Welcome to Sadie Ranch, where a man can be a man and there ain't a cow that can't be tamed. Later on, we'll be corralling steers into the pen, watering horses and tending to repairs-- I hope you didn't expect this to be easy work! But it ain't all backbreakin' labor out here on the range; come evenin' we'll have a good, old-fashioned cowboy campfire, eat some good Tex-Mex grub, and sing some of those good ol' prairie songs. After that, we'll drop some acid and hit the waves at high tide-- that's when the surfin's best!
Toronto's Sadies see no barriers between old-fashioned country 'n' western, Duane Eddy surf rave-ups and freaky psychedelic rock. If they perceive distance between those sounds at all, they've attempted to traverse it on their fourth album, Stories Often Told. The album feels like a step toward something more complete, as though the one that follows it will deliver the fully functioning Frankenstein they're trying to animate.
Stories Often Told opens up with one of several widescreen blasts of spray and sea foam, drenching the quartet's twang in deep reverb. The galloping rhythms underneath are about halfway between John Wayne and Annette Funicello, if you can imagine it. Waves wash over the record constantly, but they're most enjoyable in concentrated bursts: Tight surf instrumentals like the graceful waltz "A#1" and "Monkey & Cork" are the most easily enjoyable songs here. "Mile Over Mecca" is a change of pace, and one of the most interesting songs the Sadies have done yet, submerging a slower surf melody under Rio Grande horns and psychedelic ambience.
The Sadies stumble when they sit down around the proverbial fire to crank out old-fashioned C & W. They're not bad as a country band, but the album is bogged down by the slower tempos and under-developed melodies in songs like the pedal-steel "Such a Little Word", or their limp duet "A Steep Climb". When these country leanings collide with their surf jones, the results are fantastic, especially on the loping "Oak Ridges", where Dallas Good's Johnny Cash baritone sounds right at home amongst huge twang guitars. The shuffling folk of "The Story's Often Told" works the combination more subtly, transferring the sheets of reverb over to the steel guitar, which enshrouds the dusty campfire ballad in a gossamer cloud.
Their biggest departure is undoubtedly "Of Our Land", which starts with a guitar progression exactly like the beginning of "Stairway to Heaven", then cuts off a credible slice of gnomes & fairies psych-rock, served up smothered in more reverb and phaser. To call it an entirely successful detour into psychedelia would be an overstatement-- it's not quite focused enough to be truly great-- but it's certainly entertaining, not to mention entirely unexpected.
Ultimately, the Sadies seem just a touch away from creating a viable, unique genre, and I'll be dead honest with you: I would buy an album of psychedelic cowboy surf rock. If you think that prospect sounds appealing-- if you were raised on the Butthole Surfers and wondered when their insanity would come home to roost-- Stories Often Told is worth a listen. Their genre synthesis isn't quite complete, but it's getting there, which is often half the fun.
