Sunday, May 30, 2004

Music: Initial count 9243 rated (+15), 1004 unrated (+10). First Jazz Consumer Guide is almost done, although I have a lot more music in hand than I've been able to cover. All in all, it's a rather scary exercise.

• Monty Alexander/Ernest Ranglin: Rocksteady (2003 [2004], Telarc). Back to Jamaica for two natives whose minds sometimes wander. This is a catalog of instrumentals to classic Jamaican pop hits -- the two exceptions are Augustus Pablo's originally instrumental "East of the River Nile," "Pressure Drop" (which Toots sings), and one of Alexander's own pieces. The latter has the advantage of being better organized for piano. Everything else here pretty much turns to mush. Alexander is a fancier pianist than Jackie Mittoo -- he is, after all, a jazz musician, a superior form of being -- but the effect is to gum up the rhythm with all this extra gunk. Ranglin is the most famous of all the Jamaican guitarists, but he too is a victim of his own jazzifying -- in fact, he's the main problem here. C-
• Back to the Crossroads: The Roots of Robert Johnson (1926-36 [2004], Yazoo). U
• Ed Blackwell: Ed Blackwell Project, Vol. II: What It Be Like? (1992 [1994], Enja). Graham Haynes (cornet), Carlos Ward (alto sax, flute), Mark Helias (bass), Ed Blackwell (drums), special guest: Don Cherry (trumpet, on "Lito Pt. 2" only). Cut shortly before Blackwell died; release shortly afterwards. Blackwell had few records in his own name, but was a key drummer in the avant-garde transitional years: most famously with Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry, and in the Coleman-inspired Old and New Dreams band, but he also played with Eric Dolphy, Archie Shepp, Mal Waldron, David Murray, Joe Lovano, and a few others. A little underrecorded to start, but it comes into better definition with some volume. Interesting work, not least because of the drummer. B+
• The Chemical Brothers: Singles 93-03 (1993-2003, Astralwerks, 2CD). Finally threw in the towel on this one, and wrote a near-nothing Brief Note -- the bottom line is that I can't tell the difference between their albums, let alone between album and single versions of songs that don't much distinugish themselves from the non-singles. It's all pretty good. Had they reduced it to a single CD I'd have to accept it as a "best of" -- what else could it be? But completism demands some sort of caveat, and this doesn't inspire me enough to overcome my instinct to hedge. Maybe someday I'll sort it out. B+
• Duke Ellington: The Bubber Miley Era: 1924-1929 ([2003], Jazz Legends). I've taken every opportunity I've had to remind people that RCA's neglect of their Early Ellington legacy is criminal, so consider yourself reminded once again. Then show them who's boss by buying this $9.99 list, 21-song, 67:03 miracle. In 1929 Ellington wasn't yet the greatest composer in American history, and his band wasn't yet the sublime Duesenburg of the late '30s, let alone the sumptuous Rolls of the '50s or the dashing Ferrari of the '60s -- no, it was merely the hottest club in Harlem. Bubber Miley was his ill-fated star -- his muted trumpet the yang to Louis Armstrong's resounding ying. A+
• The Johnny Griffin and Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis Quintet: Tough Tenors (1960 [2004], Jazzland OJC). The first of a series, which went on to include Toughest Tenors, Tough Tenor Favorites, Tough Tenor Back Again, Tough Tenors Again 'n Again, Toughness Tenors, who knows what else -- one of the best was The Tenor Scene, which lists Davis first. B+
• Sir Roland Hanna: Everything I Love (2002, IPO). The first of three excellent records on IPO, recorded shortly before the Detroit pianist died. This, like many of his records, is solo. The songbook is broad, the selection erudite, the playing thoughtful. In other words, it's a typical example of his work. B+
• Sir Roland Hanna: Tributaries: Reflections on Tommy Flanagan (2002 [2003], IPO). Flanagan died shortly before this was cut; Hanna died shortly thereafter. Both were Detroit pianists; both were meticulous craftsmen, and were especially adroit accompanists. This is solo, of course. The subject and the extra care raise it a bit above Hanna's usual high standard. A-
• Gregory Isaacs: Greatest Love Songs (1973-80 [2003], Hip-O/Island). I normally hate the "love song" concept, but for the fresh prince of Lovers Rock this is really just another best-of. All of his best-ofs are more/less great, and this one is no exception. You don't need all of them; any of them would suffice. Even this one. A-
• Michael Jackson: Number Ones (1979-2001 [2003], Epic). A-
• Jimmy Eat World (1998, Fueled by Ramen). Alt-rock group with a pretty good reputation. This is the only thing I've heard from them -- picked it up at the library, and it turns out it's only a 5-song EP, although that's good for a little more than 20 minutes. Sounds good enough, but doesn't do a lot for me. Last song is a bit saccharine. B-
• The Best of Kiss (20th Century Masters: The Millennium Collection) (1974-79 [2003], Mercury/Chronicles). A generation grew up on them and seems to have thought that they were as good as my own generation thought the Monkees was. I was on Casablanca's mailing list during their heyday, and filed their albums without ever bothering to listen to them -- never gave them a second thought until the Replacements covered "Black Diamond." Most of this is completely ordinary hard rock. One exception is "Hard Luck Woman" -- some sort of Rod Stewart-type ballad move, which needless to say doesn't work very well. In general, the first half is crisper. Helps not to watch. Not awful. B-
