Approximately a year after the release of his solo debut, "Heartbreaker," Ryan Adams is back on the scene with his new double album, "Gold."
Adams, not to be confused with the '80s rocker Bryan Adams, was first noted on the music scene as a member of the country band Whiskeytown. Adams' style spans the musical spectrum including tunes reminiscent of Bob Dylan, David Gray and The Counting Crows while not abandoning his country rock roots of his early days with Whiskeytown.
In an interview with Rolling Stone, Adams described the split subject matter of "Gold."
"The first disk is about all these things that were kind of happening in my life, leaving New York. A really great overview of, 'OK what really fuckin' happened here?' The second disc is kind of like L.A. 'What's going on here?' It's going to be this travelogue but I think it's going to make sense."
Unfortunately, it doesn't really make sense. While songs like "New York, New York" are catchy, they are shallow and only superficially address a lost love in New York. Although the chorus, "Hell, I still love you New York," reminds me of the cotton theme song, it is a memorable line and is particuarly effective in light of the recent World Trade Center tragedies. Still, I'm not really hearing the travelogue.
Part of the fault with "Gold" is its structure. There are 16songs on the first album, all examining experiences in New York City. On the second album, which is titled "Side 4," there are only five songs that address life in L.A. It seems that the travelogue is a little incomplete.
At his best, with songs like "La Cienega Just Smiled," Adams presents a pleasant pre-bedtime soudtrack -- when it is time to grab a cup of tea, put on a sweatshirt and get started on that late-night English paper. This song, like several others on the album, would fit remarkably well with a classic chick flick, the protagonist walking down a Manhattan street.
Adams was aware of this tendency for melodrama, and actually, according to Rolling Stone, originally had other plans for the album's title.
"The first name I had for it when I did the demos was 'The Suicide Handbook' because all the songs are really totally sad," Adams said. "I figured you'd get halfway through one disk and then that would be the end."
He added, "I actually trashed all of the [songs] I thought were self-serving and self-victimizing."
Unfortunately, Adams seemed to have missed a few.
There are songs on the album that are somewhat refreshing, like "Firecracker," which break this sweep of sadness by incorporating Adams' jovial country-rock side suggestive of Whiskeytown.
While Bob Dylan's influence on the young artist is particularly obvious in tracks like the nine-minute "Nobody's Girl," the father of "Blood on the Tracks" would have had the better judgment to cut this one down to five minutes at most.
"Sweet Black Magic," found on "Side 4," comes out of nowhere. You can virtually smell the corncob pipe in this bluegrass tune, and I think it is the banjo that ultimately throws me off.
To his fortune, Adams has not been isolated from the musically elite. But then it probably helps to have a producer like Ethan Johns, son to the legendary producer Glyn Johns (The Rolling Stones, The Who). Johns made a couple of cameos at Adams' studios and helped out by listening to playbacks and offering support. Yet many other noteworthy guests have also frequented Adams' studios and offered support on "Gold." This list includes Counting Crows lead-singer Adam Duritz, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers keyboardist Benmont Tench, drummer Jim Kelner, pianist Richard Causon and bassist Jennifer Condos.
These cameos could not save the album. The main problem with "Gold" is that there is no flare. There is not one track that is memorable enough to play again. While the songs are all tolerable, there is nothing in them that gets me riled in the way good music should. Adams' latest is clearly more closely related to copper and bronze than it is to Gold.
CD courtesy of The Dartmouth Bookstore