A Consumer Guide to the Trailing Edge: November, 2005

Recycled Goods (#25)

by Tom Hull

This month's mixed bag breaks out into several clusters. With six titles, the largest is a sampling of the twenty or so titles from Sublime Frequencies, a Seattle-based label that scounges the far corners of the world for interesting musical knick knacks. Only a tiny percentage of the world's music ever reaches here, and that goes double for the parts they've assayed -- including many marks on the neocons' hit list. JSP has just two titles, but they're four discs each. They've long been one of England's premier restoration companies, highly esteemed not just for reissuing treasures in the public domain, but for their careful attention to sound. Despite the collapse of the dollar, their boxes are still bargains. A less obvious cluster are recently rescued, but still hard-to-find, gems (Kirk, Surman) spotted by Morton and Cook in The Penguin Guide to Jazz -- as always, an indispensible resource. Two more titles come from Buda Musique's incomparable Éthiopiques series -- I only wish someone would tackle one of the major centers of African music, like Nigeria or South Africa or Congo or Senegal or Kenya even, as comprehensively. Of course, there are more clusters, and more idiosyncrasies, but that's business as usual.

One more thing to note is that this is my 25th Recycled Goods column, and the reviewed album count has finally topped 1000 records.


Breaking Out of New Orleans (1922-29 [2005], JSP, 4CD). JSP's Louis Armstrong (Hot Fives & Sevens) and Jelly Roll Morton boxes have long set the standard for skilled restoration of vintage sound, plus they're much cheaper than competing boxes on Columbia/Legacy and RCA Bluebird. Armstrong and Morton are the most famed jazz musicians to emerge from the Crescent City crucible, but there were many others, so you can view this box as some sort of mop-up operation. Freddie Keppard, for instance, was the most famous trumpet star of the pre-Armstrong era, but barely made it on record. Kid Ory hung on into the post-WWII era when he was recognized as a leader in the trad jazz revival. Fate Marable, Papa Celestin, Sam Morgan, Louis Dumaine, Armand Piron, and others led local bands of note. They're all here, along with much more critical history. A-

Choubi Choubi! Folk & Pop Sounds From Iraq (1970s-2002 [2005], Sublime Frequencies). Scrounged from old cassettes and LPs found in Syria, Europe, and Detroit, this provides a short course in the music of secular, socialist, Baathist Iraq, starting with three cuts from Ja'afar Hassan sometime in the '70s through the Saddam era. As with most records on this label, this was assembled on the cheap, with hit and miss scholarship -- good to know that Basta, Bezikh, Choubi, and Hecha are distinct styles, since otherwise our ears aren't tuned that fine. What we do notice is that the sound is usually cranked up to the point of distortion, which resonates with the squelchy strings, hard beats, and harsh voices. Half of the artists are "unknown" -- the anonymity adds to the primal allure. One might hope that the whiff of freedom would unleash a renaissance in Iraqi music, but more likely that's been scotched by the tin-eared Texas oilmen and their shortsighted deals with the Islamic clergy. Compiler Mark Gergis worries about such things -- his booklet including a picture of an oud smashed in the post-invasion looting. Looking forward from the wreckage, you have to wonder what sort of madness it takes to make a golden age out of Saddam's reign of horror. A-

Either/Orchestra: Éthiopiques 20: Live in Addis (2004 [2005], Buda Musique, 2CD). Francis Falceto's Éthiopiques series provided a comprehensive survey of Ethiopia's short-lived pop music flowering in the early '70s, a period soon choked off by war and revolution. Now Falceto has come full circle with new recordings, both of Ethiopians and of western musicians who discovered Ethiopia through his unique series. A few years back, Russ Gershon rearranged several pieces from Éthiopiques 13 for his big band. That led to Gershon's Either/Orchestra playing an extended program of Ethiopian music at a festival in Addis Ababa. Starting with five west-meets-east pieces in which the orchestra's discipline doesn't tame the source material so much as muscles it up, it nevertheless keeps its African roots, especially thanks to guest percussionist Mulatu Astatqé. After that, more Ethiopians join in -- several singers and explosive saxophonist Gétatchèw Mèkurya -- treating the home crowd and tying up loose ends. A-

