Blue Rodeo – Palace Of Gold

Consistency is a strange quality — so esteemed in some careers (say, designated hitters or stock portfolio managers) and so undervalued in music. Artists who achieve creative summits or tumble into the bad record abyss are inclined to snatch our attention, for better or worse. Meanwhile, acts that reliably, quietly deliver quality work without the attendant fuss of career peaks or valleys tend to be neglected.

In an oeuvre that already stretches across eleven albums, Toronto’s Blue Rodeo has at times flirted with that consistency curse. But the sextet has arrived at an important revelation on Palace Of Gold: The best way to avoid sailing into the doldrums is to steer into uncharted water. In this case, Blue Rodeo’s trademark roots rock-sound has been enlivened by a newfound love of strings and horns and an embrace of late ’60s/early ’70s orchestral radio pop.

With its bouncing horn charts and sighing, soaring strings, “Cause For Sympathy” harkens back not to previous Blue Rodeo antecedents such as The Band or the Burrito Brothers, but to fleeting kings of AM pop such as the Foundations, Looking Glass, and Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds (dig out your K-Tel albums and check for yourself).

“Homeward Bound Angel” begins in reasonably familiar twangy territory but morphs into a righteously funky workout, with guitarist Greg Keelor testifying against a soul-revue-style female backing chorus, punchy horns and hip-shaking tempo from the group’s stellar rhythm section of bassist Bazil Donovan and drummer Glenn Milchem. “Comet”, with Keelor’s deadpan vocal tied to a menacing orchestral setting, brings to mind the Doors sitting in with Isaac Hayes.

That’s not to say Blue Rodeo is simply borrowing other people’s ideas; the key is in the way these influences have been incorporated into the group’s established sound. Nowhere is that more evident than on guitarist Jim Cuddy’s “Bulletproof”. It would have been enough if the song were merely an addition to Cuddy’s pantheon of show-stopping, big-ticket ballads. But the strings grandly swell, and multi-instrumentalist Bob Egan renders acoustic guitar filigrees around Cuddy’s lofty chorus. In a kinder world, this would be the last-dance make-out number at high school dances for generations to come.