• Lyambiko: Shades of Delight (2002 [2003], Nagel Heyer). An Afro-German who sings perfectly nuanced English, surrounded by an eponymous band of determinedly optimistic Übermenschen, they show their good taste and smarts many times over. The songlist ranges from Irving Berlin to Mose Allison and Oscar Brown Jr. to Van Morrison. They do Strayhorn for drama rather than beauty, and Jobim for subtlety instead of beat, the work a little bossa into "Morning" just to show that they can. She even gets to explore her real or imagined roots in a couple of traditional African pieces -- one woven into a "Savannah Suite" that starts with a jungle rhythm called "Drum and Bass and Bananas." A-
• Brian Lynch Meets Bill Charlap (2003 [2004], Sharp Nine). This has turned into a tough album to rate, not so much because stylistically it exhibits what you might call hard bop recidivism, but because the level of professionalism is so high it's almost automatic to start taking it for granted. Lynch leads forthrightly through the whole album -- a couple of originals, a few standards, a latin piece, a minor Charlie Parker gem. Charlap provides impeccable backup, but doesn't lead much. The bass (Dwayne Burno) and drums (Jon Farnsworth) are first rate, and Marc Edelman gets an astonishingly natural sound out of the group. I'm duly impressed, but I can't bring myself to love it. And not because Lee Morgan has done better; more likely because Lynch, Charlap, Edelman, et al., aim lower. B+
• Pete Malinverni: The Tempest (2003 [2004], Reservoir). Good record, rock solid piano trio, goes through the mainstream motions with aplomb. I could play this another dozen times, enjoy each time, and still not be able to tell you why this is better than a dozen other similar trios. So that doesn't say much for me as a jazz critic, now does it? But it helps nail down the grade, because the very fact that I can't tell you why says that it must not be all that great. So that's where we stand. B+
• The Yoko Miwa Trio: Fadeless Flower (2002 [2004], PJL). Sounds brilliant at first, a piano with a rich, luscious sound working in what is basically a mainstream groove. She's very skillful, technically impressive; the whole thing comes off as delicately arranged, artful, even though there's nothing new or particularly interesting here. Does fade a bit in the second half. B+
• Tisziji Muńoz: Divine Radiance (2001 [2003], Dreyfus). According to his website, Muńoz was born in Brooklyn in 1946. He plays guitar and synth, and bills himself as an astrologer. He has recorded a dozen or more albums on his own Anami Music label, but this is the first one to get outside distribution (e.g., it's the only one listed on AMG). The lineup is impressive: Pharoah Sanders (sax), Ravi Coltrane (sax), Rashied Ali (drums), Paul Shaffer (piano, organ, synth), Don Pate (bass), Cecil McBee (bass). That's a lot of overkill, and much of this turns into a free jazz bash of '60s dimensions (pretensions?). Energetic, powerful, cathartic, possibly full of shit. I downloaded an audio sample from his 1997 album Present Without a Trace, which was a much clearer example of his guitar, and liked it quite a bit. (Rashied Ali was the drummer there, too.) His discography goes back to a 1976 record with Pharoah Sanders on India Navigation, and includes records from 1994 featuring Dave Liebman and Nick Brignola, so this lineup didn't just happen. B+
• John Pizzarelli: Bossa Nova (2003 [2004], Telarc). An album so full of bad ideas that it's surprising that it's not worse than it is. The explanation, of course, is that at least a third of these songs are unsinkable -- at least as long as you keep it light and breezy, and hire some pros to handle the percussion, and you know that Pizzarelli has too much taste to screw up on that level. On the other hand, another third of the songs have nothing much going for them, and Pizzarelli still has too much taste to rough them up either. Obvious bad ideas like the string quartet and the flute quartet don't cause too much trouble. Harry Allen, of course, is a plus, but he's deployed rather sparely. Pizzarelli sings OK, even in Portuguese; again, no surprise, but not much comfort. The real weak spot is his guitar, which has both atrophied from underuse and never really gets the hang of this material. Makes you suspect that Charlie Byrd actually knew what he was doing. B-
• Putumayo Presents Brazilian Groove (1997-2003, Putumayo World Music). B+
• Putumayo Presents French Café ([2003], Putumayo World Music). Deliberately atmospheric, meant more to enchant the tourists than to explicate the natives, or the immigres. B
• Putumayo Presents Nuevo Latino ([2004], Putumayo World Music). B+
• Putumayo Presents Sahara Lounge ([2004], Putumayo World Music). B+
• Putumayo Presents Women of Africa ([2004], Putumayo World Music). Little star power (the big names are Angelique Kidjo and Dorothy Masuka, but Dobet Gnahoré and Khadja Nin score highest here), nothing from Congo or Mali or Egypt or Ethiopia or Senegal; it's a big place, and they should be able to do better. B-
• Putumayo Presents World Reggae ([2004], Putumayo World Music). Not the Jamaican diaspora, nor the Africans on the other end of the Black Star Liner (although Alpha Blondy and Majek Fashek show up); just the International Bob Marley Fan Club, but this makes me curious about an Algerian named Intik. B