Rahsaan Roland Kirk & Al Hibbler: A Meeting of the Times (1966-72 [2004], Warner Jazz). Hibbler, best known for his tenure with Duke Ellington in the '40s, sings five songs -- the first side of the original LP. Kirk schmoozes adoringly behind him, playing flute as well as his panoply of reeds with exceptional restraint and good taste, then takes over for the instrumentals on the second half. Sensing the LP was a little short, the producer dug up a leftover "Dream" from 1966 with a Leon Thomas vocal. Ellington songs tie both halves together, and one of Kirk's originals ("Carney and Begard Place") has its head there. A

Taj Mahal: The Essential Taj Mahal (1967-99 [2005], Columbia/Legacy, 2CD). Born Henry St. Clair Fredericks. Father a Jamaican jazz pianist, mother a gospel singer from South Carolina. Grew up in Massachusetts. Moved to Los Angeles, where he teamed up with fellow musicologist Ry Cooder in a band called the Rising Sons. His early albums were neoclassical blues experiments, which over time he expanded with pan-Africana from the Caribbean, eventually going global from Mali to Hawaii. His world music is an odd mix, but his blues were so distinctive that by now he heads his own school. His key 1967-75 work was recorded for Columbia, and has been oft-compiled, most successfully in 2000 as The Best of Taj Mahal -- with 12 cuts duplicated on the first disc here, and "Johnny Too Bad" on the second. The second disc then sashays through his other labels, an idiosyncratic taste of damn near everything he's done. Only the first disc can be deemed essential, and for that the earlier comp has a slight edge. But he's interesting enough that the second is intriguing. A-

Pat Metheny/Ornette Coleman: Song X: Twentieth Anniversary (1985 [2005], Nonesuch). Anyone even roughly familiar with Coleman's evolution from Science Fiction in 1971 up through Virgin Beauty in 1988 will instantly recognize the real author here. Metheny got top billing because he made the deal that got the album released. Likewise, the reissue is part of Metheny's deal with his latest label. This makes for some interesting contrasts that have little to do with music. Metheny has enjoyed rare commercial favor thoughout his career, receiving major label support everywhere he's gone. Coleman, on the other hand, never worked consistently with a label after his early Atlantics and Blue Notes, and often has opted not to record rather than to feed the exploiters. One result of this is that only two Coleman albums from the '70s and '80s are still in print -- making him far and away the most obscure genius in jazz. So maybe you don't know those albums? In the '70s Coleman started working with electric guitar and bass, producing albums that were true fusion -- in the sense that fusion produces new elements plus copious energy, not just a mix of the old compounds. Metheny had early on recorded an album of Coleman pieces, and had worked quite a bit with Coleman bassist Charlie Haden, so however strange Song X may seem within Metheny's crossover-dominated catalog, he clearly knew what he was doing here, and plays with exceptional skill. Haden and Jack DeJohnette also work to steady the platform, letting Metheny and Coleman cut loose. The result is a satisfying mix of old-and-new Ornette, a revealing contrast to Coleman's own 1985 album, In All Languages, where he kept his new and reformed old groups separate. The new issue adds six scraps that didn't fit the original LP length, putting them seamlessly up front where they warm up the themes the album proper extends. A

Putumayo Presents: Swing Around the World (1964-2004 [2005], Putumayo World Music). The ringer here is Clark Terry's "Mumbles," dating back to his 1964 encounter with the Oscar Peterson Trio -- a legendary performance on one of the finest records either jazz great ever turned in. Terry and Peterson both had connections to Count Basie, the gold standard for swing. Nobody else here comes closer than admiring the records. Yet "Mumbles" slips agreeably into a compilation where only one cut predates the Squirrel Nut Zippers, the best known of the recent wave of American nouveau swing bands. The "around the world" concept gets off in high gear with a good band from Zimbabwe and a better one from Mauritius, but after that they settle for old-time swing strongholds: the U.S., Italy (Renzo Arbore sounds like Bobby Darin doing a Dean Martin impression), and France (Romane keeps the spirit of Django alive). B+

