Low’s latest begins on a somber, fatalistic note with the dirge-like “Pretty People,” in which we’re reminded that along with the soldiers fighting today, and all the little babies, and all the lions and “..all the pretty people…,” we’re all gonna die.
Smartly arranged and orchestrated, nicely recorded and beautifully packaged, Bright Eyes’s latest double LP set is a wistful set that begins oddly but effectively with a denouement of a song about the encroaching pincer forces of corporate, military and religious aggressors (“If you think that God is keeping score, hooray!”)
Slinky “world music” with a distinctly American desert underpinning, yet incorporating Arabic tonal modes, Another Green World Eno-esque rhythms and an eclectic, dizzying array of instruments, acoustic and electronic, Califone’s latest album will literally leave you gasping for air as you vainly attempt to absorb even a pathetically small percentage of what’s thrown at you musically and sonically on what is a stupendous production and an even more remarkable recording.
I don’t know about you, but back in the winter of 1969, big band music was not exactly my “go to” musical genre. At 22 I was listening to Abbey Road which had just come out, and Tommy and Simon and Garfunkel and The Kinks, and Frank Zappa, not Duke Ellington, though I was into Monk, Coltrane, Miles and Cannonball. I drew the line at big band music.
A collection of mostly 17th and 18th century music, much of which was written to alleviate a form of madness caused by a Tarantula bite might not sound like an enticing concept, but it is!
The almost apologetic liner notes let you know that the music on this album, and indeed Mr. Hawkins himself, was essentially out of favor, except as an exercise in nostalgia and that Prestige’s “Moodsville” series, if not meant as background “mood music,” could serve that purpose, though it was perfectly suited for actual listening should the buyer so desire. Montovani is even mentioned in the notes!
Eager anticipation turned into bitter disappointment early as Steely Dan played its final Beacon Theater (NY) concert last night (June 13th 2007). Opening tunes can’t be counted upon for greatness, as the band warms up and the mixer dials in the sound, but unfortunately, last night’s thin, sizzly, musically disjointed opener set the stage for an evening of thudding, overblown drumming, and an excruciatingly thin, sizzly, sibilant vocal mix on Donald Fagen’s clearly fatigued voice.
Obviously, drummer Keith Carlock is a talented and energetic drummer, but his playing last night had very little to do with Steely Dan’s slinky, insinuating sound, and much more to do with a Heavy Metal concert.
The shadow story of the tragic life of the sad-eyed, impossibly pretty Gram Parsons is fairly well known, at least among fans of The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers and Parsons’ ill-fated solo career.
Parsons (original name: Ingram Cecil Connor III) was an enigma: a Southern born trust fund baby, Harvard drop-out and emotionally troubled musician who, though plagued by alcohol and drug abuse, (or perhaps in part because of it), produced some of the most haunting and enduring music of his era, while forging a new musical paradigm combining folk, country, rock, soul and “glam.” Though he influenced generations of musicians who followed, he never sold that many records.
Not having to include picture with sound gave the compilers of this 4 LP box set latitude Martin Scorsese did not have when he made his Dylan bio No Direction Home: The Soundtrack.