Johnny Cash's third album and his major label debut recorded in 1958 and issued in early 1959 doesn't mess much with the Sun era shuffle-and-twang musical formula. Luther Perkins does the twanging as he did as a member of The Tennessee Three, Cash's backing group but the overall sound is somewhat watered down.
If I have to fight with you over the logic of releasing a double LP of music transferred from 78s, just think of your battles with digital lovers over the superiority of vinyl! I'm not suggesting that the original 78s from which this absolutely fascinating and often startling compilation was sourced sound like modern, full frequency response recordings. However, in the vital midrange, the sense of "living presence" is remarkable.
With a nod to the Hank Williams tune of the same name (which also was the name of a book Earle authored), this Steve Earle album released last spring is a collection of songs dealing mostly with mortality, keying off of his father’s passing.
Speakers Corner has unearthed an unlikely gem here: a 1957 blues set by a stellar assemblage of jazz musicians that's been obscured by time—at least I've never seen or heard of it before.
At first you might think "Can these tracks really have come from the same session that produced A Night in Tunisia?" That’s the claim, so you'd be expecting the same level of raw intensity, the same Van Gelder generated echoey backdrop and the same sense that this was a “cutting session” for the ages.
A more pleasant pairing of musical icons you’re not likely to hear and the backing by The Oscar Peterson Trio (Ray Brown on bass, Herb Ellis on guitar plus Buddy Rich on drums) completes the setting. Add a superb monophonic recording and a literally astonishing 45rpm re-mastering that just about brings them all back to life in your listening room and you have something truly special that’s clearly stood the test of (a long!) time.
Another decade, another reissue of DSOTM, this one using the very fragile original two track master tape, again supervised by James Guthrie. Guthrie had determined that the tape was in fragile shape back in 2003, which is why he opted for a remix in the analog domain. That edition was very good and worth having, especially if you didn't have a very clean early UK pressing, but in retrospect it departs from the original much as the Mo-Fi does: the EQ is a bit much at the frequency extremes, which bleaches out the mids. As for the mix's micro-elements and how close Guthrie came to reproducing the original mix, I have to surrender that to the DTOTM fanatics, of which I'm not one.
You'll never confuse Shostakovich's Piano Concerto No. 2 composed in 1957 with piano concertos composed during the romantic era, except when you get to the squooshy center where the composer goes all Rachmaninoff on you. The cinematic first movement sounds both ominous and light-hearted like a Hitchcock chase scene and it's easy to hear how Bernard Herrmann may have been influenced by this rousing first movement. It will get your heart pounding.
No one suggests this is among the "essential Blue Notes," especially since it really wasn't issued as an album when the session was first recorded. In fact, it sat on the shelf for 24 years, much to astonishment of annotator and distinguished jazz producer Michael Cuscuna. It wasn't issued until 1986.
Instead of re-issuing this yet again, some folks argue that Analogue Productions should reissue newer albums. They are tired of hearing again what they already have. What they forget is that the last reissue of this classic was many years ago. Sorry, but time flies, especially as you get older. And guess what else? That issue by Classic Records is long out of print as is the one Mobile Fidelity first issued around twenty years ago when the label decided to re-enter the vinyl market and press its own records in Sebastopol.
Back in 1963, Frank Sinatra, the brawling "rat packer," lounge-lizard wise-cracker took a short retirement to record this album of classic Broadway show tunes, with the emphasis on Rodgers and Hammerstein, lushly orchestrated by Nelson Riddle.