Ryan Adams
Love Is Hell, Pt. 1
Love Is Hell, Pt. 2
Lost Highway Records

The bar is lit by a few bare bulbs hanging from the cracked ceiling and the numerous flickering beer signs. Cigarette smoke has infused everything over the years, leaving the peeling wallpaper slightly jaundiced. Gram Parsons' "Hot Burrito #1" echoes hollowly from a decrepit jukebox while two people lean awkwardly at the bar, hovering over their glasses of whisky and beer. If one of them were singer/songwriter Ryan Adams, he would certainly be in his element, at least according to the image Adams carefully cultivated for himself early in his solo career and as the singer of Whiskeytown. Wearing his broken heart pinned to his leather jacket sleeve, Adams would tell tales of relationships sabotaged by too much drinking and promises that failed to realize their potential; he would whisper to you that this was the hard life of a county singer.

In recent years, however, Adams has gone off the bar stool in pursuit of other musical territories to upend.

Country music purists might have you believe Adams has betrayed the promise of his former band, a mainstay of the burgeoning '90s alt-country scene. They might also claim that Adams' solo work in the years since has steadily moved away from those roots and, as his latest album Rock N Roll proclaims, headlong into the arms of, well, rock 'n' roll. And they would be somewhat right — Rock N Roll is crammed with amped-up tunes and power chords that seem as far away from "country" as one can get.

Similarly, Johnny Cash will probably always be defined as a country singer, but he made a career out of playing all types of music, and — as his final album, The Man Comes Around, demonstrates — making them his own. Joe Pernice created a smooth transition from the dark, American roots ballads of the Scud Mountain Boys to the melancholic, orchestral pop of his current project the Pernice Brothers. Jeff Tweedy and Wilco have become musically adventurous, moving from the lush sounds of Beatles- and Beach Boys-inspired pop, to the noisier, experimental trappings of their last record, all the while still staying true to their country/rock beginnings. Adams' own influences and musical leanings also reach far beyond the realm of country (he was in a punk band in high school), so it should be of no surprise that Adams would eventually want to tinker with other genres as well.

Of course these flirtations with other styles don't always work as the artist intended, which brings us back to Rock N Roll and why Adams' two recent Love Is Hell EPs (parts one and two, natch), are far better.

The two parts of Love Is Hell were allegedly first attempts at an album, meant to be Adams' official follow-up to 2001's Gold. But since those cuts boasted none of the '60s and '70s-inspired, radio-friendly music of the previous album, Adams' record label Lost Highway sent him back into the studio. The result of that extra studio time was Rock N Roll, which should have been forgotten, while Love Is Hell, Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 were packaged as an entire album and sent out into the world.

The EPs mark a partial return to Adams' country roots. Stripped of arrangements, the songs are mostly brooding ballads, shadowy blends of folk mixed with traditional country that highlight Adams' shaky voice and caustic songwriting.

"Political Scientist" opens Love Is Hell, Pt. 1 with a piano played in soft jabs accompanied by Adams' gasping voice and later, a jangly, dissonant electric guitar and an organ that is barely there. Toward the end, the song turns in on itself while Adams' voice launches beyond its range and becomes fittingly manic as he repeatedly intones, "There are no guarantees." "This House Is Not for Sale" hearkens back to his Whiskeytown glory days; it's a mid-tempo number starring his ragged voice at its best over painful melodies full of regret. The title track, "Love Is Hell," with its propelling country-fried rock hooks, could have been penned by Paul Westerberg, while the beautifully solemn "World War 24" would make Morrissey proud.

Pt. 2 continues along the same lines, showcasing low-key numbers that draw on many of the influences that made Adams' Whiskeytown and early solo work so strong. "English Girls Can Be So Mean" finds Adams singing with a hint of playfulness, cramming words together as he did with Gold hit single "New York, New York." "City Rain, City Streets" employs laid-back instrumentation, peppered with piano and lazily stroked, tremolo-soaked guitar. A pedal steel slide accents "Please Don't Let Me Go," while acoustic guitars meander along. On the spare "I See Monsters," a folksy ballad buoyed by verdant harmonies, the guitar picking crackles.

There are a few rockers on these two EPs, but nothing as soulless as the songs on Rock N Roll. The "rock" tracks on these discs still have some teeth, at times as jagged and messy as the tumultuous relationships that Adams so often writes about. The only low point of either EP is a pointless cover of Oasis' "Wonderwall."

If Rock N Roll was the most current reflection of Adams' career, he would be easy enough to write off as a songwriter who started strong but ended otherwise. His songs would eventually be forgotten, exiled to used music bins. Fortunately, both parts of Love Is Hell dispel this notion. They reveal Adams to be a stalwart songwriter who's at his best when he's cultivating the country music inclinations he started with, sitting on that bar stool and telling stories to anyone who will listen.

— Scott Brothers (scottb@grandbovine.com)