Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘annual picks’ Category

I’m a huge fan of the projects and tributes put out by Hal Willner, but the problem is they are almost always out of print. This one, his first from 1981, focused on the film music that Nino Rota scored for Frederico Fellini. Of all the great themes on this record, this beautiful interpretation of “La Stada” affected me the most. It’s performed by jazz great Jaki Byard whose name, like Hal Willner’s, should be more widely recognized. I was lucky to find this used LP at Car City Classics in near perfect condition.

Read Full Post »

I remember buying To Each… at Full Moon Records in 1981, the year of its release. I also remember letting it slip from my collection and waiting several years before its reissue on CD. It wasn’t until 2005 at Wazoo Records in Ann Arbor that I’d find a copy. This band’s use of trumpet and percussion, not to mention that Martin Hannett production stamp, gave them such a unique sound. The bass is often the only instrument carrying any sort of melody while the vocals and trumpet are kept in the background to create an eerie feel.

Read Full Post »

I’ve enjoyed several of Charles Lloyd’s releases on the ECM label but this live recording really stood out. With an interesting lineup of tabla player, drummer, and himself on reeds, its overall sound broke away from his usual quartet setting. There are some nice percussive workouts featured but throughout the CD both percussionists play melodically and they instinctively connect with each other’s style without cluttering up the sound. This song’s beautiful sax intro really struck me, but also how he slips in those fast runs, making their placement sound so natural. I also loved how the swing feel is established when the tablas come in and how closely they resemble the sound of an upright bass.

Read Full Post »

This song marks another memorable night of live blues at Big Cities Lounge. Touring in support of his recent Little Walter tribute, Dennis Gruenling pushed and pulled such a variety of sounds from his harp that unless you were watching you’d swear at times he was playing a sax or guitar, not to mention a freight train and several other non-musical objects. It was incredible. This song comes from a rare single that was available at the show.

Read Full Post »

This song sounds like it was tossed off in a matter of 20 minutes, which includes any time required to get the band set up and ready to record. One look at their equipment list will tell you how that’s possible; garage sale drum set, two guitars, one amp. But that’s the beauty of Hound Dog Taylor. His songs are ramshackle and raw, like each one was captured in its energetic first take. Any more time spent to improve the sonic quality, tuning included, would rob his music of what makes it so much fun.

Read Full Post »

Back when television offered only what broadcast over UHF and VHF frequencies – usually about six channels total, but depending in which direction your antennae was pointed – I fondly remember staying up late to watch In The Heat Of The Night with Dad and Craig; Christopher wasn’t old enough to join us.

There’s a scene where a creepy café guy uses a knife to open the jukebox, and once the song starts playing he gives us a little dance. This scene was originally shot using a different song, the already popular “Li’l Red Riding Hood” by Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs, but a licensing problem prevented its use in the film. Quincy Jones co-wrote this substitute and it fit perfectly, just like how the rest of his score fits the entire film. It propels the action sequences, creates suspense, and helps remind us what the Deep South was like in the ‘60s.

Read Full Post »

I certainly didn’t have an appreciation for Graham Parker when I saw him warm up for Journey in 1979. Those two artists seemed as likely a match as when Prince warmed up for The Rolling Stones. However, when Squeezing Out Sparks was finally reissued in 1996 it became the cornerstone of my growing interest in Graham Parker’s music. The release of Your Country slipped by me but I eventually found it one day by accident. After all these years his writing is strong as ever; snarling and biting in one song, sensitive and touching in the next. The influence of country music makes it a perfect home for this duet with Lucinda Williams.

Read Full Post »

I doubt you’ll read anything about Davie Allan that doesn’t mention the sound of a fuzzed-out guitar, biker movies, or the ’60s.  With these three welded together his trademark was born.  This 2-CD anthology on the Sundazed label was a perfect starting point as it collects 40 instrumentals spanning the years 1964-1968.  There’s plenty of variety to keep the listening experience from going stale but as strong as this collection is, Devil’s Rumble is also a perfect stopping point, as I doubt I’d ever need more.

Allan carved his own sound that landed right where surf and psychedelic intersect, featuring equal parts fuzz effects, whammy bar, Farfisa organ, and revved up beats, but his playing deserves to be grouped with similar guitar kings like Dick Dale and Link Wray. It would be hard to imagine any other music accompanying the films for which he wrote theme songs and soundtracks, or a better music to represent this era’s biker subculture.

Read Full Post »

When this promo arrived at the store I was pretty certain no other employees would be interested, so I nabbed it.  Aside from the main attraction of Aretha’s voice, which sounds impeccable on these two CDs of demos and outtakes, the loose and funky groove of “Mr. Big” grabbed me. Roger Hawkins, only 23 at the time, provided the drum track and he would go on to become a session drummer with one of the most impressive resumes, both with and without the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section.

Read Full Post »

Stephen Goethe and I were deciding upon which CDs to load for the store’s overhead play. “It’s surprising how many good Putumayo collections there are,” I commented. “I know,” he agreed, “I liked the one called Acoustic France.” “Yeah, and the Italian Café was-” I stopped myself and we looked at each other. After a slight pause we realized how silly we sounded. “Oh, man, listen to us. Are we really talking about which Putumayo collections we like?”

Dark Was The Night isn’t another bland compilation of world music. It’s a collection of newer artists I paid little attention to as they reached their peak in the mid- to late-2000s. But it’s also a snapshot of the great music Stephen chose to play in the store. With the exception of Kronos Quartet, Gillian Welch, David Byrne, and Yo La Tengo, Dark Was The Night allowed me to get caught up with several bands I had almost completely missed. Spoon was just one example. I hadn’t heard any of their music until I heard “Well-Alright” playing in the store. Knowing little or nothing about most of these artists allowed me the chance to hear them on equal ground and I wasn’t distracted by having already established favorites among them.

It was a rare occurrence when I heard new music playing in the store that I really liked, but one that happened regularly whenever Stephen picked the titles. Much like CDs paying tribute to a specific artist, compilations are something I generally avoid but this one became an immediate favorite. It reminded me that spending too much time on music from the past can have a downside and it was nice having my scale of interests tip in the other direction.

Read Full Post »