25. “Let It Ride” by Ryan Adams (2005)

“Moving like the fog on the Cumberland River, I was leaving on the Delta Queen, and I wasn't ready to go -- I'm never ready to go. Twenty-seven years of nothing but failures and promises that I couldn't keep, oh lord, I wasn't ready to go -- I'm never ready to go. Let it ride, Let it ride easy down the road.”

It’s been a long decade for Ryan Adams. It seems like a long time ago that he was a flavor of the month sitting in front of the twin towers, being perceived a grief monger and singing about his favorite city. It’s even longer since Whiskeytown broke up and Adams took off and released an album filled with mini-classics. Since then, he’s been lauded as a semi-genius and a wunderkind, or derided as a hump, a brat, an actress-shagging drug addict, a narcissistic blogger and a thief.

“Loaded like a sailor tumbling off a ferry boat, I was at the bar till three. Oh Lord, I wasn't ready to go -- I'm never ready to go. Tennessee's a brother to my sister Carolina. Where they're gonna bury me? I ain't ready to go -- I'm never ready to go. Let it ride, let it ride easy down the road.”

For whatever reason, the guy has a hard time sorting things out. He hates our vapid celebrity-obsessed culture, but he seems to feed it with his public spats with other rock stars, late-night phone calls to radio stations and the absurd need to answer criticism with long, rambling Phil Lesh-style missives.

Which brings us to the next point: there is no use in trying to figure out what the hell goes on with the guy. Anyone I know who has met him says he’s wacky and charming and out there and hilarious. He’s a self-professed comic book geek, a crazy Merge Records fan, an Oasis-freak, a Slayer fan and someone that, frankly, seems to need tons of loving attention, for whatever reason. I mention all of this only because many people’s view of Adams seems to stem from a decade’s worth of tantrums and stupid news items that in the end mean nothing. Adams will tell you that it’s all about the art, maaan -- that in the end, as a music fan, isn’t that all that really matters? I sometimes draw the line (and raise a middle finger) when he goes into a 20-minute version of “LA Woman” at Roseland or when he shows up crazy late to a show in Tribeca, wasted, with Minnie Driver, and claims to have had all sorts of issues getting a taxi. But in the end, he’s kicked serious ass in most of the live shows I’ve seen and he’s given us an encyclopedia’s worth of incredibly great tunes. The peripheral drama is amusing for a short period of time, but I stopped caring about that stuff after he stopped killing me with “fuck you to the record company” releases like 2003s Rock n Roll.

The truth is, it is impossible to complain about Adams’ output this decade – 11 LPs, if you include Whiskeytown’s Pneumonia. Hell, in 2005 alone, he released 3 full albums, one of them a double LP. You can pick things apart and criticize this or that, but the art (maaaan) does stand on its own. And after the aforementioned abomination that was Rock n Roll he returned a year later with Cold Roses, a double album filled with Grateful Dead-inspired jams, that, for the first time since Heartbreaker did not feel like he was aping someone else, but instead trying to find the middle ground between Black Flag, Gram Parsons, The Dead, The Smiths and Oasis. Since that time -- not coincidentally this was the same time he started playing with The Cardinals -- his music has seemed very comfortable with what it is and I love Cold Roses for that reason.

The most common complaint with Adams is that he needs an editor. Springsteen and Petty, for example, are very fond of reminding us that they have hundreds of songs that were worthy of some album, just not the ones they ended up releasing. People think that if Adams took some time to craft a proper album with a common theme, the overall product would be better. But it’s clear that he doesn’t work this way. His process, the one that has brought us TONS of great songs, is to write songs and immediately put them to tape, capturing the vibe of five guys in a room. There are some relative clunkers on each of his records, but in the end, has anyone this decade written and recorded a larger volume of high-quality songs as Adams? You could say that Jack White has and certainly Conor Oberst has matched Adams in terms of sheer volume of releases, but that’s pretty good company, I think.

