Out of Our Heads - The Rolling Stones

Out of Our Heads, is the Stones' third album and our favourite of the early period. We're listening to an original pressing of the US version from 1965, which differs quite a lot from the track listing of the UK version. The remastered versions known today are almost unrecognisable. Our martinis were made with Smirnoff Black with a green lemon twist. Could we be any more pretentious?

The exuberance of this album is infectious. The Stones took rhythm and blues numbers from the US, sped them up and gave them an energy which is exhilarating. This is also the album when Jagger/Richards hit their songwriting straps, drawing on Richards' mastery of the blues. The derivative nature of their songs is obvious (the riff from The Last Time echoes the first track on the album, Mercy Mercy) but the songs are no less brilliant for it. Richards was learning the masters and then messing around, coming up with songs that were equal to or better than his inspirators.

I'm Alright was recorded live, with thousands of screaming girls and Mick hollering "it's alright" over and over again. It's a reminder that the Stones were not just rock and roll stars at this point, but super pop stars, their posters gracing teenage girls' walls. If they were around now, their twitter trending would have rivalled One Direction. (And if you're wondering where else you've heard the riff, it's the Beastie Boys 'Girls'. You're welcome).

While Satisfaction (check out Charlie's 'miming') is the stand out hit and still gets everyone on the dance floor (particularly at a Dowling family party); That's How Strong My Love Is is the heartbreaking winner on the album.

The whole album sounds like a bunch of lads flirting with a generation of young girls. Which it was. They were bad, they were suggestive, they were dissatisfied and bored, they were excited and they wanted to show you the time of your life. If we were teenage girls in the sixties we would have been smitten. Hell, we're in our thirties, five decades later and we're still infatuated.

Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea - PJ Harvey

We drew Bjork's Post out of the basket this evening and L was particularly looking forward to dancing around our apartment singing It's Oh So Quiet. So dear reader, does it still constitute a classic album if it doesn't make the cut in the CDs we bought from Australia to Jordan?

In the honour of truly awesome female singers, we chose PJ Harvey instead. Most of PJ Harvey's albums made the cut in the move and since its release in 2001, Songs from the City, Stories from the Sea has been a regular album for L and is now much loved by B (his misogyny towards women in rock is, piece by piece, disintegrating). We pour an Irish martini - vodka, dry vermouth and Jamieson with a twist of lemon. The power goes out for 15 minutes part way through the album and we settle in for a dinner of raw vegies before it is fortunately restored.

An album about her love of NYC, Stories... is a rock album of the best kind - strong, soaring vocals, raging guitars and quiet moments that still kick you in the guts. You can't listen to This Mess We're In with Thom Yorke, a wail of a song, without joining in with tears of your own.

The two opening tracks are among the strongest - Big Exit and Good Fortune are big, rough openers with simple but evocative lyrics. Although PJ is singing of NY, wondering among the tall buildings, hungover in Chinatown with a boy, I mostly think of Melbourne.

The simplicity of the guitar allows PJ's vocals to dominate the songs. Not only are the guitar parts mostly basic chords, playing almost entirely an accompanying role, the guitars sound like they're coming through an $80 amp. It is raw and beautifully grunge.

The Whores Hustle and The Hustlers Whore is the greatest title for song. PJ Harvey's vocals are particularly affecting. Again she soares high. The lyrics capturing the full gamut of the people that inhabit NY.

Co-produced with Rob Ellis (ever wonder why Anna Calvi sounds like PJ?) as well Mick Harvey, it has the Bad Seeds written all over it. PJ won the Mercury Music Prize for this album, strangely awarded on 11 September 2001. While PJ reflected at the time that music didn't seem so important that day, I think days like that make an album dedicated to NY even more important.

Thriller - Michael Jackson

Is there a more successful pop album than Thriller? Not only does every person in the world own this album, they all agree it is brilliant. It was recorded the year L was born and is still crisp and exciting.

Wanna Be Starting Something is electric. Pure disco pop energy. Manic guitar riffs, epileptic bass, a gospel choir and MJ at the peak of his talents. The cruel tragedy of the song is that all these elements make it impossible to dance not matter how much it incites you.

