Aural Fixations

RYAN ADAMS
Rock N Roll
Love is Hell, Pt. 1
Love is Hell, Pt. 2
(Lost Highway)
We've all heard the story by now: controversial wunderkind Ryan Adams makes record that's rejected by the label, which demands another album; Adams responds with quick 'n' dirty rock record, talks label into releasing original opus in EP form. Who knows how much of this tale is true—Adams is a master of self-mythology, but releasing Love is Hell as a pair of EPs instead of as an album makes absolutely no sense. If true, however, the president of Lost Highway should be beaten about the head and shoulders with a stack of John Lennon records, because Love is Hell is arguably the major creative statement to which Adams' career has been building. Much has been made about the production's mash note to atmospheric 80s British pop, but, really, that influence is less a dominant force than a fresh ingredient in Adams' stew. Love is Hell revels in melody and emotion, with no particular stylistic allegiance. For once, Adams is less concerned with showing off his mastery of various forms of rock than he is with distilling them down to an instrument through which he can communicate. Rumor has it that the songs were inspired by that old stand-by/cliché, a recent breakup. True or not, never before has Adams poured so much naked emotion into his performances; the passion in his singing is palpable. Tunes like "This House is Not For Sale" and the title track (found on Pt. 1) and "Hotel Chelsea Nights" and "Please Do Not Let Me Go" (from Pt. 2) show a degree of balance between craft and heart previously not thought possible of Adams, despite his track record. Pt. 1's "The Shadowlands," which would have probably been the album's centerpiece had it been released as intended, is the best thing he's yet done. Though not quite a masterpiece, Love is Hell should have been the project to finally lay naysayers' doubts about Adams to rest. Thanks to bizarre business happenstances, it stands now as the great breakthrough that wasn't.

All of which isn't to say that Rock N Roll, the album Adams tossed off, is bad. Far from it, in fact—the songs may not be torn from the depths of Adams' soul (or maybe they are, who knows?), but they still show a high degree of craft, a few dollops of passion and a sense of joy absent from the moody Love is Hell. Adams and cohort Johnny T sound as if they're caught up in the rush of some diabolical sugar/caffeine cocktail, bursting with excitement as they lay down these noisy tracks. Adams brings his rough-hewn guitar tones to bear on a set of songs boasting the same melodic instincts as the Hell tracks, but instead of integrating Smiths influences Adams channels T. Rex (perhaps a little too closely—"Shallow" may cause "Bang a Gong" fans to do a doubletake) and Iggy Pop. "So Alive" and "She's Lost Total Control" soar while "1974" and "Note to Self: Don't Die" pound, all frosted with generous amounts of rattling, crunching, fuzzed-out six-strings and no-bullshit drumming. In contrast to the resigned tenor of Hell, Adams sings everything like the tough with a heart of gold, or at least pyrite, as if he wants to let everything loose without ripping his chest open. It's a cocky vulnerability (or vulnerable bravado) that will feel very familiar to Replacements fans; indeed, the record's overall feeling of familiarity is the only thing keeping it from being a classic. But Paul Westerberg hasn't sounded this strong in years. Pastiche it may be, but it's hard to argue with Rock N Roll. Coupled with the two volumes of Love is Hell, this record is indication of an underrated artist just hitting his stride. Michael Toland