LATEST ADDITIONS

EC has always been a fine interpreter of American soul music as his much maligned but dependable and surprisingly durable and jumpy set Get Happy proves. Though only two songs were not written by Costello ("I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down" and "I Stand Accused") much of the album feelsAmerican-sourced, whether country ("Motel Matches") or ghetto. By the way, try to find a UK F-Beat original. Even though it packs 10 short songs per side, it still sounds more dynamic and punchy than Rhino's last CD version and it wallops the flaccid American Columbia LP original. The "ringwear" on the jacket is part of the artwork, though some twit at Columbia removed it fearing you'd be too stupid to get the joke.

This live set pressed as two picture discs is little more than a souvenir "audio tour book" from a band to its loyal fans. Picture discs don't usually sound good and this one is no exception, though the records are quieter than some normal black ones I've bought lately.

The original Warner Brothers label was gold colored with “Vitaphonic Long Play” on the bottom, separated by “Stereo” in red letters, boxed in black. In small red letter above that it reads “Warning:reproduce only with stereophonic cartridge and stylus. Pressure not to exceed 6 grams” (mono releases were originally gold as well, but were later changed to grey). This label continued into the mid-sixties. Original pressings of records like 1962’s Peter Paul and Mary (WS 1449) feature that label, as does Peter Paul and Mary’s Moving album (WS 1473) from 1963.
Promo copies were black and white

Old-Time Standards the Old-School Way
With the eclipse of the Olympia Brass Band, it is generally acknowledged that the Trémé band, in all its multiple configurations, has now become the symbolic parade marshal for the Crescent City’s historic “street” jazz tradition. The mainstay of Trémé’s songbook are well-known New Orleans jazz tunes and old-time spirituals. With the rain pummeling the big tent into which maybe 500 or more of us had managed to jam ourselves, the band carried on as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

In the shoulder-to-shoulder crush I found myself standing beside a middle-aged woman with a tiny baby sleeping on shoulder. Behind her, a rugged-faced man stood guard at the helm of an empty baby carriage.