The Girl is Mine. Urgh. L hates it – it’s not just cheesy but creepy. B thinks it’s wonderful. Ownership of women is ok as long as you sing about it in high harmonies. 

What made this album ground-breaking in MJ's career is that every song is an epic. He'd already recorded perfect pop numbers with the Jackson 5 and on his 1979 album Off the Wall, but Thriller took his music it to another level. The songs were constructed layer upon layer upon layer in the studio and each has a narrative arc. The title track epitomizes this both in song and video. Much has been written about the video – it changed the music industry and pushed the then 25 year old Jackson over the edge into super-stardom which has rarely been matched. Aside from the beat and the dramatic synth riff, the most memorable thing about the song is how scary it is. I remember being petrified by the laugh that closes the song. We can't think of any other pop song that is genuinely terrifying for children (except, perhaps, for Katy Perry's exploding breasts).

While the album feels like it reaches its pinnacle on Side A with Thriller, Side B still brings it with Beat It and Billie Jean. Beat It is bad-ass. The choregraphed fighting in the video is priceless, evoking an early eighties West Side Story. You get the sense Jackson is both desperate to fit in, but at the same time, determined to go his own way. 

And then there is that unmistakable rousing beat of Billie Jean which still sends people squealing to the dance floor. I try not to think too much about the lyrics - the woman scheming after MJ kind of confounds me. 

The longevity of these songs is breathtaking. Thriller still sounds as exciting as it did when you first heard it. And Wanna Be Starting Something still makes me lose my mind. You know you've got it stuffed away in a cupboard somewhere. Find it and dust it off. 

Antics - Interpol

We know, we know - we've been lazy. Nonetheless, we've now relocated to the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. Tonight's Classic Album is bought to you by a cup of tea but now that Ramadan is over, we'll rectify that soon enough.

Interpol's extraordinary second album, Antics, was released in 2004. Their first, critically acclaimed album, Turn on the Bright Lights, was dark, angsty rock - brilliant but far from unique. I don't think I've heard another album like Antics. It's melodic and almost funky. It's still dark but it's not bleak, with lyrics that talk about love as being something other than a curse.

The opening song, Next Exit forms around a slow chant. After seeing their electric show at Splendour in 2005, my friend and I entertained the bus queue by singing Next Exit drunkenly and loudly. Those who knew the lyrics joined in. Others cursed us for ruining their formative memories of such an exciting show.

Evil is a stand-out on a seamless, tight album (check out the disturbing film clip). It slowly builds up momentum, carried along by a driving bass line, before pausing breathlessly and launching into the crescendo of the chorus. Banks' vocals resonate inside your head (even if we still have no idea what he's talking about...)

Slow Hands is also thrilling live. As good a gig-memory as I have in my rock-addled brain. It's got a dance-floor beat, thumping riff, and Banks' haunting vocals lifting you into the rousing chorus. It also has my all-time favourite rock lyric - "you make me want to pick up a guitar and celebrate the myriad ways that I love you". I think it may have appeared on a mix tape for L early on in our relationship.

Banks' vocals warrant mentioning. They are baritone, and at times monotone. He sounds like the monster out of a 1950s horror picked up a microphone and started singing in a plea for his lost love. With a funky emo rhythm section backing him. And before you get the wrong impression, that's a good thing.

So if you are concerned about your 15 year old nephew starting to look like Pete Wentz, give them this album for Eid and they'll be fine. The rock music will win out in the end. In the mean time, this album strangely suits a summer evening in Amman on the balcony.

Rage Guest Programming...

Rage is a big part of any kid's musical education. Later and later on each Friday or Saturday night, pushing your eyelids open, just to see what the next song was... At 2am, three inches away from the screen because you didn't want mum to know you were still watching rage UNKLE's Rabbit in Your Headlights or Aphex Twin's Come to Daddy, both of which were scarier than any horror film. 

