So closely does the cover vibe provided by Ted Croner’s iconic cover photo “Taxi, New York at Night” mirror the music on the album, you have wonder if the cover choice was inspired by the music, or vice-versa.
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.
(This piece, originally written in 1988, runs with a few updates)
Maddy Matlock and the Paducah Patrol, Warren Barker, The Vestry Choir, Raoul Meynard and Orchestra, Clint Walker and the Sunflower Serenaders, Gus Farney at the Giant Wurlitzer- these are just a few of the exciting musical acts that helped Warner Brothers Records lose a whopping $3 million a year between 1958 and 1962- its first four years in existence.
Not a great start. In fact the parent company, Warner Brothers films almost shut the doors, but didn’t, according to Fredrick Dannen in his excellent and often hilarious book “Hit Men,” out of fear that it wouldn’t collect money owed by slow paying independent record distributors.
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
There was a moment early in the afternoon of the last Sunday of New Orleans’ first post-Katrina Jazz Fest when it appeared to me that everything about the event, my perception of it, and even my hopes for the damaged city I’ve come to call home for the past ten years, changed dramatically. I was standing just outside the Economy Hall tent listening to the Trémé Brass Band, one the city’s oldest and funkiest old-time-jazz aggregations, when it started to rain.
Up to that point, the festival had managed to avoid bad weather. First, it outlasted an early heat wave that had collapsed a week and a half earlier, just as music fans began streaming into the city, then it successfully dodged heavy periods of rain that fell overnight on the first weekend. Another wave of rain showers had passed immediately north of the city on the second weekend. Now, however, it seemed the festival’s luck had pretty much run out.
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.
“Roots” music specialist Marley’s Ghost gets a turbo boost from producer Van Dyke Parks, who turns what could have been just another musical “Antiques Roadshow” into a truly special recorded event.
The merger of Sony Music and BMG combined two of the world’s great film music catalogs, offering the potential for a truly exceptional film score compilation. This isn’t it. Instead this piece of shit excuse for an “essential” film score package is indicative of everything that’s wrong with the music business today. It lists for $25.00.
This superbly recorded, meticulously produced collaboration reminds me of an expanded version of Roy Rogers’ and Dale Evans’ “Happy Trails.” It’s packed with nostalgia and exudes a wistful, “see you around” vibe that at times gets downright suffocating.
Johnny Cash’s final album is a tender and moving tribute to the resilience of the human spirit. The power and fascination of folk music is that the story is in the telling not in the technique.