The announcement of his engagement to singer-actress Mandy Moore capped a strange start to 2009 for Ryan Adams, who had kicked the year off with even more cryptic blog posts and a threat/promise that he was quitting music for good. That entry was quickly deleted, signaling either a renewed commitment to songcraft or a realization that he's more qualified to be a singer-songwriter than anything else. So perhaps his impending nuptials are the reason for the more-intense-than-usual weirdness emanating from Camp Adams and for Extra Cheese, an iTunes-only EP featuring six previously released songs and a studio version of an obscure, 10-year-old live track. Ostensibly this collection of babymaking music is a Valentine's Day tie-in, but it might double as a mixtape to the future Mrs. Adams. Or triple as a sort of non-chronological career retrospective-- a greatest-hits package with no actual hits.
As such, Extra Cheese is fairly thorough, drawing from nearly every stage of his Universal/Lost Highway career. So there's no Whiskeytown or Heartbreaker, which is a shame, but also no Rock N Roll or 29, which is a relief. Instead, the EP culls from Gold, Demolition, Cold Roses, Easy Tiger, Follow the Lights, and Cardinology-- arguably the highlights of his tenure at the labels. "Two" may be the best song here and one of his best songs period, with a strong hook justifying the laidback vibe and Adams' voice mixing nicely with Sheryl Crow's. It actually could have been a hit, or at least the soundtrack for a sappy TV drama (oh wait, it was). "Answering Bell", from his would-be breakout Gold, is less impressive. Adams affects his vocals mawkishly, the band pales next to the more inventive Cardinals, and hey, is that Hold Steady tourmate Adam Duritz singing backup? "Blossom", which is not about the 1990s sitcom, hails from deep within Adams' short-lived Grateful Dead phase with a steeply ascending hook that shoots for pretty but comes off as gangly.
As Extra Cheese proceeds, Adams strips away the instruments until only he, an acoustic guitar, and a harmonica remain. "Desire" sounds like it was scribbled on a Waffle House napkin at 2 a.m., then stuffed into his jeans pocket until he discovered it weeks later and hit "<RECORD>". It feels lived in and off-the-cuff-- a setting where Adams shines-and after so many full-band tracks, its modesty is refreshing and reassuring. "Evergreen" and "My Love for You Is Real" both reach for the same intimacy, but like much of Adams' recent material, they sound too slick and deliberate. Finally, there's "Hey There Mrs. Lonely", which is only sorta new: The song first appeared on the bootleg Live at Almost Blue in 1999, recorded around the time Whiskeytown disbanded. Even on this studio version, with its double-tracked vocals and intertwining guitars, "Hey There" remains spare and melodic, but the young Adams' lyrics overreach: "I'm the plastic three-inch armies you destroyed," he sings. "I'm the monster underneath your bed you ain't afraid of yet."
What makes "Hey There Mrs. Lovely" stand out isn't its newness, but the hints of conflict and lust mixed in among the childhood metaphors. There's no real angst and very little desperation in these songs; instead, a general neediness permeates Extra Cheese, trying to pass itself off as heart-on-sleeve earnestness. But Adams is much more interesting when he's writing and singing about romantic confusion than when he's pledging his desire and devotion, and he gets no points for acknowledging his schmaltziness with that tongue-in-cheek EP title. This drowsy set of songs may represent the mainstream crossover Adams aspires to be, but it gives little clue to the complex artist he actually is.
