There is a baseline of quality on any album, the line against which each song is individually measured that determines which songs are the standout tracks. The standard of quality on Ryan Adams’ new Ashes & Fire is pretty high. The songs are well-written, tight, and polished. Adams knows how to write a good song and on Ashes he’s assembled eleven of them. Which is perversely my issue with it: nothing here stands out. The album is a plateau, not a mountain, and that for me is the kiss of death.
With no high points, no summit upon which to sit and gaze out in wonderment at all the beauty, the journey simply feels less satisfying. Which isn’t to say I don’t like the album. I do. I just feel sorry for it because I know that in six months time when I need a Ryan Adams fix I’ll still be throwing on Love is Hell.