Adams Angers Fans With Surprisingly Solid Recycled Songs

Ryan Adams
Demolition

Ryan Adams wants to make you mad.

The would-be king of alt-country rock, poised at the precipice of widespread commercial success, has a devoted following of fans and admirers, all waiting for Adams to take the throne. But he doesn't care.

His 2001 release, Gold, galvanized music fans with its brash talent and buoyant, firecracker energy. The stage was set for a brilliant follow-up record, one to convert the unconverted and break down a few of popular rock's stale barriers.

Demolition isn't that record.

A collection of demo recordings from his Gold session, Adams' new album isn't really new at all. It doesn't represent an artistic statement -- just an artistic restating. None of the songs -- no matter the quality -- seem to have occupied Adams' mind as much as his others ever did. None of the songs mattered as much to him as his others meant to him.

That said, Demolition is great -- melodic, damaged, heartfelt and backyard poetic like his best work. He croons, he growls, he whispers, and he snarls. The songs, especially in the album's front half, are as strong as anything on Gold or his fantastic solo debut, Heartbreaker.

And maybe that's the thing that will rub some Adams devotees and casual fans the wrong way, that an album of tossed-off demos and unreleased recordings is so complete and satisfying. As weak as Demolition ought to be, it's still dazzling and intoxicatingly indicative of Adams' sheer talent and songwriting craft -- so much so that it's hard not to want more or expect more from such a singular musical voice.

It's something like an implied insult -- Adams shows us how good he is, that he can make a near classic without even trying, but he won't give us his full attention.

What he does give us can't be disregarded. Songs like "Nuclear," an ethereal and luminous love song, and "Cry on Demand," a gently bruised and pining ballad, can stand alongside his best work.

"Starting to Hurt" has a raw, emotional edge to its pop rock -- it makes the Goo Goo Dolls insignificant on impact. "Gimme a Sign" is another in Adams' line of angry, unrepentant love songs.

And despite being called demos, these songs boast a fluid, stripped-down production that any full studio would be proud of. The songs are almost entirely fleshed out, with all of Adams' emotional depth and catchy cores.

But the songs' effortless elegance beg the question -- if he can do this without blinking, where is the effort his fans and music fans deserve?

It's not that we should demand that our rock idols love us back -- it's that we should expect them to love their music, at least as much as we do.

So far, Adams has coasted on the inimitable good will his albums have created. For all his missteps as an artist, his art has always redeemed him to his fans. Demolition won't change that.

But it's time for the man who would be king to act, and the clock is ticking.

The Arts & Entertainment Editor can be reached at artsdesk@unc.edu.