Underrated excellence
Ryan Adams Prisoner Universal
FROM the days when he exploded out of North Carolina with the alt-country band Whiskeytown to his steady growth into one of America’s great songwriters, Ryan Adams has always floated just below superstar status. If it’s possible to be underrated through years of sustained excellence, he has pulled it off.
But the excellence continues on Prisoner, a fine collection of fresh songs and new takes on heartache that demonstrates as much mastery as anything Adams has done. It matches surprising melodies with brilliant arrangements and affecting, urgent lyrics, reminding listeners that this is a craftsman who turns just about everything he touches into gold.
Adams’ fans will recognise the vibe. There are the fingerpicked electric guitar trills set against a backdrop of jangly acoustic power-chord strumming. There’s the same harmonica he’s been carrying around at least since Cold Roses, now more than a decade old.
His familiar blend of muscle and vulnerability sparkles on Do You Still Love Me? And when Adams, on Shiver And Shake, sings, “I reach out for your hand but I know it isn’t there,” it feels like he’s practically bleeding.
If there is a flaw here it lies in familiarity – Adams is hardly venturing beyond his comfort zone. But when you are this good that’s not a significant problem.
Better to sit back and appreciate a songwriter at the peak of his evocative power, with plenty to sing about and the command to bring it home with authority. – Scott Stroud/ AP
Elbow
Little Fictions Universal
LESS, it turns out, is more for the British band Elbow. On their seventh studio album, the art-rockers have lost a founding member, but the music they deliver is some of the best they’ve made in years.
Little Fictions, Elbow’s first CD since 2014’s The Take Off And Landing Of Everything, has typical band touches – a swelling orchestra, the unmistakably smoky voice of Guy Garvey, and some moderately depressing lyrics – but it’s easily one of the band’s most accessible.
That may be due to a major change in their engine room. This is Elbow’s first release as a four-piece group, following the departure of drummer Richard Jupp, and that has resulted in some airy, electronic beats at the heart of many songs. It’s the closest you can be to dancing to an Elbow record.
The change means the band members have finally gotten out of their own way, allowing their blend of dreamy, romantic craftsmanship to go wherever it wants to, without judgment. “What does it prove if you die for a tune/Don’t you know it’s all disco,” Garvey triumphantly sings in one song.
Among the standout songs are the gorgeously layered Magnificent (She Says), the hypnotic Firebrand & Angel and the sparse, needy masterpiece Gentle Storm. Sure, there are some overindulgent, bombastic tunes. But Elbow seems rejuvenated. Might other bands find creative freedom by jettisoning a bandmate? Why do bassists across the country suddenly look so nervous? – Mark Kennedy/ AP