Roger McGuinn
Cardiff Rose

First of all, the story. At that time, Roger McGuinn was one of the musicians of the celebrated Rolling Thunder Revue in service to Bob Dylan. Within that ensemble, there were many highly-regarded names from the contemporary scene. From that well-documented experience arose the partnership that would lead to this album. A partnership with drummer Howie Wyeth, the virtuoso violinist, mandolin and pedal steel player, and guitarist David Mansfield but most notably with David Bowie's right-hand man and brawny support, the famous Mick Ronson, who also served as the producer for the occasion. McGuinn sought new vital energy to break free from the monotony of American rock music, a style that was diluting towards the bland: surf rock turned yacht rock, psychedelia was disappearing, folk became simple pop rock from the charts.

It was said several times, and this Site also notes in an illustrious review for both the reviewer and reviewed, that the glam of the early days was, after all, nothing but a revisitation of folk. Let the listening of the first record of Marc Bolan or stardust-era Bowie suffice to prove this. Here we have a folk singer who today acts as a musical archaeologist and a glam rocker as rare as they come. It's obvious that together they spark wonders. But where can one read about the glam that stemmed from folk? The review is of the most famous album of the madman among madmen of an entire generation, namely "Outrageous" by Kim Fowley, coincidentally someone who contributed to the McGuinnian cause on the last records of the Byrds by writing, along with bassist friend Skip Battin, various country tracks.

Mick Ronson greatly supports a McGuinn in top form, and one is almost amazed by how well the duo functions. The boogie-glam guitar perfectly suits the surf of the opening "Take Me Away" and complements all of McGuinn's flair in "Partners In Crime," rich in variations and rhythm changes. Together they make "Up To Me," rock made in Duluth, less bouncy behind Dylan's sobs and much more fluid. And if glam was folk, then what to say about the finale "Dreamland," a composition by Joni Mitchell? All of this "Cardiff Rose" seems like folk rock for kids, glam rock for adults. It seems like something that doesn't quite reach masterpiece status but is undoubtedly deeply worthy of being further explored shortly with other works aimed at perfecting the style.

It was also said that glam was one of the few musical genres appreciated by early punk, and for this reason, "Rock And Roll Time" seems emblematic, co-signed by Kris Kristofferson, a pleasant rock song without frills, where even McGuinn's always somewhat complaining voice oozes a cheeky and loose punk vibe.

There is thus a whole series of elements that, whether sought or accidental, make "Cardiff Rose" a work undoubtedly superior to previous solo works, but that's not all. We know that McGuinn has a taste for rearranging traditionals, and that he was practically the first to adapt a medieval piece in a rock key. Thus his folk roots and his jingle-jangle serve the epic narrative of "Round Table," an adventure of cloak and dagger, and there is more: Roger composes "Jolly Roger," an authentic pirate tavern song... In short, Roger doesn't just replay what has been, but he also takes the frontline in writing.

"Cardiff Rose" is a juicy album full of insights, well-built and finally emerging from that west coast sound concoction often prepared by great musicians but just as often, if there isn't the desire to dare, risks becoming a mush without a well-defined flavor. Behind this musical novelty is nevertheless the return to high levels of songwriting by Roger McGuinn, someone who doesn't always fully take responsibility for what he sings. The most varied and courageous work of good solo Roger, indeed perhaps of all McGuinn of the seventies, with or without the Byrds, I don't know if it's the best of a whole career because it should be compared with "Back From Rio" of 1990 but certainly the one least sonically related to his usual sound. Credit to Ronson and the desire to question oneself, clearly taking a cue by copying the example of master Dylan who made the two guitarists coexist on stage to have both continuity and discontinuity.

Ronson and McGuinn, or rather boots with glitter and platforms and those with inlays and spurs. Seemingly inconceivable, and also for this reason beautiful.