There’s so much to recommend here, starting of course with Gerry Mulligan. There’s also a great deal to live up to, given the legendary “Gerry Mulligan Meets….” series on Verve from the 1950’s, one of which (Gerry Mulligan Meets Ben Webster) is reviewed elsewhere this month.
Going from Soft Lights & Sweet Music is like going from the merely excellent to the spectacularly suave and sublime, both musically and especially sonically. Though not as “clean,” and not nearly as detailed and revealing as the newer recording, there’s a liquidity, transparency and timbral rightness about the older one that just puts your mind and emotional state in a different world. Nonetheless, the piano has that boxy ‘50s sound and the bass is a bit muffled. There’s something to be said for the newer recording in terms of reality but for magic, it’s the older one. Sort of like old movies versus new ones.
There’s nothing not to like about this hard-driving, straight ahead jazz trio set first issued by Concord in 1984, led by the flamboyant, yet tasteful and ultra-clean pianist Alexander backed by the powerful Ray Brown and drummer Frank Gant.
Produced by Bay area bluesman Roy Rogers (Hooker had moved there and opened a nightclub in 1997), this Grammy Award winning set of collaborations between the then 72 year old John Lee Hooker and Carlos Santana, Bonnie Raitt, Robert Cray, “Canned Heat,” Los Lobos, George Thorogood and Charlie Musselwhite, plus two stirring Hooker solos and one backed by drums and bass, brought the blues great to a new audience.
If you buy this and just hear some moldy old monophonic Dixieland you deserve to spend the rest of your life listening to Aqualung and Patricia Barber, not that there’s anything wrong with either that album or that artist. I don’t mean to insult anyone but the audiophile “pop charts” are depressingly mundane and predictable.
Foné records’ Giulio Cesare Ricci is easily one of the most charming, entertaining and eccentric people I have ever encountered in an industry packed with such people. I spent some quality time with him and his lovely wife Paola Maria, who works in the fashion industry in Milan, during last fall’s Top Audio show there.
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.
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.
“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.
Subtlety was not in Neil Young’s game plan when he sat down to write the tunes here, probably in a burst of creative energy born of frustration with the war in Iraq and other Bush administration activities over the past few years. Young’s moved quite a ways since his romance with the Reagan administration.
Decide for yourself whether The Lovin’ Spoonful took their name from Mississippi John Hurt’s “Coffee Blues” (not to mention the tune for “Darlin’ Companion”) but fans of Taj Mahal will have no doubts about this gentle soul’s influence on Taj when you hear this earlier take on “Corrina, Corrina” and compare it to Taj’s on The Natch’l Blues (CS9698).