• The Essential Simon & Garfunkel (1964-75 [2003], Columbia/Legacy, 2CD). They've reunited so frequently and so opportunistically (albeit never for long) that it's clear that they speak to a sizable market niche, which I would estimate is mid-upper 50s, middle class, college educated, liberal arts, liberal in most things, yet also quietly conformist. I just missed being part of that niche on almost every count, but not by such a margin that I could ignore it. Like Simon, I could have said that "I've got my books and my poetry to protect me." But the only time my books actually protected me was then I used them as shields to block rocks from neighborhood bullies. And poetry? Well, my brother got expelled from school over a poetry notebook I helped him assemble. (I guess Wichita just wasn't ready for Wichita Vortex Sutra.) I grew up hating "I Am a Rock" -- more precisely, I felt like one, and hated that. And there are other pieces from Simon's songbook that provoke the same visceral reaction in me -- "My Little Town" is the most obvious one here. So I'm not a fair judge here, but I'll tell you what I think I would say if I was one: First, they have nothing to do with folk-rock; Simon was born too late for Tin Pan Alley, but that's where he came from and always belonged, and like many of the greats there he was best when he was stealing ideas from other genres (as he notably did on his two good solo albums: Paul Simon and Graceland). Garfinkel was at best a foil, but his harmony was deployed brilliantly on a few occasions, and rarely is the problem even when he's helpless (which is most of the time). There are something like 9-10 good songs among the 33 here, and the good songs are often upbeat and almost always marked by undeniable pop hooks, which Simon has a knack for. On the other hand, at least that many of these songs are just plain lame. That Simon was so amenable to lame songs suggests that he fell in love with his lyrics, or that he just didn't care. B-
• Pipi Skid: Funny Farm (2004, Peanuts & Corn). Another Canadian rapper, this one from Winnipeg, working with Vancouver product McEnroe. Reminds me of Buck 65, not just in his accent -- in his beats as well, although the production is perhaps a bit more mainstream hip hop. Political too: "from Columbus to the War on Terror, you can count me out." Takes it hard to Bush, too; better than anything on Fat Wreck's comp. A-
• Spring Heel Jack: The Sweetness of the Water (2004, Thirsty Ear). John Coxon and Ashley Wales continue to indulge their dreams in working with world class avant-garde jazz musicians, but the musicians seem to be losing interest in working with them. We're down to four now, with John Edwards and Mark Sanders replacing William Parker and Han Bennink, although I'm not sure that even Edwards and Sanders will put this one down on their resume. The front line is holdover Evan Parker plus now second billed Wadada Leo Smith, and they don't contribute a lot either: Smith does some little figures and occasionally rips off a high note, while Parker presumably has something to do with the occasional warbling. The rest of the sounds presumably come from Coxon & Wales, who do seem to be more active this time (Wales even claims some of the trumpet), but the musical fabric here is tattered and often barren. Isolated spots still hold some interest, especially the electronic swell that launches "Autumn" (topped by the mother of all Smith high notes). B-
• Tomasz Stanko: Suspended Night (2002 [2004], ECM). As the jazz scene developed in Poland in the '60s, Stanko filled a role similar to Kenny Wheeler in the U.K.: while most frequently heard in avant-garde contexts, his own records were so modestly attired that he sounded if not mainstream at least fashionably post-bop. Now in his own 60s, he's attracted what's always described as his "young Polish quartet" (the missing names are Wasilewski, Kurkiewicz, and Miskiewicz), and this is their second album (after The Soul of Things). Both albums are built from series of unobvious variations -- think of them as settings for the gemlike clarity of Stanko's trumpet. A-
• Craig Taborn: Junk Magic (2004, Thirsty Ear). Taborn got his start in James Carter's original quartet, but as Carter moved ever more mainstream Taborn went downtown, lining up with Tim Berne. Taborn's been fascinated with electronics for a while now, and he did Berne a world of good, giving him a more diverse and interesting background which may also have smoothed out some of Berne's rants. I missed Taborn's first Blue Series album, but this one is very deep into the electronics, with bit parts from Mat Maneri (viola) and Aaron Stewart (tenor sax), and little obvious from David King (drums). Several cuts have some fascination ("Prismatica" and "Stalagmite" are helped out a lot by having some beats), others seem like rough sketches, or maybe just sonic dabbling. My problem with it is that it's just not as listenable as I'd like. B
• Bennie Wallace: The Nearness of You (2003 [2004], Enja/Justin Time). With a comely young model draped over him and his saxphone erect, this is the most blatant make out record he's ever recorded, but he's been evolving into an old smoothie for a decade or more: since The Old Songs he's explored sax balladry more intensively than anyone since Ben Webster. While he lacks Webster's fat vibrato, he gets a distinctive tingle from his hard earned modernism. The albums are remarkably consistent, differentiated mostly by the pianists. This time it's Kenny Barron, who shepherded Stan Getz through his own late ballad phase. A-

