[review 2005: the best of the year]

La De Da was a record made essentially on a whim. Plaskett was invited by Bob Hoag, a sound engineer in Arizona and a big fan of his work as the Joel Plaskett Emergency, to come by the Phoenix studio any time to cut a couple of tracks. After touring with his band, the Emergency, to support 2003’s Truthfully Truthfully, Plaskett found himself with a couple of songs that called for a quieter, more contemplative approach. So he emailed his friend the sound engineer and took him up on the offer. When Plaskett asked about studio rates, Hoag’s response was a pleasant surprise: it’s on the house, you can stay with me and my wife, and we’ve got a pool. Who could possibly turn that down?

It kills me that I haven’t had the chance to take La De Da on a roadtrip, because this album’s made for a long drive through back roads and empty highways. Not surprising, since Plaskett essentially wrote most of the album on the drive from Halifax to Phoenix. But he’s always written songs about travelling; “Light Of The Moon,” from Down By The Khyber, is just one of his many songs about life on the road, inspired by the many cross-country tours he’s been on with the Emergency and as the frontman for the late, lamented Thrush Hermit. “Love This Town” is his latest paean, with some choice words for the inhabitants of Kelowna, apparently unable to recognize a great performer when they see one. “Wishing Well,” another favourite, sounds like it’d be right at home coming out of the AM radio in a beat-up pickup truck. And then there’s “Natural Disaster,” which really does act as a sort of travelogue.

La De Da is at its best when it focuses on particular characters. “Lying on a Beach,” about the doldrums of office life, is full of throwaway lyrical gems like “all you star-spangled scanners / trying to photocopy moonlight” and “we never get our hands dirty / but paradise is never this clean.” “Nina and Albert,” based on an overheard conversation between a woman and her jealous boyfriend, was originally conceived as a duet with Neko Case. But even without her talents, Plaskett breathes life into the lovers’ quarrel, imbuing Nina and Albert with vulnerability and longing. It’s a good thing Plaskett uses those storytelling abilities for good.

After the occasionally contrived theatrics of Truthfully Truthfully, it’s reassuring to know Plaskett hasn’t given himself over to arena rock banality. La De Da is a low-key album, and probably the quietest of his career, but it’s a thoroughly rewarding listen. They say that sometimes the best things in life are free. I’m sure Bob Hoag and Joel Plaskett would agree.