Emma Swift
Blonde on the Tracks
(Tiny Ghost Records)
★★★

BLONDE on the Tracks is made up of eight Bob Dylan covers by Australian singer-songwriter Emma Swift, now based in Nashville.

It’s a neat idea and it's given extra resonance with Dylan having recently released Rough and Rowdy Ways, his 39th studio album.

As the title suggests, most of the songs come from just two of Dylan albums, with Swift’s fresh and country-tinged renditions highlighting the quality of his songwriting.

Queen Jane Approximately is one of the lesser known tracks from Highway 61 but here makes a swaggering opener.

And while Simple Twist of Fate and the epic Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands are fairly faithful to the beautiful originals, One Of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later) is brilliantly transformed into a country torch song, with Swift sounding a lot like Neko Case.
 

Bill Callahan
Gold Record
(Drag City)
★★★★

WITH last year’s Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest coming five years after his last album, it’s a welcome surprise that US singer-songwriter Bill Callahan has returned so quickly with Gold Record.

While Shepherd… was a mammoth and personal 20-song set, the new record is a relatively modest 10 tracks, with Callahan leaning more heavily on inhabiting various characters.

“Hello, I’m Johnny Cash” are the first words on opener Pigeons, which ends with him signing off as, er, Leonard Cohen.

Callahan, now well into his fifties, is still the King of Droll, with his witty, virtually spoken-word lyrics and downbeat alt-country marking him out from his contemporaries.

There is a track about protest songs — a piss-take? — and a bluesy tribute to US musician Ry Cooder, “a real straight shooter,” apparently.

An acquired taste, there is only one Bill Callahan.

Fontaines D.C.
A Hero’s Death
(Partisan Records)
★★★

HAVING toured relentlessly after releasing their critically acclaimed debut last year, Irish post-punk band Fontaine D.C. return with their sophomore record.

A Hero’s Death doesn’t really have “hits” like its predecessor, and isn’t focused on Dublin. Instead the five-piece have created a more sombre, inward-looking set.

It’s often an abrasive listen with some self-indulgent hook-free walls of noise and shouting. Some may wonder where the actual tunes are.

Frontman Grian Chatten has an incredible gravitas-filled voice, often to be found repeating particular phrases — “I don’t belong to anyone,” “Life ain’t always empty” — over the group’s brand of droning guitar rock.

The slower songs, like closer No, are much more emotionally accessible, the relative quiet giving Chatten’s striking lyrics a bit of welcome breathing space.

The “difficult second album” is a cliche, but cliches are sometimes based in truth.