|
Ryan Adams
fans may be feeling a bit overwhelmed. Sure, the former Whiskeytown frontman
has bragged about his prolific songwriting binges and the hours of unreleased
tracks lining his studio shelves. Still, it’s surprising he chose to release
three albums in 2005 – first Cold Roses, a double-disc dose of melancholic country, then the
more upbeat Jacksonville City Nights. Now comes 29, a stripped-down
solo effort that is a characteristically
bleak account of life in his 20s, when Adams, now 31, was “a motherless son of
a bitch, loaded on ephedrine, looking for downers and coke.” If the
arrangements seem subdued, with Adams’ impassioned wail often reduced to a
faint warble, it’s no accident. Exploring a familiar but affecting theme of
quiet desperation, Adams captures the directionless essence of postgraduate
malaise and channels it into a series of fiercely moving ballads, from the
Dylanesque “Carolina Rain” to the wistful “Night Birds.”
|