All of this leads us to the final fact that I had to choose one of his songs for this list and it’s a nearly impossible task, except that I could all but eliminate many of the songs that he wrote that seemed to simply be tributes to his heroes. To wit:

“Damn Sam I Love a Woman That Rains” – Bob Dylan

“So Alive” – The Smiths

“Magnolia Mountain” – Grateful Dead

“Answering Bell” – Van Morrison

“La Cienga Just Smiled” – Elton John

“New York, New York” – Hootie and The Blowfish

“Beautiful Sorta” – New York Dolls

“Tears of Gold” – Neil Young

“Chelsea Hotel Nights” – Prince

“Sweet Illusions” – Chris Isaacs

“A Kiss Before I Go” – Hank Williams

“Tina Toledo’s Street Walkin’ Blues” – Rolling Stones

“Halloweenhead” -- Weezer

I’m left with 300 other songs, but “Let it Ride” is Adams distilling all of these influences into one tune with great lyrics, great playing and a great melody…and what else is there? Check it out here and tell me you don’t agree.

Most Awesome: Ryan Adams

She Hate Me muses on <<<< this guy.

Our favorite self-mythologizer recently released a statement saying he is retiring from music and blogging.  The former, we kinda care about – we’d like The Cardinals to keep the muhfuckin' rock coming.  The muthafuckin' ROCK, we say. The latter is news only in the sense that it’s a giant fucking relief.  The problem with Senor Adams is that he is almost impossible to like or dislike based on his musical output alone.  There’s just so much Gawker-style nonsense that goes on outside of the records he releases.  (He is now engaged to Mandy Moore, for example.  You read that right.  We can’t wait for the breakup album.)

Some cats saw his video of “New York, New York” shoved down our throats after 9/11 and called him out as a gigantic hump (we didn’t).  Some have seen him play a 30-minute version of “L.A. Woman” at The Roseland and responded with a 30 minute hoisting of the middle finger (we did).  Let’s just say that we understand why Paul Westerberg can’t stand this dude.  Why does he whine so? Why does he record rap songs?   Why does he blog about satellites and Mars and diet coke and Slayer?  Why do I know how many speedballs he did at HiFi with Parker Posey in 2003?  Why the fuck did Brownies ever shut down in the first place?  Goddammit.  

Himself actually spoke to Adams outside of the Bowery Ballroom, sharing a cigarette and discussing some Discovery Channel show about satellites while Adams giggled like a schoolboy and Himself's ass got all wet from sitting on the sidewalk in the rain. This says more about Himself than Adams, as one of them was too drunk to think to stand under something. What an asshole!

There will be no answers to our questions about Adams and yet, the guy has like 30+ classic, classic tunes in his catalogue at this point.  If he could avoid stabbing himself and us in the eyeball every now and then, he might not be regarded as a one-man humpstrumental.   That’s his perogative though, I guess.  Chuck Klosterman is inclined to think that he’s an underrated semi-genius and we are inclined to agree with 80% of the things Klosterman says.  Ergo, Ryan Adams is 80% semi-genius, 20% hump.  Cheers, Ryan.  You’ve made it. 

 

Live Review: Oasis & Ryan Adams at Madison Square Garden, NYC 12/17/2008

This week it's another review from She Hate Me, and another incredibly awesome fucking show, apparently:

This show reminded me of the Pearl Jam MSG show this past June.  You are as impressed by the large nature of these songs – the “big” sound, the anthems, the sing-alongs, the fact that everyone knows every word to many of the songs – as you are surprised by those same things.  In many ways, this is a function of getting old.  All the sudden, it’s 14 years since “Definitely Maybe” effectively stole rock n roll back from Seattle.  And in that time, Oasis has had one great creative spurt (Definitely Maybe, What’s the Story, Morning Glory and Be Here Now, as well as The Masterplan b-sides LP), one prolonged burn out (1998-2004) and another creative resurgence (the last two records). 

So, it’s been a while since many of us have really rocked out to “Slide Away”, but not that long since we’ve listened to “Lyla” on our monthly playlists.  And so while the latter impressed with the fact that it has become a proper anthem unto itself (even hardcore Oasis fans can’t help but feel that, although the last two albums have been quite good, Oasis is somewhat irrelevant – at least in the U.S. -- in the grand scheme of things), the former completely blew you away with the things that made you love Oasis in the first place – the hooks, the sneer, the non-stop references to alcohol, the lead guitar riffs and, most of the all, the chorus.  By the time they got to “Supersonic” you had already adjusted to the early 90s flashbacks and were just enjoying these songs for what they were – drunken anthems that neatly bundled the best of The Jam, The Beatles, The Stones and The Smiths.  But what makes the new songs so refreshing is that Oasis has actually stopped aping their heroes and developed a sound unique to themselves.

