The problem arises from the fact that Rouse's songs are essentially pop tunes, and they'd be a lot more immediate if someone with a stronger voice were singing them. By and large, Rouse's vocals come off like a less tuneful, more crack-prone Ryan Adams, though, to be fair, it's the old, obviously sincere Ryan Adams he's being compared to here. The biggest problem with this album for me is Rouse himself- not his writing or his composition, but his voice. It's by no means a bad record, and there are even several things about it that make it outstanding, but there are just not enough of those things to make it a truly exceptional album. Let me be forthright: Under Cold Blue Stars is a rather appropriately titled effort that some will delight in and many more will scarcely offer a second thought to. Today's little slab of pavement comes courtesy of Josh Rouse, a young singer/songwriter with two albums and a collaborative EP with Lambchop's Kurt Wagner under his belt- and, apparently, a lot more where that came from. And we couldn't have that now, could we? No, of course not. For without reviews of all albums great and terrible, and everything that falls in between, Pitchfork would not exist.
Plus, I just got an out-of-print Long Fin Killie album that I've been wanting to hear for ages in the mail, and this is keeping me from getting to it.Īh, but the show must go on. See, the thing is, listening to these albums over and over again isn't really a chore or anything, but it's the thought that I'm probably not coming back to them any time soon that makes it feel kind of futile. Sometimes I'd rather get one of the pieces of trash from the gutter to review than yet another 5.0-7.0 disc. It seems like I find myself here a lot when writing reviews.
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