Ryan Adams
Heartbreaker

THE REVIEW

With a broken heart and the label of the new Dylan (a category at some point everyone has entered, even my fruit vendor), Ryan Adams, leader of the disbanded Whiskeytown, releases "Heartbreaker", his first solo album.

Recorded in two weeks with the help of David Rawlings and Gillian Welch, the album showcases the woes of young Ryan dealing with one of many romantic disappointments. But if you're expecting a bitter album, you've got the wrong cover.

No trace of the punk-folk from some Whiskeytown tracks ("Drank Like A River" from Faithless St among all): to highlight the emotional massacre, the prodigy child uses few instruments, often just the acoustic guitar, and his voice, clear and expressive like few others: the greater the chaos, the lesser the need to shout it.

Of course, our hero does not live on spleen alone; there are indeed uptempos (otherwise, what's all that cocaine for?) like "To Be Young" (introduced by a discussion with Rawlings about Morrisey's "Bona Drag"), drunken boogie and roll meant to be sung at the subway stop while drinking whiskey and cola or "Shakedown on 9th Street", a track so Stones that it makes you suspect he might have stolen it from Keith Richards' backpack.

The real protagonists are the sweaty melancholic tracks, like the masterpiece "Oh My Sweet Carolina" where, in a duet with Emmylou Harris, he talks about his need to return home after having "gambled up my life". Or "Come Pick Me Up", a bitter reflection on a ended love that leaves trace even in the records stolen by the girl at the time, a track that bears the marks of a classic from the very first harmonica chords. 

But the true heart of darkness in the album is "Call Me On Your Way Back Home", three minutes of surrender and admission of sins that ends with a harmonica tearing through veins and horizon. "To Be The One", "Amy", and "Why Do They Leave?" closely follow without ever trying to overtake. 

Not a masterpiece album, but certainly a masterpiece of sincerity.