Radio Pyongyang: Commie Funk and Agit Pop From the Hermit Kingdom (1995-2005 [2005], Sublime Frequencies). The Korean War ended in stalemate in 1953: Kim Il Sung failed in his effort to unify the peninsula under his rule, and the U.S. failed to purge Korea of communism. The shooting stopped then, but the cold war continued. The U.S. in victory had been gracious to defeated Japan and Germany, but the stalemate left both sides nurturing grudges -- even half a century later, when Bush accorded North Korea charter membership in his Axis of Evil. During that period, the U.S. worked to isolate North Korea, and North Korea in turn morphed into the Hermit Kingdom, far and away the strangest corner in the world: the only technologically advanced country untouched by globalization. Along the way Kim Il Sung's Stalinism evolved into a neopagan cult of "Dear Leader" Kim Jong Il, a strange mix of Stalin's self-fetishism and the ancient emperor cults of China and Japan. Still, background can't prepare you for the shock of this sampling of North Korea's music. Christiaan Virant taped most of this listening to Pyongyang radio from Beijing in 1995-98: bright pop, light opera, kiddie choruses, other things I can't begin to identify. Propaganda, of course, but the edit doesn't go overboard, and the cuts avoid the jarring juxtapositions of this label's other radio mixes. Like nothing else. B+

John Surman/John Warren: Tales of the Algonquin (1971 [2005], Vocalion) Surman's early work -- under his own name, in a group called the Trio, and as a sideman with John McLaughlin, Mike Westbrook and others -- is remarkably diverse and adventurous, the work of an immensely talented young multi-reedist at a point when history when jazz in England made a sudden leap from trad to avant with scarcely a glance at bebop orthodoxy. But what makes this album unique is its size and sweep: the big band features six brass, five reeds, piano, two basses, two sets of drums. The brass is tightly arranged by Warren, mostly for color and power, while the reeds shoot the stars with an explosive series of solos. The combination marks an interesting midpoint between latter-day swing bands like Basie and Kenton, with their crack discipline, and the emerging free orchestras like Globe Unity. As such, it is a direction that few of these people explored further, making it all the more interesting as a period curio. A-

Briefly Noted

Additional Consumer News

Two to three years back Fantasy released a series of The Best of X records, where X was a major jazz artist. The discs were stuffed, up in the 75-80 minute range, making them nice introductory samplers. Since Concord merged with (or submerged) Fantasy, they've decided to relaunch part of this series -- specifically, the titles that were based primarily on Bob Weinstock's Prestige label. Prestige was an important label in the '50s and '60s, but they were notorious for recording quickie jam sessions on the cheap. Some were marvelous anyway -- Miles Davis, for instance, spent two days recording what turned out to be four albums just to wiggle out of his contract: Cookin', Relaxin', Workin' and Steamin', hard bop classics all. The reissues have been redubbed Prestige Profiles, each with a bonus "sampler" disc -- average length 48 minutes, each unique. As the main discs are identical to the old ones, I'll list the ones I've previously reviewed below, omitting those I haven't heard (Kenny Burrell, Miles Davis, Red Garland, and bluesman Lightnin' Hopkins). While I don't feel that the samplers have much value -- but then I dare say my jazz collection is bigger than yours -- one plus is that the new titles are accurate: regardless of how good the music is, none of the major artists actually did their best work on Prestige (possible exception: Sonny Rollins, Saxophone Colossus).

Lead-in:

In an infinite universe, all the music you'll ever need already exists somewhere. We find more each month: jazz old (New Orleans, Duke Ellington), advanced (John Surman, Ornette Coleman, Roland Kirk, Cecil Taylor), and pop (Herb Alpert, Jazzanova); roots (Taj Mahal) and rubes (Bob Dylan); Sublime Frequencies from the arc of chaos (Iraq, North Korea, Palestine, Mali, Indonesia); many more (50 records).


Copyright © 2005 Tom Hull.