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

I read Peter Galbraith's New York Review of Books article on How to Get Out of Iraq, but somehow I missed the part where we get out of Iraq. It's safe to say that he know a good deal more about the history and political situation in Kurdish Iraq than I do. And it's certainly the case that his assertions about Kurdish political aspirations cast a dark cloud over the prospects for any sort of united democratic Iraq once the country has been freed from U.S. occupation. But to what extent is this predicament really true? Alternatively, to what extent is it colored by Galbraith's own sense of a preferred solution? (Which is, roughly speaking, to turn Iraq into a loose federation, modelled on whatever's left of Yugoslavia.)

Of course, I don't a lot more about Sunni Iraq or Shi'a Iraq, but I don't find that Galbraith's assertions there make any sense. All along there have been debates over whether Iraq would come together or fall apart given the absence of a political strongman, and those debate have cut across positions on whether the U.S. should have invaded. I've generally leaned toward the conclusion that if all Iraqis had the chance they'd compromise and maintain a single, united Iraq. The corrollary to this is that the factors that civil war mongers bring up are meant to subvert any real democracy in Iraq.

Sunday, May 23, 2004

Music: Initial count 9228 rated (+20), 994 unrated (+7). Finished what I understand to be the last Rearview Mirror column, on three Hip-O box sets of varying quality. Back to work full time (almost) on jazz, although it would be nice to finish the almost finished next Recycled Goods while there's still some May left to publish it in.