The recent rage silver jubilee program was so joyful - John Farnham's Pressure Down, Salt-n-Pepa's Shoop and Pat Benatar's Love is a Battlefield and Madonna's Vogue. Keith Urban is programming rage tonight. The only reason I would be a famous musician is so I could guest program rage. No need when you have a bottle of wine and youtube. So tonight's Classic Album Martini Saturday deviation is L & B's fantasy rage guest program playlist. 

Janet Jackson - Rhythm Nation

I have a video of Janet Jackson videos, well-worn from playing and rewinding and playing and rewinding trying to learn these dance moves. 1814 is a great political record - more pop stars need to take a leaf out Janet's book (ah to show my age...) 

Radiohead - Paranoid Android

A film clip that matches the majesty and tragedy of the song. 

Kanye West and Jay-Z - Otis

Spike Jones ensures these two arrogant, talented rappers at the top of their game can do no wrong. Kanye is the king of the videos. And this, like the song, is three minutes of pure gold. 

Bruce Springsteen - Glory Days

This is not the greatest Bruce song, but it's the one I want to end all my nights with. 

Work it - Missy Elliot

Missy Elliot clips are always something else but with Work it, it takes on a whole new level of urgency and craziness. Love it. 

Pass the Courvoisier - Busta Rhymes

One of the most beautifully over the top hip hop film clips. I love the way Busta and Diddy push each other out of the way to get to the camera, and the discovery of Pharrell indisposed under the pool table is hilarious. The final third is a crazy non-sequitir, with Jamie Foxx appearing out of nowhere (and not contributing to the song) to help Busta and Diddy fight their way out of a massage parlour in bathrobes. And it has Mr T. 

Berlin Chair - You Am I

A popular pick on rage, the two dancers exude such enthusiasm. The joy of the clip is equal to the passion of the song. Also good for the awful haircuts displayed by all band members.

So What Cha Want - Beastie Boys

Three Beastie Boys in a forest rapping into the camera. I remember me and my brother trying to time a massive jump to land at the start of the rhyme, Ad Rock style.

Sukiyaki - Kyu Samamoto

I love this song. The constant smile on Kyu's face is a joy forever, particularly after the whistle solo.

Love in an Elevator - Aerosmith

Steve Tyler is wearing some kind of red body suit jacket thing with matching red leggings. He looks amazing. Tyler said "As you know, I'm androgynous. I can wear a jacket that most guys wouldn't put on. But you make it in guys' sizes, and suddenly they're wearing them. I think styles should get back to getting people to wear things that look so good that they don't care."

El Camino - The Black Keys

Too soon?

El Camino, The Black Key's 7th album from 2011, has turned them into rock and roll superstars. This is not their only album in the basket, but it has a pulse and energy that has made it one of our favourite albums of the last few years.

We can't remember finding music this exciting in a long time. It's as energising as Aha Shake Heartbreak or Is This It. A great soundtrack for driving, parties, Sunday mornings and anytime you want to feel alive.

Lonely Boy is electric, with a riff that punches you in the chest and then knees you in the balls. It rocketed to number 2 in last year's Hottest 100. While we like Gotye, Lonely Boy would get Somebody I Used to Know drunk on whiskey and have its way with her. When B came up with it in the sweep at the annual Hottest 100 party, he was made to dance on top of a slippery esky while being sprayed with - and spraying others - with cheap sparkling. While the clip is sweet, this would have made for an even better video.  L wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

While The Black Keys are a two-piece and have recorded albums as such, make no mistake that there's a whole lot of instruments and production on this album. Even though it's tighter and more polished than some of their previous albums, thanks to producer, Danger Mouse, this is no Kings of Leon-style move into the pop sphere. It's pure, in-your-face rhythm and blues. El Camino may have made The Black Keys the hottest rock band in the world, there is no need for backlash from the fans. This album would be big whatever decade it was recorded in.

The strongest songs include Gold on the Ceiling, Money Maker and Sister. Bugger it, they're all brilliant. 

