallness. Gone is the larger-than-life mythic vision. What's left is humility. It's the most un-Springsteen Springsteen album, more so than Nebraska, which turns out to have been a precursor to his more recent pursuit of a different kind of American myth. Tunnel of Love plays like a public declaration of divorce and apology, as the sense of a dissolving relationship seeps through the album. It can be a fairly uncomfortable listen, as if you're eavesdropping on a private conversation, thinking he's being too honest. It wasn't surprising to hear about his pending divorce soon after the album's release. Tunnel of Love is easily his most personal album and one of his best. In hindsight. 

Sound Quality: Most Springsteen albums don't have the sonic qualities that excite audiophiles. They sound muddy.  I seem to recall that this was on purpose, which makes sense for songs that harken back to old-fashioned rock and roll listened to on an AM radio. Tunnel of Love is an exception. It possesses near reference quality sonics. The dead wax shows Sterling as the source of the mastering and the liner notes credit Bob Ludwig as the mastering engineer, one of the best in the business. The dead wax also has a DMM stamp. Direct Metal Mastering cuts out a step in the record-making process, which usually results in a better sounding record. The end result is a transparency to the recording that contributes to the sense of intimacy created by the music and the lyrics.