Last week, I wrote a review of Ryan Adams' latest CD, Demolition, in which I deemed it to be, although somewhat uneven, worth checking out. While I stand by the review, I feel compelled to take this opportunity to mention that I, personally, love Demolition, and, fittingly, I really, really love Ryan Adams as well.
I don't know exactly what it is, whether it's the way his snarl stands out perfectly from a background of distressed denim or how he owns my dream arsenal of pre-1975 guitars or his tendency of getting wasted in Nashville and making out with girls leaned up against the Ryman Auditorium. He's just such an inspiration to a big-city college boy who likes nothing more than to strap on his Adams-heavy iPod and dream of having Winona Ryder as a ebound"" (his words). I'm not just into Ryan, I'm buy-the-vinyl-at-inflated-import-prices devoted to him.
So what am I to do, then, when just as Ryan releases what's probably his weakest effort, my editor hands me the solo release of Rhett Miller of the Old 97s, the cover of which is just a tawdry show of stubble, shaggy mane and Howlin' Pelle eyebrows. Jesus, he's even got a gold tooth? What's he doing? Doesn't he know my alt-country heart is spoken for?
It just got more tangled over the weekend, when I found I just couldn't keep my hands off this disc. I don't purport to know much of anything about the Old 97s (the old Arts editors weren't so free and easy with the CDs), so I didn't really know where he was coming from but, oh, it was just so likeable. The Instigator is pretty standard alt-rock power pop, but it's done so nicely. Rhett's voice isn't as sweet or as versatile as Ryan's, but damned if that slight cockney clip doesn't get me every time.
And Rhett just wouldn't relent about all of our common interests, like making out to the sound of the El or reading Wagner and Delillo and whipping up simple but effective four-chord ballads about them. He was relentless, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it at all. Then I thought about how much trouble it would cause, and how I wouldn't be able to hang out with Ryan's friends Willie Nelson and Gillian Welch anymore. Rhett must've known exactly what I was thinking, because he brought out Robyn Hitchcock, which was sweet, Rhett, it really was, but ""Balloon Man"" doesn't really hold up to ""Stardust.""
Rhett's a great guy, really, and I know a lot of people who he'd be perfect for. And I still plan on listening to him a lot, at least until I get the limited edition LP of Demolition. If you don't have a handsome rock 'n' roll obsession, I really think you should check The Instigator out, because it's got a lot going for it, and Rhett tries really hard. I'm just not in a place where I can take on another unkempt dreamboat, y'know?
