Ryan Adams - Ashes and Fire

Ryan Adams. Just say the name and you’re bound to get one of two reactions: love or hate. And while there are plenty of bands out there that elicit this same effect, Adams seems to have done so in a very different way. Many times the polarization of music lovers comes from the style of the band, loving those that fit your wants and desires and loathing those that don’t. Other times it comes from an understanding, hating those that you just don’t get and worshiping those touch your cerebral cortex. And while some might argue that those that don’t like Ryan Adams don’t understand him or that he’s just not their style, the deepest sentiment for Adams is much different. Adams has done something unique—he’s fit in.

Over 11 years, nine solo albums and four with The Cardinals, Ryan Adams has been remarkable at fitting in. He’s that guy at the party that never says anything controversial but changes his tone depending on who he’s hanging with. His friends love him because he’s the guy that anyone can talk to, and his enemies don’t because he seems disingenuous.

So, it is with a tinge of apprehension that I approached his latest release, Ashes and Fire. I just want to make sure I know who I’m talking to here.

Ashes and Fire opens with “Dirty Rain” and “Ashes & Fire,” two good openers, and, while not ground-breaking, they offer promise for an entertaining album to come. That is after all what we’re here for, right? To be entertained?

Well, that’s the end of that fun.

“Come Home” drops the album into an abyss of slow and sappy songs…a bland, ordinary and tiresome mix of tunes, none of which most musicians with an acoustic and four track couldn’t do themselves, and all of which you’ve heard before in some form or another. In fact, this may be the most frustrating thing about Ashes and Fire—it’s almost entirely unoriginal. It’s nothing new for Adams or for the genre in which he’s working. He’s done it before with albums like Gold and Heartbreaker. And his influences, ala Lyle Lovett, Iron and Wine, Band of Horses, Bob Dylan, Alison Krauss, have all done it better. Sure, there is always going to be someone that’s done it better, but when he spends so much time apparently trying to sound like these predecessors, it’s hard to provide that same forgiveness.

You see, Adams has always been a sponge and chameleon of sorts, absorbing the sounds of popular acts and changing his sound to fit. That’s what Ashes and Fire is—his continued blend into the acoustic folk scene, done without making the slightest splash. And if this is his goal, I’d say it’s mission accomplished. But if this is any attempt to make his mark on an already over-saturated market, my advice would be to leave it to the experts.

Rating
Overall: 1.5/5
Originality: 1/5
Production: 2.5/5
Listenability: 1/5