Concert review: Ryan Adams and the Cardinals, Auckland, February 4

I have to admit, I was a little nervous about seeing Ryan Adams and the Cardinals again. He's either really good or not so good live, known for his temper, coming on the heels of a good-if-not-quite-amazing new album, and oh, he just decided to quit the music biz apparently. The last time I saw him 18 months ago, he was infuriatingly great, doing some wonderful tunes despite apparently trying to sabotage them.

But no worries, because last night's gig was an excellent counterpart to his dark and brooding 2007 show in Auckland. Ryan's mood was fantastic, I'd go so far as to say giddy, with that whole 'last show in a long tour' relief. Compared to the last show when I think he looked up and muttered two sentences to the crowd, tonight he was engagingly goofy, telling jokes, singing impromptu "band themes" for his mates, and even dealing well with a handful of really obnoxious hecklers. I don't know if there really is a Good Ryan/Bad Ryan, but we definitely had Good Ryan last night.

Adams' psychedelic heart-on-his-sleeve country-rock was in fine form, bouncing between ballads and rockers. Highlights for me include beautiful show opener "I See Monsters," a tremendously urgent take on "Rescue Blues," the excellent new tune "Born Into A Light" and a real gem for any Ryan fan -- a soaring, epic take on his superb cover of Oasis' "Wonderwall" (which beats the socks off the original, I have to say). I don't know if this really is their final show downunder for a while or not, but the Cardinals were in excellent form -- particular kudos to lead guitar Neal Gasal and the groovy pedal steel of Jon Graboff.

Auckland's been having a heat wave and it was a bloody sweatlodge inside the Powerstation. The punters were quite into it, which was nice except when the occasional yahoo acted out (great quote from Ryan when gently chastising one arm-waver: "This isn't Fugazi, you know"). Whatever dark place Ryan was in last time, though, it did make a difference to some of his songs -- there was a searing passion then to a song like "Goodnight Rose," which was like an anguished cry from the heart, whereas last night it was a bouncier, less stinging jam. You can't really judge a guy's life from watching him play on stage a couple hours, but I had to wonder about the whole suffering equals art thing. Who writes the best songs, Good Ryan or Bad Ryan? But still, it was great to see him happier yesterday.

And that alleged retirement? Well, the incredibly prolific Ryan deserves a break, to be sure, but I hope he doesn't stay quit forever.

*Photos are from the Wellington gig the night before courtesy of Flickr user aloemonkey.

Year in Review: My Top 10 CDs of 2007

I know, CDs, how old-fashioned am I? But while I do download music, I can't quite give up the tactile pleasures of owning an actual CD. Auckland's awesome Real Groovy Records is one of my favorite haunts, a place a record-store geek can while away hours digging through the bargain bins. Here's the tunes that perked me up this year nearly gone by:

1. LCD Soundsystem, Sound of Silver - Irony turns into something a bit deeper in James Murphy's fantastic second album as "dance-punk" act LCD Soundsystem. Catchy electronic beats marry to smooth, dry songwriting. The goofy satire of his earlier work is here with "North American Scum," but an elegant wistful beauty comes to light too with the superb "All My Friends." An aging hipster's lament that it can't all stay the same as it ever was, and the disc from 2007 I played more times this year than any other. (Full review here.)

2. Ryan Adams, Easy Tiger - Ryan Adams is so prolific that it's often hard to appreciate his output, but even his throwaways will stick in your brain. But with "Easy Tiger" he's put out his most polished disc since "Gold." The soulful country troubadour crossed with a burned-out junkie's passion matures into a fine crafter of songs with gentle gems like "Two" and "Goodnight Rose." He's like watching a young Neil Young and marveling at all the songs that might come out in the future.

3. Neil Young, Chrome Dreams II - Speaking of Neil, here's a surprisingly lovely and eclectic set by one of the greats, considering it's a "grab bag" of miscellany including one epic that dates back nearly 20 years, the sprawling 18-minute "Ordinary People," one of the best songs of this or any year. It's packed in with a varied but overall very good set of Neil songs that try out everything from garage-rock to sentimental ballads, like a greatest hits that never was.