If you've got somewhere to drive to tomorrow, stick Run Right Back in the car stereo and hope there's no double demerit points. The wailing guitar will have your foot pumping the accelerator. The only disconcerting part of this song is that the bridge sounds exactly like Spirit in the Sky by Norman Greenbaum. Good song and all, but it takes B back right back to his christian youth group days.

Drinkify said we should be drinking Canadian Club, lime juice and rum, fucking, rum. Instead, we're celebrating with our newest favourite drink - gin, Campari and sweet vermouth. Doesn't matter, as long as El Camino is playing loud.

Otis Redding Sings Soul - Otis Redding

Prepare for some gushing. We love Otis Redding and have ceded our (yet to exist) first child's name to his honour. Every song on this album is pants-wettingly brilliant.

Singling out an Otis album is difficult. His whole catalogue is outstanding and fits together seamlessly. Our preferred method of listening is to stick his albums on back to back to back etc and enjoy it all. From the funky dance numbers to the aching blues pieces. Soul is an odd genre - it encompasses a range of styles from rhythm and blues to funk to gospel. Who cares what we call it. Otis spans the full spectrum on this album and listening to it is a pure, joyful, celebration.

The riff to Ole Man Trouble is a offbeat welcome to the album. Otis' raspy holler pleads for some respite from the troubles in his life and even though we have none, we too plead for ole man trouble to get off our backs.

Otis' Respect and A Change is Gonna Come are not the definitive versions of these songs but they're probably our favourites. The lyrics to Respect are the same, but the music is completely different to Aretha's version. It's almost a big band number, with some sweet brass riffs. Respect is Otis asking his girl, to whom he's about to give all his money, to show him just a little respect. Ain't too much to ask is it?

A Change is Gonna Come is not as plaintive or polished as Sam Cooke's. Otis injects jazz arrangements to the song, giving it a rhythm and energy that the original lacked.

While Otis' voice is unequalled, the rhythm section on the album is extraordinary, producing some of the tightest, subtlest rhythm and blues you'll ever have the privilege to hear. We didn't realise till tonight that it was Booker T and the MGs, so now it makes a lot more sense. They pull back and let Otis wail, and then they take over and ignite the song. While we're not experts on production, the quality of the sound and the mixing on this album is excellent, beyond what you would expect to hear on a 1965 recording. The talent behind the album is exceptional - Isaac Hayes and Steve Cropper produced.

My favourite moment is Satisfaction. The Stones broke in the UK on the strength of covering rhythm and blues and soul numbers written by artists like Otis. Here Otis reciprocates, covering one of the first original songs the Stones finally got around to writing. Again, it's a completely different arrangement, with less of the dirty aggression of the original and more seduction.

No matter that it's a cliche, My Girl is a great and beautiful song. And then you hear Wonderful World  and it's funkier and more beautiful - pure ecstasy.

When god invented music, he had Otis in mind.

It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back - Public Enemy

We didn't own this album until today. I know, I know we should be ashamed and we are. This is the greatest hip hop album of all time. Public Enemy's second album of 1988, It Takes a Nation of Millions... is an unrelenting masterpiece. We really don't have a right to blog about this after two listens, let alone the fact that we are white, middle class, public servants in Australia, however that's never stopped wangs on the internet before. And we're drinking prosecco with campari - ha!

This album is intense, cutting and political. Chuck D's lyrics are aggressive and challenging and still uncomfortable - "They could not understand that I'm a black man And I could never be a veteran". And he doesn't let up for 16 tracks. Flavor adds a randomness to it that doesn't leave you completely alienated from the album. We can only imagine how these sorts of lyrics revolutionised hip hop. Gangsta rappers claimed to be inspired by PE - you can't help but think that Chuck D would have been embarrassed by the violent, cowardly misogyny of the worst of west coast rap.

And the music is simply brilliant. Sonically it more than matches Chuck D's lyrical prowess. The tense, in-your-face beats don't relent for the entire album - each song fits seamlessly into the next without being repetitive. You want to dance but also thrash your head. Somehow Terminator X, Eric 'Vietnam' Sadler and Hank Shocklee bring together a crap load of samples to form a entirely new and never beaten sound.

