Cold Roses: chillingly beautiful.

There are, for the most part, three different responses to the name Ryan Adams. For some, descriptives like arrogant or jerk quickly come to mind. For others, confusion arises as to why Bryan Adams’ name was so carelessly misspelled, quickly followed by a sense of longing for a bygone summer (’69 to be specific). Then there are those who cringe at both of these sentiments, while anxiously asking, “Ryan Adams? Where?”

Where is he playing, when is his new album coming out, what is the latest rendition of his website all about exactly? These are the devoted fans of Ryan Adams. The ones who aren’t quite sure what else everyone is so busy listening to. The ones who wonder where all the critical acclaim and albums sales are. Who can’t figure out how people can be so harsh, or even worse indifferent, towards a musician they love so much.

Cold Roses will both meet and challenge the expectations of these fans. For everyone else, this latest release from Ryan Adams (with backing band the Cardinals) will serve as a proper introduction, given the chance.

Adams’ previous solo efforts have run the gamut from alt-country (Heartbreaker) to alt-rock (Gold) to rock and roll (Rock ‘N’ Roll) to cold, lonely, and a bit British sounding (Love is Hell). And while Demolition played the role of Ryan Adams mix-tape quite nicely, Cold Roses does an equally good job of capturing the full spectrum of Adams’ sound, this time within the unifying environs of a proper album. The result is a combination of what’s made Ryan Adams great in the past with the braving of new ground that will continue to make him influential in the future.

The two-disc, 18-track album begins with Magnolia Mountain, an alt-country longing for a place to “lay [one's] weary head down.” And Cold Roses ends up being such a place. This is an album about the end of a relationship, about the death of love. Adams’ passes the time wondering what went wrong (If I Am a Stranger), missing having someone to come home to (When Will You Come Back Home), feeling incapable at love (How Do You Keep Love Alive), attempting to hold on to the quickly fading past (Sweet Illusions), trying to find hope in the future (Mockingbird, Life is Beautiful), and just wanting to forget it all with a good time (Beautiful Sorta). It’s an emotional place to be, but tinged with thoughts of Carolina and Tennessee, Cold Roses comes off feeling nostalgic and beautiful. Just the place for the weary.

Adams’ talent is in being deeply honest without being overly specific. Providing the sentimental dots and letting the listener connect them with their own experiences. “I ain’t afraid of hurt / I’ve had so much it feels just like normal to me now.” “Steady my soul and ease my worry / hold me when I rattle / Like a hummingbird humming.” “If all this love is real, how will we know / If we’re only scared of losing it / How will it last.” Sentiments that many will find true, but that few will have put words to.

Cold Roses might feel drawn out on first listen. Some will make (the perfectly reasonable) argument that Adams could have released a much stronger album by pairing things down to a single disc. I see their point, but feel as though a boiled down Cold Roses would lose something. It would lose its sense of patience, forgoing the weight of loss for the high-(or low)-lights.

The stellar Meadowlake Street is a perfect example of this, with Adams singing in falsetto over a single acoustic guitar for the first 3/4ths of the song before the band comes in and the song builds to a fitting conclusion. This is a sipping on wine kind of record, not a keg stand.

Ultimately Cold Roses is not without flaw. Though Adams seems much more comfortable aided by the input of a full band, he still at times seems to try too hard – stretching analogies to their breaking point or relying too heavily on the imitation of those before him. Adams also has a tendency to reach near perfection in a song only to leave it seemingly unfinished or to polish it off with nothing lyrics like “Try and explain it / But that s*** just f**** you up.” You’re left wanting just a bit more, although as a friend put it:

“It is so Ryan Adams to mess up a completely amazing song with a line or two of some rough and dirty lyrics. But I was thinking, this is what I really love about him. He makes these masterpieces and then leaves a random brush stroke on the canvas, or takes a chip off of a beautiful sculpture as if to say, this is life. Ultimately beautiful but fatally flawed…I can see why some don’t like him. All they can see are these imperfections.”

Cold Roses may not be perfect, but if you can see past the shortcomings you’ll find incredible beauty, sadness, and a hint of hope.

(posted Friday, May 13, 2005)