Ryan Adams and I are the same age. I am actually a few months older. And while it’s easy to believe in this day and age that 40 is the new 30 and most of us live through an extended period of time of youthful exuberance, also known as arrested development, the latest album from Ryan Adams and The Cardinals sounds as if it was written by someone almost twice his thirty years. This is music from a man who has obviously weathered a lot of heartache, and probably has caused his fair share too. With his second release for 2005, Adams proves once again that sad songs say so much.

This record, with it’s old school country balladry and kicked in the gut sadness, isn’t going to be an easy sell for Adams, whose failed relationships with high profile women have always inspired his prolific career. It’s a record to listen to with a glass of red wine in front of a fireplace after your lover has left you for the very last time. Those records tend to find their audience by accident and tend to play a part in a specific moment that isn’t felt by a massive audience. Maybe what I’m really trying to say is that either you get it or you don’t.

Because this record can hardly be called anything less than straight-forward country, I predict it will be hard for it to find a place on radio. Country stations won’t play it because Adam’s lacks the country boy “Aw Shucks, M’am” demeanor. He’s been very open about his drug use and has a habit of falling off stages and canceling shows. Rock stations won’t play this record, cause well, it isn’t rock. It’s sad that a country album done so well will have such a hard time finding an audience outside of Adam’s diehard fanbase.

Norah Jones sits in with Adams on what I felt was the worst track on the album, Dear John. My standout track is Silver Bullets. Stream the entire album by clicking on my head.

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