Don't Believe The Hype is the quintessential track.  Chuck D's flow is rythmic, fluid and resonant, while Flavor chimes in with the rousing chant. The beats are undeniable and exhausting, like you're in the middle or a riot with sirens blaring and drums thumping. Like all the tracks, the music is tense, wired and antagonistic.

Chuck D spits on love songs on Caught, Can I Get a Witness: "You singers are spineless. As you sing your senseless song to the mindless. Your general subject love is minimal. It's sex for profit."
So I wonder how he feels about Flavor Flav's ridiculous Flavor of Love...or appearance on Celebrity Wife Swap? Though he's always been a wack-job. I guess sex for profit always wins in the end.

This album remains hugely influential. Its a call to arms that hasn't really been beaten and it marks an era of rappers long gone. It's never too late to get on the bandwagon.

Dummy - Portishead

Everyone our age has this album in their collection. And if they don't, they either didn't have any taste or made it through the nineties without trying to impress a girl.

Rolling Stone call it a bizarre love triangle between a girl, a guy and a sampler. Spot on, but doesn't quite explain the haunting sexiness of Beth Gittons' voice or the slow funky beats of Geoff Barrow. Portishead's debut album from 1994 is simply beautiful. It's hard to write about this album without resorting to cliches. Like their Bristol counterparts Massive Attack, Portishead revolutionalised British music mostly for the better, but you must also admit, oftentimes for the worse. Who knows what came first? Cafes or cafe music.

The album is a slow grind of hip hop beats, combined with smooth jazz and soaring vocals. It's funky and contagious and it gets at you in a quiet, but compelling way.

There are definitely highlight tracks, such as Wandering Star and Numb, but this album is far more than the sum of its parts. I'm not sure anyone has ever listened to the tracks individually. It was always the album that you put on at the end of the night when most people had left the party and those who hadn't were draining any remaining bottles lying around the house. Or when you got home and frantically searched through the CD stack for an album that would aid your seduction efforts. This was always a safe bet because girls love it.

Although the risk is that when you get to a song like Roads, which is a tortured song of regret with exquisite vocals from Beth, you both end up feeling sad and raking over memories and disappointments.

The final track, Glory Box is the pinnacle of woe is woman, why don't boys appreciate me for who I am, only my girlfriends understand me etc etc... And many a time it has been ruined by young girls screeching in their bedroom, straining, yet failing, to reach Gitton's voice. Lemon stollies, you have a lot to answer for.

This album sounds as delicate, dark and edgy as it did back when you listened to it every weekend. Pour a glass of heavy red, dim the lights and let it wash over you.

Dinah Sings Bessie Smith - Dinah Washington

You probably don't own this 1958 album. Which is a shame because it's brilliant. And it's really hard to find. We had to have it imported from the Netherlands. Through Basement Discs in Melbourne. Aren't we cool. Yes, given we don't actually dig to find albums very often and because we love it so much there is a particular smugness in our relationship with it.

It's late March in Canberra so it is one of the last nights we'll comfortably sit outside. So we're smoking cigars and we'll probably have a bourbon after our martini. This is a night for nostalgia. For an era you don't really know anything about but wish to be a part of all the same.

Like so many blues greats, these songs are infused by tragedy. Bessie Smith grew up in the deep, deep south, developing her talent in a 'travelling minstrel show' and confined to performing to black audiences. Her popularity with white audiences really only grew after her death. Her decline was brought about by alcoholism but her death was the result of racism. After a car accident, she was denied treatment at a 'white's only' hospital and bled to death on the way to find another.

We think of Dinah mostly for her sentimental, slow, love songs. There's a couple on here, but her tribute to Bessie, recorded twenty years after Bessie's death, is blues and dixie jazz. Her voice is powerful, raspy and seductive. Most often it's Nina Simone we turn to for oomph, but Dinah more than brings it.

Send Me to the 'Lectric Chair is wonderful because, in a time when many blues numbers were about killing your cheatin', disrespeccin' lady, it's about a woman proudly owning up to "slitting her good man's throat" and asking to be slain rather than rotting in jail.