• Atlantic Rhythm and Blues, Volume 3 (1955-58 [1985], Atlantic). Picked this up at a store closing sale. This series came out at the start of the CD era, and has been long out of print. Atlantic's role in the development of R&B is no secret, and the whole series is pretty much guaranteed to please -- I don't have much of it. Only thing here I don't recognize is the Cookies' "In Paradise" -- pretty good song. Beyond that the only cuts here that come from artists who don't merit a single artist comp are the Bobbettes ("Mr. Lee") and Ivory Joe Hunter ("Since I Met You Baby" and "Empty Arms"; don't recall the latter, but I do already have a Hunter comp, so it's probably on it). Aside from that: Drifters, Joe Turner, Clovers, Ray Charles, LaVern Baker, Clyde McPhatter, Chuck Willis, Ruth Brown, Coasters. Any questions? A
• Atlantic Rhythm and Blues, Volume 1 (1947-52 [1985], Atlantic). Cleaning up now. Atlantic's earliest period starts off with Joe Morris and Tiny Grimes, neither of whom will knock you dead. The early Professor Longhair is early, too -- as I recall those were released under Roy Byrd's own moniker. They did come up with a hit with Stick McGhee's "Drinkin' Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee," then they came up with Ruth Brown, the Clovers, the Cardinals, Willis Jackson, and Ray Charles. Tough call, but the best stuff here is available elsewhere, and the rest is of relatively marginal value. But Atlantic was definitely on its way. Don't have Vol. 2, but it should be better, just a shade less than Vol. 3. B+
• Atlantic Rhythm and Blues, Volume 6 (1966-1969 [1985], Atlantic). Wilson Pickett, Eddie Floyd ("Knock on Wood"), Otis Redding, Pickett again, Sam & Dave, Arthur Conley ("Sweet Soul Music"), more Sam & Dave, seven cuts of Aretha Franklin, two Joe Tex, King Curtis, more Otis Redding, Archie Bell & the Drells ("Tighten Up"), Clarence Carter, closes with Brook Benton ("Rainy Night in Georgia"), pretty much a no-brainer. Two cuts near the end are suspicious: Roberta Flack ("The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face") and R.B. Greaves ("Take a Letter, Maria"). Flack is OK, which is fine in this limited dose; Greaves is a bit better than that. A peak period. A
• Sir Roland Hanna/Carrie Smith: I've Got a Right to Sing the Blues: The Songs of Harold Arlen (2002, IPO). Smith has such dramatic presence that it's easy to see why she's been more successful on stage than in the studio. And when she turns loose on Arlen's flightier fare, like "It's Only a Paper Moon," it's clear that whatever her rights to the blues may be, she's first and foremost a showgirl. Hanna often records alone, but unlike so many other pianists there's nothing showy about his solos. He's a model of economy and precision, and that serves him especially well as the sole accompanist here. His leads frame these famous songs lucidly, then he lets her do her thing. A-
• Charles Lloyd/Billy Higgins: Which Way Is East (2001 [2004], ECM, 2CD). Recorded in a living room -- at least that's what the pictures suggest; the notes only identify Montecito, California, which would be Lloyd's Big Sur turf -- shortly before Higgins died. Organized as a set of clusters (or something somewhat less organized than suites), each with 3-5 fragments, ranging from "What Is Man?" to "Desire," "Devotion," and "Surrender." A bit less than half of this features Lloyd on sax (alto or tenor) and Higgins on drums -- i.e., doing what they do best -- while the other half has them switching off to other instruments, often with vocals. The former makes for the sort of intimate sax/drums duo that often works well: here Lloyd's long Coltraneish lines and thick tenor tone emerge sharply. The other half is more amateur, which cuts the intensity of the sax and is rather fun in its own right. Lloyd's piano is more pecked than played, and Higgins guitar is barely strummed, although on "Blues Tinge" it adequately supports a straight blues vocal. Higgins other vocals tend toward African chants, and he gets a vibrant sound out of his guimbri. Lloyd also deploys a variety of flutes and exotic reed instruments, and Higgins tries out various hand drums. Similar types of things have been done elsewhere -- Bill Cole and Kali Fasteau are two who regularly work along these lines, but their records feel more like work; this one feels more like play, and its homespun nature puts it over the top. A-