4. Of Montreal, Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? - Early Bowie and T Rex in an electronica blender, with a dash of Pavement. A strangely fey and dazzling disco-pop album about the rise and fall of one man's soul, with the smashingly intense, 11-minute long "The Past Is A Grotesque Animal," the beating heart at the middle of it all. Like the sound of a nervous breakdown with a beat you can dance to. (Full review here.)

5. Arcade Fire, Neon Bible - Their 2004 debut "Funeral" got a lot of ink, but this dense and melodramatic follow-up is just as good I think. Few bands can pull off the over-the-top rock 'n' roll savior thing they're going for, but tracks like "Black Mirror" and "No Cars Go" make it happen. A towering noise that casts a glittering spell. I get to see them live next month at Auckland's Big Day Out, can't wait!

6. I'm Not There original soundtrack - Tribute albums never quite work, but somehow, this two-disc ode to Bob Dylan is a marvel, with artists from Cat Power to Wilco to Antony and the Johnsons putting their spin on Dylan's legacy – props to them not going for the obvious songs and pulling some rarities out for a go. More than 30 songs and most of them put a fine spin on Dylan's world. Bonus points for the mesmerizing 1967 Dylan and the Band tune "I'm Not There," finally getting an official release from the Basement Tapes. (Full review here.)

7. White Stripes, Icky Thump - The most consistently eccentric band that sells top 10 albums, and another gem-packed ramble through Jack and Meg's closets. The Mexican wrestling theme "Conquest," the fuzzed-out "Icky Thump," the charming ditty "Rag and Bone" - it's all kinda sloppy and silly, and that's its charm. Keep on doing what you're doing, guys. Maybe less bagpipes less time, though.

8. The National, The Boxer - This one snuck up on me, a dour, moody suite of rock anthems that reveal themselves on repeated listens to be miniature masterpieces of tone and longing. Brooding bartione voice, fantastic drumming and songs that build in power. Perfect for a 3 a.m. post-nightlife chill-out. Or spiral into despair, whatever floats your boat. (Full review here.)

9. The Stooges, The Weirdness - Men in their sixties trying to pretend they're still punk, this comeback should've bombed (and a lot of people did hate it), but heck, I found this pure dumb rock fun at its clearest – music that's disorderly, inelegant and crude, with a slight wink to it. Not The Stooges of 1969, and really, how could it be, but an amusing revival. (Full review here.)

10. Wilco, Sky Blue Sky - A retreat from the dazed psychedelia of their last discs into mellow country pop, it's a "taking stock" album but still a welcome back porch singalong, Jeff Tweedy sounding relaxed and at peace and he can't help but spread that vibe a little bit. Better than I thought on the first few listens.

Honorable mention: The latest by New Pornographers, Björk, Foo Fighters, The Shins, and Iron and Wine are all good stuff.

Best live shows: The New York Dolls were terrific fun and so loud I think they broke my ears, and Bob Dylan was a living legend in fine form, but despite my qualms about the staging, I have to admit my trip to see Ryan Adams in August is the show I remember the best of 2007 – outstanding solos, riveting vocals and a passion that while occasionally misguided (really, couldn't they turn up the lights a bit?), it worked in the end and the songs certainly stuck with me.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Enjoy the holidays!

Concert review: Ryan Adams, Auckland, Aug. 16

...If Ryan Adams ever writes an autobiography, it oughta be called "Beautiful but Frustrating." That's kind of how I felt after an often-stellar, but sometimes fumbled show during Ryan's first appearance in New Zealand. Ryan Adams has been putting out a prolific slide of country/rock albums for years now; his 2002 masterwork Gold is right up there on my top albums of the '00s list. But drug addiction, a fiery temper and other problems have nearly derailed his career. (A recent New York Times article about the newly sober Ryan was titled "Ryan Adams didn't die. Now the real work begins.") He's cleaned up now and back with one of his best discs, the mellow and tuneful Easy Tiger.

