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Rating: Four years ago, Ryan Adams announced to the world that he had stopped drinking, doing drugs, and smoking. And from the furrowed expression of his wife Mandy Moore, it was clear that he had stopped other things too. Furthermore, insiders claimed that every Sunday he could be found at the church in Jacksonville - his hometown - serving mass alongside Father Johnny. Indeed, he had given up the rustic excesses of the past and had embraced a more tranquil life: home by noon, groceries in the fridge, and off to the desk to write polite songs with the fountain pen from his first communion. The result had been two albums (Easy Tiger and Cardinology) full of beautiful songs but lacking the compositional madness that had always distinguished the rock scoundrel. Few fillers but also few songs to listen to trembling in the dark or to strum while posting the video on YouTube.
At the end of 2010, he released the double album "Cardinals III/IV" two years after the last record. Two years! An eternity for Ryan, who was used to writing an album a day, usually a triple one. Moreover, the material of this work preceded his detoxification, the washing machine moment. The naked lunch, so to speak.
And indeed, the inconsistent and crazy Ryan Adams returns, blending all his musical knowledge into 21 songs. The sound recalls his old albums Demolition and Rock n Roll with some additions from the Replacements without too many acoustic delights. Nothing is left out of this pot cooked together with the Cardinals: it ranges from the 60s rock n roll of "Stop Playing with My Heart" and "Star Wars" - Hey, I’m whistling a Ryan Adams song - to the almost metal sounds of "No" and "Icebreaker". In the middle are songs that would have been better with just guitar and voice (the swaying "Dear Candy" and "Happy Birthday", ruined by an unnecessary synth), a theft from U2 ("Wasteland"), proto-punk tracks where he scratches his vocal cords ("PS", "Sewers at The Bottom of The Wishing Well" and the stuttering "Users"), acoustic interludes ("Death and Rats"), some reminiscence of the Grateful Dead and even a dedication to the dog ("Gracie"). To leave nothing out, he adds some buffoonery to justify a double album (the pointless duet with Norah Jones on "Typecast" and the faded rock of "My Favorite Song") and the meal is served. The usual old Ryan, so to speak. With an extra touch of fun and a granite sound. The fiery ballads are missing but there is plenty of material to set your throat on fire.
Not his best album. Certainly the most fun and enjoyed.
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