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Overstuffed and vaguely monotonous, the album could be easily whittled down to a single sequence of impressive songs; Instead, it's a meandering, occasionally moving series of mid-tempo laments, some more memorable than others.
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It's safe to say that Cold Roses is the record many fans have been waiting to hear -- a full-fledged, unapologetic return to the country-rock that made his reputation when he led Whiskeytown.
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Cold Roses’ first set is by-the-numbers, brokenhearted MOR fare, sometimes maudlin (“When Will You Come Back Home?”), infrequently dramatic (the piano-driven “How Do You Keep Love Alive”) and mostly forgettable. The second disc redeems Cold Roses from an even-less-enthusiastic recommendation.
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The boy wonder is back in the saddle.
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This 18-track monster drives home one point more than any other: Ryan Adams needs a fucking editor.
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A frustratingly self indulgent and inconsistent double album that pitches itself somewhere between the classic country rock of 2001's 'Gold' and the lovelorn despair of 2004's 'Love Is Hell'.
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Despite the fact that a few of these nineteen tracks could easily have been cut, or that its mid-tempo pacing may drive it dangerously close to sounding monotonous, the evidence still points to that of a songwriter clawing back to his best.
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Somehow, it all works remarkably well together. There are a number of songs that feel like guilty pleasures, and the Gram Parsons/Bob Dylan/Neil Young influences are worn on Adam’s sleeve, but lets face it: we’d all rather hear Ryan doing this than trying to bite ‘70s FM rock or Brit-pop shoegazer nonsense.
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For every two full blooms ("Cherry Lane," "Rosebud") there's a stem ("Mockingbird"), and a couple decent toss-offs ("Beautiful Sorta," "Dance All Night"), but such is Adams' double-album hubris.
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Even if it is twice as long as it needs to be (thus, a couple of dead spots), we're not arguing. We're just enjoying the music.
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For a good long stretch, Cold Roses feels fantastic--as pretty and affecting as a slow sunset.
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Cold Roses comes as a bit of relief, bereft of the posturing that so often attends Adams’ work.... That said, there’s also a sense of retreat that permeates the record, a willingness to offer the comforts of familiar tones instead of ambitiously taking chances.
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Entertainment WeeklyMostly it's a big messy bunch of starry-eyed, shambling good ideas in search of memorable hooks. [20 May 2005, p.76]
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Although Cold Roses can get messy in the way of a quickly made album, it marks a notable improvement on Adams's most recent LP.
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It's as if Adams is doing an imitation himself, of what he thinks "Ryan Adams" should be, or what fans at large expect: the roots rocker, the alt-country troubadour, all that clichéd Gram Parsons successor rubbish.
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The songs seem tossed off and carefully constructed at the exact same moment.
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Q MagazineAnother marathon slog through the alt-country undergrowth. [Jun 2005, p.118]
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It's a relaxed and ambitious collection that confirms Ryan Adams' reputation as a top-notch singer and songwriter who easily jumps styles and evokes comfortable sadness with every turn.
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The production is too breezy in places and at 19 songs, it is at least half a dozen too long. Not the classic Adams fans demand, but he’s moving his ducks into a row.
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UncutA return to form, if not a career-redefining masterpiece. [Jul 2005, p.107]
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Without the first disc, the double disc Cold Roses wouldn't be half bad.
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SpinThere's an air of formal exercise here.... But if you can ride with the cliches, you won't fault the execution. [Jul 2005, p.102]
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MojoAn enjoyable, if surprisingly safe, collection of roots rock. [Jul 2005, p.102]
Awards & Rankings
User score distribution:
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Positive: 96 out of 104
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Mixed: 3 out of 104
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Negative: 5 out of 104
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Oct 14, 2017
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Jun 18, 2012
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Aug 6, 2011