But I have to admit Ryan's dubious live reputation – fights with the audience, etc. – left me a little uncertain about seeing him up at a nice little intimate theater in Auckland's North Shore. The band, The Cardinals, was fantastic, and Ryan proved he can sing and play guitar with the best of them. His folksy anthems were spun out into sprawling psychedelic Americana gems – it was a bit like an Allman Brothers show spliced with a hint of Replacements.

And when Ryan and the band were on, they were on fire – I was knocked out by a lengthy jam on "Magnolia Mountain," a Grateful Deadsian ode that might just be my favorite Adams song. "Goodnight Rose" off his latest got a fantastic take, and older tunes like "Beautiful Sorta" and "Cold Roses" also were great. I really liked him digging up a revamped version of "Is This It" from his underrated '80s rock homage Rock N Roll.

But a slack performance ethic marred it for me – I can understand taking a break after the first two songs to fix what appeared to be technical difficulties, but then another 15-minute break after only 40 minutes or so of music (apparently to take a cigarette break) really killed some of the momentum for me. Then, because the venue has a curfew, there was no encore when the show wrapped up – which they could've done if they'd only started on time and hadn't taken all those breaks. Ah well. It was interesting comparing it to Bob Dylan, who I saw Saturday – his show was far more professional and polished, although I have to admit Ryan trumped Dylan in soulful passion.

But what really irked me about Ryan's concert was the hideous lighting, something I've never had to complain about for a rock concert. For most of the show the stage was bathed in this awful blue-black hue that made everything obscured in shadow. It got a little better but this artistic decision meant we spent most of the show watching Ryan and his band trying to actually see Ryan and his band. People were actually shouting from the balcony to turn the lights up, but no avail. I just don't get why Adams doesn't want the audience to see him play. (I had to compare him afterwards to the superb opening act, Kiwi singer Anika Moa, who was totally awesome, funny and engaged with the audience. And she had the best ad-lib of the night, "I'd knock you out with one tit, mate." Guess you had to be there.)

If it sounds like I'm moaning, it's because this nonsense turned what could've been a great show into a merely quite good one. (And that fantastic take on "Magnolia Mountain" is still ringing in my ears.) Adams is still one of my favorite current musicans and a man of immense talent. It's just a little frustrating, is all.

One of the great pop songs of the 1990s was Oasis' "Wonderwall." I'm not even a big Oasis fan, and their "nü Beatles/battlin' brothers" schtick got real old real fast, but for that one song at least, they met every potential they ever had. A plaintive, hopeful and sweeping piece of pop, with its great primal chorus of "Maybe/you're going to be the one that saves me" --it's one of those songs that just works for me, and every time I hear the original I'm transported back to 1995 or so and that weird post-college abyss of hopeful fear and strangeness your life is in before you settle down to the job/wife/kids life. It's a song of the moment and a song that seems new to me each time I hear it.

"Wonderwall" is also one of the more covered songs of the 1990s by alt-acts, although it's always done with a vague sense of embarrassment (if Oasis were cool in 1995, they sure aren't in 2004). Ryan Adams did a lovely, almost holy cover on his "Love is Hell Part One" CD last year and it'd be perfect if it weren't for the goofy faux-Cockney introduction he gives it. Cat Power, she of the lovely cover songs, did a lush and gorgeous spare version I recently downloaded, while Weezerapparently also did a decent cover I've found. I've seen another on Limewire by The Beastie Boys of all people which I'm intrigued to hear but wasn't able to get earlier. I also downloaded an atrocious "drum 'n' bass" remix of the original Oasis song which sounds like nothing so much as the Oasis song heard while stuck in traffic waiting for a train. A good remix might be possible but that wasn't it. But like most things, the original is pretty darn cool and hard to top, although if Ryan Adams performed a serious version someday it might be a tough fight. Oasis may not have amounted to much despite all the hype, but for "Wonderwall" at least they deserve a couple of props.

Edited to add: Well, I tracked down the Beastie Boys cover, as well as an ever odder one by Metallica, although both are tinny-recorded live bootlegs and not very interesting. Also found a short cover by Radiohead that is actually quite good!