• Michiko Ogawa Trio: . . . It's All About Love! (2003, Arbors). She plays old-fashioned piano and sings old songs as expertly as anyone I've heard in years, but she's so in love with her "special guest" saxophonist that she holds back, only singing five of fourteen here. Harry Allen is a big thing in Japan, but his major label (BMG) doesn't bother to release his records here. That's a shame, but her arrangements show him off more adroitly than his own albums. When people note that he plays like he's never heard Coltrane, they mean that he never shows stress, that he never feels the need to search. He leads with the confident swagger of Coleman Hawkins, and fills in with the finnesse of Paul Gonsalves, and he's satisfied with that. A-
• Quartet B: Crystal Mountain (2003, Fonó). Sometimes they switch to tarogato and bouzouki, even bring in a guest cimbalom player, but it's hard to see these Hungarians as folkies. It just seems to be part of their good Communist education, like the classics. Leader Mihály Borbély also plays in the folk group Vujisics, but in this context he sounds as clear and spacious on soprano sax as Jan Garbarek. And his bouzouki player spends far more time on guitar, which he plays with the studied eclecticism of a Bill Frisell. A-
• Eric Reed: Happiness (2000 [2001], Nagel Heyer). Stanley Crouch loves this guy, but we shouldn't hold that against him. Nor his (not unrelated) association with Wynton Marsalis. All those things prove is that Reed is slightly to the right of mainstream. The one previous album that I have heard didn't strike me as offering anything of interest, but this one is ebullient, to say the least. This is a label that likes to have fun with its old fashioned music, and the lineup can do a lot: Marcus Printup (trumpet), Wycliffe Gordon (trombone), Wayne Escoffery (tenor/soprano sax), Wessell Anderson (alto sax), plus bass, drums, and a few extra guests. "Suite Sisters: Crazy Red" is about as ebullient a piece of music as I've heard in a long time. B+
• Randy Sandke: Cliffhanger (1999 [2003], Nagel Heyer). Another old fashioned trumpeter, who cut a series of bright, fun, but less than spectacular albums for Concord, and has now moved on to the German label. I haven't heard The Re-Discovered Louis and Bix (4-star rated in the Penguin Guide), but this is by far the best one I have heard. The band is superb -- especially the Washingtons, which you expect by now, but also Mulgrew Miller and Harry Allen, both of whom prefer to run flat out. The ballad features focus more on Sandke, and he acquits himself well there. B+
• Jenny Scheinman: Shalagaster (2004, Tzadik). The klezmer one expects of a violinist on John Zorn's label is just one of many touchstones of this transworld jazz. Hints of India and Brazil also appear, but she isn't rooted anywhere except in the sound of her group. With Myra Melford playing harmonium, Scheinman's violin and Russ Johnson's muted trumpet build up thick layers of sound. When Melford switches to piano, the options become more rhythmic. And that's what Scheinman sees in the world: lots of options. A-
• Zu & Spaceways Inc.: Radiale (2003 [2004], Atavistic). The delta between the impeccably free jazz DKV Trio and Spaceways Inc. is in the bass players: the latter group's Nate McBride favors hard funk rhythms, which are food for thought for Ken Vandermark and Hamid Drake. The first Spaceways album covered Funkadelic and Sun Ra, while the second was built from Vandermark originals with the same vibe. Zu is a trio from Italy, dominated by the baritone sax of Luca T. Mai. They showed up in Chicago a few years back and cut an album, Igneo for punk avatar Steve Albini, which Vandermark guested on. The first half of this album is just Zu and Vandermark, improvising around simple twists, the two saxes looming heavily. The second half brings in the rest of Spaceways for a double trio, which rips through pieces by the Art Ensemble of Chicago and Sun Ra, and rocks out on two Funkadelic grooves. A-

