OH DOCTOR CARR

Ryan Adams “returned” to music this year with Ashes & Fire, possibly his most heartfelt and earnest album to date. I try my bestest not to read into music with an artist’s off-stage life, but there’s no getting around the fact that this album was born with and grew from his sobriety and his marriage to Mandy Moore.  

What am I doing here?
What am I?

Somebody save me
It’s just too much pain
If someone can save me
From the morning, I will remain
Somebody save me
Save me…

It’s sweet, without being saccharine. It’s lovey-dovey, without being clingy. It’s simple, without being dolt. He’s regularly sung about asking for help and seeking rescue. But if I’m not mistaken, this is the first time he sounds like he actually received them both.

We may not have started the fire, but we can at least put it out and clean the ashes up.

Since I’m on the subject of crazy person embarrassing behavior in public resulting from listening to Ryan Adams on your iPod, I dare you to listen to this song and not have your body move. Whether it’s simply matching your stride to the beat, or perhaps turning a corner—not because you planned to—but because the music forced you to, or even channeling the song’s energy to power past slow-ass people who don’t know how to walk on a New York City sidewalk (read: shoot those motherfucking zombies!), you can’t help but manifest this song physically.

You’re like a storm tower if it had fire power 
Everything you touch burns 
Scorched earth 
Water tower burned up to the ground 
Zombies runnin’ all around 
Eventually we hit the mall 
Knock it down at nightfall 

So turn the radio on 
So turn the radio up 
So turn the radio up loud and get down 
Let your body move 
Let your body sway 
Listen to the music play 
It’s magick 

Magick is one of several of his songs over the years which break the fourth wall, focus on the physical record or album and direct the listener’s actions and reactions. This style reminds me of some 1950s throwaway pop band easily and cheaply endearing themselves to the kids, but Magick packs a much fiercer punch. As do several of the tunes on 2008’s Cardinology, although it’s rather apparent that by this point in time, Ryan Adams seems to have exhausted the well of creativity he discovered upon teaming up with the Cardinals. In fact, less than three months after the album’s release, he announced that he would be separating from the backing band, in a statement that many media outlets read as him quitting music altogether.

(Source: dailyryanadams)

If you ever see me finishing my smoke outside the Bloomingdales subway station or leaning against the window on the balls-to-the-wall crowded 6 train on my way home and see me mouthing words and animatedly moving my head and my body around, I swear I’m not crazy! I’m simply performing a dramatic monologue to this song in my head. I mean, listen to it! How can you not? 

If I could I’d fold myself away like a card table
A concertina or a murphy bed, I would
But I wasn’t made that way, so you know instead
I’m open all night and the customers come to stay
And everyone tips but not enough to knock me over
And I’m so tired; I just worked two shifts

Easy Tiger’s release in 2007 was heralded with much press proclaiming that the Ryan Adams everyone loved was back. For some of us, he had never left. But that doesn’t make Easy Tiger any less good.

After the brilliance of Cold Roses and Jacksonville City Nights, my expectations were high for Ryan Adams’ third album release of 2005. But without the influence of The Cardinals, 29 drifts back into territory I thought had been abandoned: ambling, sparse, so much pain but so little heart. So much the antithesis of 2005’s earlier albums, probably intentional. I listened to it several times the day I bought it but didn’t pick it up again after that for several years. It’s not a disaster, but pretty close. Hearing it now though, I wonder if it’s painful to listen to because of its quality or because of its content.

(Source: the-season-blue-remains)