You've Been a Good Old Wagon is a serenade to a broken wagon. It's a testament to Dinah's singing that lamenting a broken cart sounds so sorrowful and wrenching. We're going to write a tune about L's late 1984 Sigma. It will break your heart.

The tremendous thing about these tunes is that there's four or five instruments playing lead at the same time. The vocals, keys, clarinet, trombone and trumpet all battle the others for the spotlight, each playing their own intricate melody but still fitting together to create ornate songs. And as much as we love the clarinet, Dinah's voice wins out every time.

We discovered this album after hearing Back Water Blues on a plane. Even through the crappy Qantas headphones, her voice blew you away. It's an astonishing song, breathtaking every time. It's about the flood in New Orleans in 1911, when the black community was left to fend for itself. Almost one hundred years later America, while so much had changed, there is still a ways to go.

This is a beautiful album with style and grace and guts. Go and find it for your next Saturday night at home with your gin.

Harvest - Neil Young

Harvest. Possibly the most classic of all classic albums.

This album turned Neil Young into an icon for hippies, civil rights activists and progressives everywhere. Young wrote protest songs without Dylan's irony. He is earnest, angry and downhome country.

The album sidles into the lounge room with two lackadaisical country stomps. It sounds as if Young and the Stray Gators sat around in a barn, sparked something up and let the tunes flow. And the reason it sounds like that is because that's exactly what they did.

Overwrought orchestral arrangements give A Man Needs a Maid a sophistication and melodrama that now sound eccentric. The song is brilliant for its unusual conclusion - after a break up, Young decides that he should give up on love and hire a maid to fulfil the domestic share of the relationship.

Heart of Gold kicks you in the guts with every listen. It remains one of the most powerful songs ever written. At its essence is a sincere and heartfelt hope for communalism, justice and equality. This is also the essence of the album.

Old Man was the other hit single from the album. It's a beautifully naive lament about growing up and getting old, breaking out into an anthemic chorus.

The album sometimes feels disjointed - but, somehow, not in a bad way. The difference in sound between the songs recorded in the studio and those recorded in Young's barn is stark.  Young dragged musician friends (like Linda Ronstandt and James Taylor) into the studio late at night to record tracks like Heart of Gold and Alabama, overlaying lead guitar later.

The loose group singing backing vocals on Alabama are perfect for its indictment of southern prejudice. The indignant young musicians gathered around a microphone and sang their disdain and hope for change.

Check out Rolling Stones' savaging of the album at the time, describing the lyrics as banal and the tunes insipid. It's worth reading not only as an historical curiosity but for its dreadful writing, so convoluted and pretentious it makes our writing seem understated.

The review is wrong in thinking Young's earnestness and hope is naive and glib.  The album just turned 40; its enduring popularity is testament to its sincerity and power.

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

Early in our relationship, one Valentine's Day, B told me "you ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright." And my heart melted. In a moment, I knew that he got it. He got my obsession with Bruce.

(B would like to add, btw, that he said it not because he believed it, but because he knew she loved the line).


Simply put dear reader, this is the greatest album of all time. L is not sure she can write about it and do it any justice. Thunder Road. Tenth Avenue Freeze Out. Jungleland. Born to Run. Born to Run is on most mix tapes, cd or playlist we've ever made and is always the first song played in the car on every road trip to Melbourne. Of course, only once we get past Hall and can put the foot on the gas.


L once heard Bruce talk about Born to Run album cover. As you open the sleeve, you see Bruce leaning on E Street Band saxophonist, Clarence Clemons. He describes the cover as an invitation to join the band. Thunder Road, the opening track, was Bruce's invitation to the album.

The song starts slowly with a lonely harmonica wail. It picks up speed as Bruce describes a vision: "the screen door slams, Wendy's dress sways". It's a simple but evocative image, which takes you somewhere else - straight into small town America. No songwriter has mastered imagery like Bruce. Indeed, he's more a storyteller than a songwriter. And there's many a novelist who could do well to learn from Bruce's pithiness. It doesn't take him 60,000 words to tell a tale.

