Ryan Adams
Rock N Roll (2003)

Review by: Stephan Finch
Date: 1/15/04

Okay, so sometimes it's a little embarrassing and tiresome to watch Jacksonville, N.C.-born Ryan Adams put on his scuzzy East Village loser act. But it can also be fun. This record, Rock N Roll, is probably intended as a paean to the punkers and British progressive rockers who inspired him in high school.

Some of the best songs, like "This is It," show the influence of Husker Du, and others, like "Does Anybody Want to Take Me Home?" remind us of The Smiths. And even though Adams doesn't seem interested in the sincere emotional hurt that Bob Mould and Morrissey displayed, there are some good licks in here. In fact, mixed in with the faux punk power chords here or the jangling 80's-style Rickebacker stumming there, there are enough moments of Ryan Adams originality to raise the hairs on your arms.

Hopefully Adams will soon outgrow this silly I'm-a-jerk phase and realize it: He's got alt country's prettiest voice, writes its prettiest songs, and is the movement's best hope for breaking through to the mainstream.

Ryan Adams
Demolition (2002)

Review by: Brandon Copple
Date: 11/1/03

Even the worst Ryan Adams record isn't that bad. There are two great songs on this album. The first is "Dear Chicago," a haunting meditation on getting over it. The second is "Chin Up, Cheer Up," a clever bluegrassy ramble.

Otherwise there isn't much here. The slow songs are fine but uninteresting. The fast songs suck, with the exception of "Chin Up" and "Hallelujah," which is catchy and cool but another classic-rock knockoff.

This was supposed to be a demo record ('Demo’-lition…get it?), but it sounds like it’s been varnished and lacquered by a real pro.

Ryan Adams
Gold (2001)

Review by: Brandon Copple
Date: 11/1/03

The knock on Gold has been that it's little more than second-rate 70s rock. Stones riffs and Skynyrd breakdowns on top of Ryan's obsessive self-pity.

That's true, but so what? You say there's nothing groundbreaking on Gold, I say there are and have always been plenty of cool bands doing a retro thing. You say every song is about the songwriter feeling sorry for himself, I say go read the Hank Williams songbook.

Fact is this album has enough good songs, about eight, to make one good record. Great hooks, solid writing and music that plays perfect against Ryan's voice. Unfortunately it’s got like 21 songs; these range from the well-conceived but poorly executed ("Sylvia Plath") to the downright awful ("Tina Toledo").

The problem with Gold is that even on the good songs, the music is too perfect. Maybe it's overproduced, certainly it’s overwrought. It's hard to argue that the older stuff is better, with its inexpert playing and back-of-the-envelope songwriting, but sometimes I wonder.

A guy who's writing on raw emotion maybe shouldn't be pouring over his songs in the studio for a month. Feel it, write it, sing it, can it. Any self-respecting musician reading this probably wants to kick my ass by now.

Ryan Adams
Heartbreaker (2000)

Review by: Brandon Copple
Date: 11/1/03

A masterpiece. A beautiful sadness. Quiet, dark, poetic. The music is sparse: straightforward guitars and soft drums leading string sections along with Adams' forlorn vocals. The language is obscure but so raw, so sincere, that you get it: despair, heartbreak, loneliness that hurts in your chest. It's visceral. It's beyond emotional. It's like Gram Parsons' best songwriting: you don't know what he's singing about, you feel it.

And speaking of whom, Emmylou Harris sings backup on the song "My Sweet Carolina," which includes the lyrics "So I went on to Cleveland, and I ended up insane; bought a borrowed suit and learned to dance."

Emmy's voice is the Tabasco sauce of country music: it makes even good stuff better. But the better the music, the better Emmy sounds. On Heartbreaker she sounds perfect, and I can't come up with a better compliment than that.