The Sadies—Colder Streams (Yep Roc)
Photo by Chris Colohan
This 11th album from Canada’s pre-eminent bluegrass psychedelicists may well be the last, or at least the last of an era, as it comes five months after the sudden death of the band’s guitarist, songwriter and singer Dallas Good. His passing was a shock to everyone. He was still in his 50s and, except for the pandemic, had shown no signs whatsoever of slowing down. Tall, pale, skeletally thin, inordinately knowledgeable and skilled, yet possessed of a sly, self-deprecating wit, Dallas Good was the heart and soul of this band, and it’s hard to imagine it going on without him.
And yet, if the Sadies had set out to make a final statement—and let’s be clear, they did not—they could hardly have done better than Colder Streams, a swirling, trippy summation of their journey so far. The core band of Dallas, his brother Travis on guitar and assorted other instruments, Sean Dean on bass and Mike Belitsky on drums, has never sounded more freewheeling. Producer Richard Reed Parry of Arcade Fire brings out the anthemic in their monster choruses. Long-time collaborator Jon Spencer plays the fuzz guitar. Margaret and Bruce Good, who introduced both Good brothers to the speed and sweetness of bluegrass at an early age, sing and play on the two most traditional tracks. We should all get one last blow-out session with the people we love best before we go, and Dallas Good certainly had his.
The Sadies have always straddled at least two very different genres. On the one hand, they embody a gloriously romantic garage psych tradition that stretches from Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd through the surf-guitar-clanging West Coast tradition, skips over the Pacific to hit Aussie bands like the Saints and the Scientists and recurs periodically whenever “Rock Is Back” gets declared. On the other, they are really, really good at the bluegrass, country and blues styles at the root of nearly all popular music. Colder Streams leans decidedly towards the former, in a string of dark-toned, guitar-droning rock songs, including only a couple of country cuts. But things are never so clearly defined. “Message to Belial,” which rocks as hard and as mournfully as any Sadies song, has a radiant little interval of country mandolin picking. And “All the Good,” which ambles and frolics with rustic banjo, has more than a touch of rock swagger to it, in the minor-key resiliency of its chorus. “When I search for answers, questions are all I find,” sings Good, and he and his band are as hard to pin down as the world he tries to parse.
The whole album is great, but if I had to pick a favorite, it would undoubtedly be “No One’s Listening,” a song that rages and wails, with wild flailing guitar lines and raucous drums. There are two guitar solos in this song, one in the middle and one in at the end, and both of them are on fire. Yet, as is often the case with Sadies songs, a gentle melancholy sits at the core. The melody keens and curves with rueful knowledge, as lovely as the smile of a friend who is very, very tired.
You may find yourself with exactly that kind of smile on your face as you listen to Colder Streams, as exhilarating highs crash into bittersweet intervals of contemplation. It’s an album about getting older, about coming to terms, about death even, though not specifically about Dallas Good’s death. It rages against inevitability and croons into the darkness, and it’s beautiful. The story ends for everyone eventually, but very few people make this kind of statement before they go.
Jennifer Kelly
