Friday, Dec. 21, 2001
Gold by Ryan Adams
There's an aroma of the young, freewheeling Bob Dylan in the organ and acoustic-guitar textures beloved by this urban folk rocker. On his lyric sheet, word games take a backseat to riffs on love, youth and empty pockets. Boomers nostalgic for their hitchhiking days, as well as their children thumbing a ride to the city for the first time, will find something to get weepy over.