I find it very natural that the opening act, the superb Ryan Adams, took a similar path to the same place – not in the sense that his songs take you back to 1994, but in the sense that his most recent record seems to effectively encapsulate all the great sounds he has aped over the years – the garage rock of the Strokes, the twang of Gram Parsons, the sad sack posturing of Morrissey and the give and take guitar licks of The Dead.  Adams’ new record is not necessarily his best, but when it all comes together as it did last night on “Fix It”, it is probably as good as anything he has done.  And while we would all prefer seeing Adams destroy The Town Hall like he did a few years back, having to fill out expanses of The Garden served him well. 

He was forced to amp up The Cardinals and marry up their soft rock / Dead-style vibe with the treble we saw on “Rock n Roll”.  The result was a very loud, very rocking show that was also very measured and very much in control.  By the time he got to “Come Pick Me Up” – with the pedal steel replacing the harmonica and Adams’ band gelling as well as any time I have heard it since 2001 – he had whipped through the best songs from the new LP and impressed the whole way through.  He made them sound different, but distinguishable and he took away the soft-rock and replaced it with a mean edge that has come to define The Cardinals in the live setting.  It could have been an incredible set, obviously, if he had two hours and chose to play the hits, but instead it was just an excellent set of new songs, with some really great moments thrown in.  He rocked out The Garden, nuff said.

When Oasis took the stage and ripped through the aforementioned new album and the old hits, they did it with the same trademark swagger that they had the first time I saw them in 1996.  They always seem like they are singing to 100,000 people, whether it’s at the Aragon Ballroom or Madison Square Garden or Knebworth.  That’s what makes them so great – the songs soar, they don’t end, Noel keeps playing, he keeps hooking you back in…and Liam just stands there the whole time.  The whole formula works so well and it made for a great night that was not as much nostalgic as it was fun.  For all their absurd rock star attitude, Oasis lacks pretension – they are what they are and they do it well. 

Great time all around at The Garden last night.

Ryan Adams Setlist

Cobwebs

Crossed Out Name

Everybody Knows

Fix It

Off Broadway

Go Easy

Sink Ships

Natural Ghost

Come Pick Me Up

Magick

Oasis Setlist

Rock 'n' Roll Star

Lyla

The Shock Of The Lightning

Cigarettes & Alcohol

The Meaning Of Soul

To Be Where There's Life

Waiting For The Rapture

The Masterplan

Songbird

Slide Away

Morning Glory

Ain't Got Nothin'

The Importance Of Being Idle

I'm Outta Time

Wonderwall

Supersonic

Encore:

Don't Look Back In Anger

Falling Down

Champagne Supernova

I Am The Walrus

Review: 'Cardinology'/Ryan Adams & The Cardinals

Fun fact: I once spoke to Ryan Adams outside Bowery Ballroom for all of 2 minutes while having a cigarette with my friend Brian. We had both seen something on the Discovery Channel about the Mars landers and agreed that our minds were blown by this type of thing. He seemed like a really nice guy, not at all like the weirdo on that website of his. Although, the more I think of it, the more I think half the stuff on there is an inside joke between him and his friends. Has to be, right? 

We move on. I like to keep these kind of short, so here's the short take on it: I didn't like it as much as I liked Cold Roses or Jacksonville City Nights, which is probably a common take on it. Even though six out of the 12 songs get four stars, I really don't think they're all that memorable and I doubt if I'll look back on them in a few years and want to play them all that much. It feels like an in between sort of record. 

It's fair to say that some of these are barely 4 stars. They may yet slip to 3. Nothing is forever, not even the opinions of Himself. 

Best song: 'Let Us Down Easy'

Worst song: 'Natural Ghost'

* Remember to take a look at my commentary on the left to see what these ratings mean. 

Born Into a Light (3 Stars)

Go Easy (4 Stars)

Fix It (4 Stars)

Magick (3 Stars)

Cobwebs (4 Stars)

Let Us Down Easy (4 Stars)

Crossed Out Name (3 Stars)

Natural Ghost (2 Stars)

Sink Ships (3 Stars)

Evergreen (4 Stars)

Like Yesterday (3 Stars)

Stop (3 Stars)