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.
Rosanne Cash’s moving, sometimes mysterious tribute to her late parents and step-mother June Carter Cash was, for me, last year’s most profound and affecting album. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t sat down to write about it until this year.
Forget the Van Gogh-like cover. There’s nothing crazy going on here, or perhaps these four guys just wanted to subliminally suggest that you lend an ear. I’m glad I did.
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.
For my money, the greatest YES album, musically and sonically was 1971’s The Yes Album (Atlantic SD 8283), recorded Autumn of 1970, and if you can find an original, thick “1841 Broadway” pressing, get one. An audiophile-quality reissue generated from the master tape would be nice, but unfortunately, Rhino took it upon itself to reissue it recently in their first, undistinguished entry into vinyl, and it wasn’t very good.
The British minimalist art/punk band Wire’s first three spare, angular albums, originally issued in 1977, 8 and 9 weren’t big sellers then and unfortunately the chances are they won’t be this time either, though I sure hope they do well enough to encourage 4 Men With Beards and other labels to reissue adventurous and worthwhile, if not the most popular music.
Based on this uneven, less than memorable effort by Jean-Benoit Dunckel (who calls himself Darkel here), the whole is greater than the sum of the parts of the French minimalist electronica duo known as Air. With his partner Nicolas Godin, Mr. Dunckel produces some of the most arresting, three -dimensional, self contained electronic and acoustic soundscapes you’re likely to experience.
Recorded and released during one of the most tumultuous and disturbing periods in contemporary American history, Emergency Ward! is a grand, exasperated plea for peace and understanding by one of the great soul/jazz voices of the 20th century.
A straight-ahead, often fast-paced blowing session led by Plas Johnson, a versatile alto and tenor saxophonist who’s been heard by tens of millions, but known by very few. The theme from the “Pink Panther” includes Johnson’s most famous sax lines, but he’s played sessions for Frank, Peggy, Nat, Ella, Sarah, Ray, you first-name them.