Tag: country

The Best Record of 2001: Day 9

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 2001: Day 9

It’s overdriven pop vs. minimalist country as Ash takes on Gillian Welch

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

Ash – Free All Angels

Coming into Free All Angels, I expected a blast of guitars and that familiar late‑90s angsty….or something like 3 Doors Down. Honestly, I had no idea what I was in for (I know! I know!). What I didn’t expect at all was how bright and melodic this record sounds. Ash lean hard into pop hooks and glossy production, and it suits them nicely. Open “Walking Barefoot” bounces with energy, driven by big choruses and a reckless sense of fun. The band shifts from power‑pop charm to radio-friendly and back again, without losing its edge. The vocals are gritty, but the melodies push the songs toward the sunny side of the road, not garage rock.

What stands out most is how clean the songwriting feels. Every track swings for immediacy; nothing drags or hides behind fuzz. It’s all overdrive, man. Even when the themes turn darker, the delivery keeps the songs moving with a lift in tone. By the time “Shining Light” and “Burn Baby Burn” hit, it feels like Ash translating youthful frustration into something almost joyous.

This album captures a band embracing melody without apology. I don’t know what Ash was chasing with Free All Angels, but they found it in sing‑along choruses and unguarded optimism. It’s brash, catchy, and a bit sentimental. All the things! It reminds me of someone fondly looking back at a summer stay at the beach.

Gillian Welch- Time (the Revelator)

In the run-up to the bracket kicking off, this came up as a record people should check out ahead of time. There’s usually a lot of those, of course — everyone’s fighting their corner and wants their pet picks to be heard. That’s half the fun! But rarely does someone else chime in and say (really, really paraphrasing here) “If you haven’t heard this record, you haven’t heard music.” I know I butchered that, but what was unmistakable was the endorsement. You gotta love it when someone goes to the mat for a record, book, whatever. So, being one of the people who had somehow made it to 50 without ever (knowingly) hearing Welch, I had to see what the fuss was.

Turns out “Gillian Welch” isn’t just Gillian. It’s her and David Rawlings — her musical and life partner. Welch takes the lead on these songs, her voice steady and unhurried, while Rawlings floats around her with a dry, golden guitar tone.

Time (The Revelator) is ten country songs about heartache, and it’s a fantastic thanks to the duo’s next-level songwriting.

A few songs in, and I would’ve bet my house that Welch was from somewhere like West Virginia — one of those places in a holler that looks to Beckley as the “big city.” Imagine my surprise to learn she’s from L.A. That’s a heck of a pastiche. But the authenticity is never in doubt. These are her and Rawlings putting their all into these songs, and it shows. These aren’t my bag, but I get why the poster said what they did. I suspect that by the time we get through all 64 of the first-round matchups, more than a couple of records will have been flung onto the “sounds of its time” heap. This won’t be one of ’em. Time isn’t holding us, time isn’t after us. Turns out, time is a revelator (and a timeless record).

Bottom Line:
Both of these are solid outings. I went with Welch primarily on the endorsement I opened this post with and a little name recognition. I have a feeling this one could easily go either way.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

The Best Record of 1989: Day 38

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 38

#50 Lyle Lovett, Lyle Lovett and his Large Band vs. EPMD, Unfinished Business

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from EPMD and Lyle Lovett

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—

If EPMD’s 1988 debut, Strictly Business, put the duo on the map, its follow-up, Unfinished Business, cemented their spot. The record is an incredible sophomore outing. Hip-hop back in the day had more weight: chunkier beats, rugged samples, and more bounce to the ounce (sorry, not sorry). The beats came out of the trunk like a left hook, except this was one you didn’t want to duck for.

That’s not to say that the duo of Erick Sermon and Parrish Smith don’t have flow- the pair has bars for days. But they lay down that flow over some industrial-grade beats. There’s fewer moving parts. Less is more. Things pop off with “So Wat Cha Sayin'” a bruising 5 minutes of funk with the infectious sampling of BT Express’ “If It Don’t Turn You On (You Oughta Leave it Alone), layered over some drums from Soul II Soul of all people. Knick Knack Paddy Whack has a sample you’ll likely recognize. Try and see. Those samples and scratches are courtesy of George “DJ Scratch” Spivey, and his work on the 1s and 2s should not be overlooked here.

That flow might be their superpower. The two play off one another like two friends on a patio or sitting at a picnic table on their work break. They’re puttin’ in work, but it never feels labored (FWIW, I think P is better technically, while E has better flow per se.).

That’s not to say Unfinished Business is a no-skip record—you can feel confident in skipping “It’s Time 2 Party” and “You Had Too Much to Drink—but the good far outweighs the bad. Sermon and Smith are all business, and on this record, business was good.

