Cold Fact by Rodriguez
LABEL: Light in the Attic

“Yet even when he’s bitterly attacking society or cheating girlfriends, he retains his charm. In this sense, he’s more like psych heroes Syd Barrett or Arthur Lee...”

Sometimes one generation’s music trash is another’s treasure. This seems to be the case with Detroit’s almost forgotten street folk musician/factory worker Sixto Rodriguez. In 1970, Rodriguez released Cold Fact for Hollywood based Sussex Records. The album sold poorly and was largely ignored. After a second failed attempt called Coming from Reality in 1971, he was canned by Sussex and the label folded a few years later. Since then, he’s gained cult status in both South Africa and Australia, lived a pretty much normal life raising a family in Detroit and even started touring again recently. Last year, the wonderful Light in the Attic Records reissued Cold Fact and the Mexican-American is finally getting the attention he deserves.

The heart of every track on Cold Fact is a folk song, though the album doesn’t feel like other folk albums of the late 60s/early 70s. This is largely due to two things: the lyrics and the spookiness of its production. These may be the reasons the album was unsuccessful then, but now stands apart from the tired rock canon we’ve been force fed our whole lives.

Rodriguez’s stream of consciousness singing style is not unlike Dylan. Even the subject matter is not that different. They both sing about realistic problems that face the working class, but if you’ve ever questioned Mr. Zimmerman’s authenticity, Rodriguez is worth a listen. Not only did he work an assembly line in Detroit, you can believe him when he sings, “The inner city birthed me. The local pusher nursed me.” Yet even when he’s bitterly attacking society or cheating girlfriends, he retains his charm. In this sense, he’s more like psych heroes Syd Barrett or Arthur Lee, though the content is much more rooted in reality than either of them.

“The music is interesting. It doesn’t fall into any established category. Even the hybrid psych-folk title doesn’t righteously qualify Cold Fact.”

Cold Fact rides the line between warm and cold, happiness and hatred. The opening track, “Sugar Man,” is upbeat on the surface, but Mike Theodore’s creepy synth and string arrangements cut through the song and pull it towards a weird, echoed ending. Not to mention the song is also about a drug dealer. Rodriguez plays with folk conventions throughout the album. Steel drums, odd string arrangement and fuzzed electric guitar solos sit in the background of each song. There’s too much going on for it to be classified folk, but it’s too down-to-earth to be psychedelic.

Many reviewers of this album might lead you to believe Cold Fact’s only merit is Rodriguez’s story or the fact it’s been lost for so long and is now found, but this is far from the truth. The music is interesting. It doesn’t fall into any established category. Even the hybrid psych-folk title doesn’t righteously qualify Cold Fact. It’s hard to believe the stream of consciousness “This is not a Song, It's an Outburst: or The Establishment Blues,” the scathing yet upbeat love song “I Wonder” and the downright scary “Gommorah (A Nursery Rhyme)” could exist on the same album. You may be a little puzzled at first, but before long you’ll be singing “Papa don’t allow no new ideas here.” Maybe that was the 70s problem, too.

REVIEWED BY ADAM WISNIESKI
ADAM'S FAVORITE TRACKS: "Inner City Blues" • "This is not a Song, It's an..." • "Jane S Piddy"
Read more by Adam Wisnieski on his blog, Short Wave Rockin