Love is Hell - Ryan Adams (Jeremy)
Ryan Adams has been so prolific dating back to his time in Whiskeytown in the 1990s that, possibly aside from Heartbreaker, his solo debut, you could say all of his records are under-appreciated. Of course, because he’s been so prolific, not every album is equally good. I wouldn’t say he’s made a bad record, but they definitely vary in quality from good, at worst, to all-time classic at best. Love is Hell was released May 4, 2004 and I’d make the argument that the record is his greatest work.
I don’t remember exactly how I discovered Ryan Adams, possibly an issue of No Depression, but I do remember, very vividly, driving to Best Buy in Indianapolis the day Gold was released and buying it, Heartbreaker and Stranger’s Almanac by Whiskeytown at the same time. It’s safe to say that buying those records changed my musical trajectory. I have seen him live as many times as anyone, save for Social Distortion. The first show was with my friend Anthony at the Riviera in Chicago when he opened for Lucinda Williams in 2001, prior to my moving to Los Angeles a few months later. I believe that show was in December, so only two months after Gold was released and after 9/11.
When I got to Los Angeles, my obsession with his music only got deeper. I traded bootlegs with my friend Jeremy back home and I would spend what few bucks I had on Guinness at Boardner’s every weekend because I knew he liked to hang out there (I never did meet him). I would drive home from the bars to the soundtrack of Whiskeytown. I remember going out one night with Tasha Valentine, later of Nashville Star season one, and her telling me I might have an unhealthy relationship with Ryan (we were probably going to Boarnder’s, possibly the night we sat in a booth with Fred Durst’s Samoan bodyguard). His music soothed my loneliness and gave me permission to channel my love of old country and my love of punk into something slower, darker and more acoustic.
Love is Hell was released about a month before I left Los Angeles for the first time (headed for Chicago that time) and again, I distinctly remember going to Amoeba and buying both Volume 1 & 2 at the same time and immediately heading home to listen (I only had a cassette player in my truck at the time). Adams’ label, Lost Highway, didn’t want to release the John Porter produced album, saying it was too “alternative” and so Adams ran into the studio with some friends from New York and cranked out Rock & Roll in two weeks and handed it over at the same time. Lost Highway relented, agreeing to release it as two EPs (if you find it on streaming platforms, it’s listed as a compilation in it’s later, full-length LP version).
This record, produced by long-time Smiths producer John Porter, owes a lot to Adams’ love of The Smiths and Morrissey as well as other influences. Always known for being moody, this record really explores a moment of reflection. Turning thirty will do that. On “Anybody Wanna Take Me Home” he sings, “I am in the twilight of my youth, not that I’m going to remember.” It’s a portrait of a life where freedom is explored to its fullest extent but yet a life still incomplete. The melancholy of this record is neither depressing, nor hopeful; it simply is. It’s more like a photo album than a novel. Each page, a snapshot of a moment to be remembered; if not always cherished.
My favorite track on the record is easily “This House is Not for Sale”. An imagined conversation between two ghosts, formerly a couple who lived in this home that’s now vacant and on the market. On the surface, it’s very tongue-in-cheek, but the more time you spend with it, it’s a portrait of a love that is greater than the space in which it inhabits. I’ve always imagined this is the couple from “In My Time of Need”, my favorite track off of Heartbreaker.
“Wonderwall”, of course is brilliantly done. Even Noel Gallagher said, “Ryan Adams is really the only one who ever did that song right.”
Vocally, Adams has always managed to balance the brash, cocky rock star with the tortured and vulnerable poet. As the record progresses, we get far more of the poet than the rock star. Anxiety, depression, substances, loneliness… his lyrics are brought to life by his expert delivery, in that soft, coastal Carolina twang and matched perfectly by Porter’s production. Perhaps my favorite example of Porter’s production is on “The Shadowlands”. The majority of the song is softly delivered on just voice and piano. There’s almost no reverb on his voice, he’s in the room with you, but the piano sounds like it’s sitting on the other side of the house. Then as it builds, everything gets close and glues together before a full instrumental outro bringing the song home.
One strange production note is on “World War 24”. The majority of the drums are panned hard left, and while the snare pops, it definitely sounds like overheads while all the melodic guitar lines are panned hard right and everything else is coming down the center. This makes me want to do a deeper dive on some Smiths records with the headphones on. Not something you notice in the car or on the home stereo, but something you hear in the headphones clearly and a technique you don’t come across every day.
On “Please Do Not Let Me Go” and “English Girls Approximately” he returns to his comfort zone, a very poetic, Blood on the Tracks era, Dylanesque folk rock style that he does better than just about anyone.
There always seems to be one heavily R&B influenced track on every album, typically towards the end. “Hotel Chelsea Nights” is the one on this album. The lead vocal is expertly doubled here, with the clean lead coming through the center with a slightly overdriven, pre-delayed vocal coming in hard left to give it some grit.
I definitely think Love is Hell is his best record, but it’s hard to pick a favorite, although this is probably top three along with Cold Roses and Heartbreaker (not counting Whiskeytown). It definitely represents a marker in my life and fandom. After the show in Chicago, I saw him open for Alanis Morrissette at the Universal Amphitheater, play solo at the Wiltern (right after the infamous “Summer of ‘69” episode in Nashville), and walk on stage with Jess Malin at the Troubadour. Then, after moving to Chicago, I saw Jesse open for him at the Riviera and saw him play at the Chicago Theater while touring for Easy Tiger. I’ve not seen him live since, but I have followed his career, and, thanks to the weirdness that is social media, we’ve actually encouraged each other’s sobriety through Instagram.
Lastly, I think one of the things I love about him most, as much as I love his ability to capture certain emotions I share via song, is his willingness to follow his muse and not care about how people respond to it. That’s what makes him an artist and not just a musician. From a business perspective, Lost Highway was right, the alt-country crowd I don’t think dug this as much, but it’s genius. He had to make this record and he had to share it. And God bless him for it.