I’ve never quite been able to read Lyle Lovett. Is he country? Something else? And how exactly did he and Julia Roberts wind up together? Lucky him.

That he’s never quite ascended to A-list stardom means that most audiences (and A&R reps and programming directors) were also stumped. But for those that get it, his records are a treat.

I hadn’t heard this one before, and if I’m honest, I wasn’t ready for the bluesy/jazzy/band-y flavor here. It’s good, just not what I thought would be on order. On brand for the man, I suppose. For example, I did not have “Here I Am” with its monologue in the middle on my bingo card. Nor was there a spot for a straight-faced cover of Tammy Wynette’s ” Stand by Your Man.” Yet here we are.

This record is light years from what I was playing in ’89, but listening now, it’s pleasant (not derogatory). I can easily see myself giving this a spin over brunch or on one of those rare days when I get to lie on the couch with Gizmo and stare out the window. It feels like Lovett came to terms with not being a “star,” embraced it, and made the record he wanted to make. Lucky us.

My vote: My heart (vote) says EPMD. My head (bracket pick) has me sayin’ Lyle Lovett.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 28

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 28

#37 Tracy Chapman, Crossroads vs. #92 Emmylou Harris, Bluebird

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Tracy Chapman and Emmylou Harris

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—

If it felt like Tracy Chapman came out of nowhere with 1988’s “Fast Car,” it’s cause, well, she did. We loved the song (and record), but we really liked her backstory of busking while in school, etc. We love us a well-constructed pop song, but we really love the story of someone hitting it big- whether on the baseball field or in music. Rooting for the underdog is in our DNA.

Her self-titled debut checked a lot of boxes.

Love song? Check (“Baby Can I Hold You”).

Protest song? You bet (“Talkin’ About a Revolution.”).

And then, of course, there’s “Fast Car,” about a couple down on their luck—you know, a couple of underdogs. Of course, we liked the track! Those are just the singles; the rest of the album is equally solid.

In 1988, we were ready for Chapman’s voice and talent for storytelling.

So how’d she follow that record up? By making one suspicious of the very trappings of wealth and fame that had just arrived at her feet. I can imagine record execs listening to this with furrowed brows, wondering what to do. There’s no obvious single here. Carried on the momentum of her debut, it sold well enough, and those who bought it were rewarded with a record as in-depth and soulful as her first. There might not’ve been a blatant hit here, but this is no sophomore slump.

Indeed, the album sees Chapman tackling some of the same prickly subjects as before: social (in)equality, politics, and her own relationships. “Born to Fight” is a highlight, as are the title track and “Subcity.”

Crossroads is the sort of record that takes a few spins to soak in, but it’s grown on you before you know it. It showed both that Chapman was a force to be reckoned with and that she was going to stay true to herself and her style.

How Emmylou Harris manages to sound both like a songbird and someone who has seen some things is a magic outside the scope of this blog. That said, both are true no matter what (or whose) material she’s signing. The world got its first real glimpse of her as the singing partner of Gram Parsons on his Grievous Angel record (yes, there was Gliding Bird before that, but let’s be real; it’s not good). As for Grievous Angel? You should totally own it- at least buy a digital copy.

And grab one soon. It’ll change your life.

At any rate, something happened between the Gliding Bird and 1975’s Pieces of the Sky. Maybe it was Parsons (I mean, just listen to “I Can’t Dance!), maybe something else- but whatever forces collided, this is for all intents and purposes where things start- and where they get good.

Fast-forward 15ish years, and Emmylou’s a bona fide star with at least a fistful of good records and a couple of S-tier ones to boot. She’s sung her own songs, lent her voice to the work of others, and sang with others (Trio with Dolly and Linda). There have been peaks and valleys.

Then, we get to Bluebird, which is a both of both. And maybe that’s its downfall. It’s trying to be earlier Emmylou while matching the style of the day. She can still knock ‘em out of the park, though. Witness her take on John Hiatt’s “Icy Blue Heart.” If it doesn’t move you, check your pulse. There’s no shortage of heartbreak here, no lack of being hard done by. Again, by this point, Harris has been through it. Even “Heartbreak Hill” is deceptively upbeat.

So there’s a couple of standouts and a bunch that are, well, kind of forgettable. Not even so bad as to stand out. Just midpack anodyne stuff.

To be clear, Harris could sing a grocery list and make it sound good, but we’re judging records here, and this one just isn’t that strong. There’s a reason a lot of lists of her discography slot this in mid-pack or worse.

Pick a couple of tracks for your playlists and put your money toward grabbing a copy of Grievous Angel instead.

Bottom Line: Two singers with one-in-a-million voices. Neither record is the hallmark of their respective careers, but when looked at as a whole, Chapman’s Crossroads is the better of the two.

My vote: Both my bracket pick and my vote will be going toward Chapman.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—