Born to Run is extraordinary. Every listen makes us want to pack up our lives and get in a car and just go. What stops us is that we'd make it to Yass and realise it's not as easy as it sounds. That's the tragedy of the characters in Born to Run. We know that for all their enthusiasm and pent-up energy, they're not going to find escape and release.  The song apparently took six months to record, with overdub after overdub. Listen to the song closely and repeatedly and you can hear how it is painstakingly constructed. It's worth it. Every bar is a masterpiece; it's never been bested.

Bruce has made great solo albums but the E Street Band take his songs to a whole nother level. Each member of the band is a great talent and there's an unusual egalitarianism to the songs' production. No part dominates the other. Each instrument equally vies for your attention, which makes the album anything but subtle. The complementarity shows a band of geniuses working in perfect harmony.

Of course, Bruce is the pinnacle. His vocals are raw, rock and roll. But he has range and he can do it soft or loud. And when he's loud he's electrifying. The best there ever was.

Jungleland warrants mentioning because it's the world in a song. It doesn't have a single narrative arc, it has multiple. From highs to lows to deeper lows and the most breathtaking pinnacle. Our favourite line is "down here the poets don't write nothing at all, they just sit back and let it all be". Clarence's sax solo is magnificent. In a world where "sax solo" has rightfully become a dirty phrase, this stands alone.

It's a town full of losers. I'm pulling out of here to win.

Heartbreaker - Ryan Adams

And we're back. Christmas holidays, milestone birthdays, Hottest 100 and finally we've returned to the routine of a martini, an overly ambitious meal and a classic album. How I have missed martinis.

What an exquisite album to bring us into 2012. Ryan Adam's debut solo album from 2000 is his masterpiece. It opens with a rockabilly foot stomp, To Be Young, which incites some backyard dancing at Martini Saturdays headquarters. It's followed up with My Winding Wheel, which is a beautifully optimistic love song. In fact they are all beautiful love songs, either about wanting someone, finding someone or losing someone. There is no shortage of women who have fallen in love listening to this album.

Ryan is usually categorised as 'alt-country'; we've always doubted the utility of this term because it seems to only ever be used to describe Ryan Adams and Wilco. In which case, it is probably the greatest music genre of recent times.

My Sweet Carolina is a lonesome travelling ballad about loss, hope, thwarted ambition and missing your home. That is, it's like nearly all country ballads. It says something about the universality of these emotions that such a popular and enduring genre barely covers anything else. Also, like so many country ballads, Emmylou Harris and her ageless voice provide sweet backing vocals.

Ryan's band, Whiskeytown, whom he left just before recording Heartbreaker, were a fun country band. But they didn't have the raw, subtle, brilliant melodies of Heartbreaker and (some of) Ryan's subsequent albums. Tracks 8-10 are the perfected and quintessential core of this album. Damn Sam is a simple tune with confused metaphors, but it's one of the first of his songs that I fell in love with. Come Pick Me Up is his classic, the song most often cited as his best. And even after a thousand listens, the first notes of the harmonica still have enough power to kick you in the guts.

To Be the One is Ryan musing on the night before, with a guitar in hand. I can never decide whether is about a relationship break up or a one night stand. This track has some great lyrics - "I don't know which is worse: to wake up and see the sun, or to be the one that's gone". And the best line on the album - "the empty bottle it misses you and I'm the one it's talking to".

There is a quiet intimacy to this album that no other Ryan Adams' album quite reaches. It's best enjoyed when you're drinking by yourself, late at night with headphones on, yearning for someone to share it with you (but knowing they'd ruin the wonderful loneliness).

For those of you familiar with Ryan, we can't write this blog post without acknowledging that he's a complete wang. I love him and (almost) everything he releases. However, the one time I've seen him live he was terrible. A prima donna who couldn't be bothered to perform. We're seeing him at the Forum in Melbourne next month on the back of his best release in five years (Ashes & Fire). He better bring it this time.