Saturday, May 22, 2004

Book: Raja Shehadeh: Strangers in the House: Coming of Age in Occupied Palestine (Penguin Books)

Aziz Shehadeh was a prominent lawyer in Jaffa up to 1948, when Britain relinquished control of Palestine and Israel was born. He was an Anglican Christian. His wife's family was well to do, owning a hotel in Jaffa, and a summer house in Ramallah. Like most residents of Jaffa, they fled under fire by the Irgun. In their case, they were able to go to the summer house in Ramallah instead of having to flee to a refugee camp. (The British shipped a great many residents of Jaffa to refugee camps in Beirut, which have since had particularly sad stories.) Raja Shehadeh was born into this Ramallah exile. He grew up much like his father, but also different -- a generation difference marked by exile and occupation. He followed his father into law, studying in Beirut and London before returning to work in his father's law practice in Ramallah, in the occupied West Bank. Both father and son are notable, in their own rather distinct ways, for the moderation of their political views -- in particular for their strong belief in the essential rule of law. I'll return to the father's own efforts to promote peace, but first we need to pay some attention to the son's efforts to promote the rule of law.

Although not central to this book, it seems to me that Raja Shehadeh has done two especially noteworthy things during the period of this book. One is to have patiently and meticulously documented the everyday overhead of Israel's occupation on the West Bank. The other is how he, again patiently and meticulously, has worked out the legal underpinnings of the occupation (aside from its much more famous extralegal operations). That neither of these were done in a conventional political framework only adds to their impact -- in particular, it doesn't allow them to be easily ignored. This is not the same as saying that he comes to no political conclusions, but he is clearly outside and well distanced from the dominant political frameworks. What he does ask is that we take the rule of law as a fundamental requirement for any civilized society, and he does a very effective job of showing how the rule of law has been subverted by the politics of occupation (and, for that matter, of resistance).

Given recent events, one particular description seems especially worth quoting at length. This came from an interview with a young man, Khalid, whose had been detained and whose mother had hired him to help out. From pp. 153-154:

"After my arrest," Khalid told me, "I was blindfolded, thrown into a jeep, and brought to the Tegart [Israeli prison, originally built by the British]. It was late at night. I was brought before interrogators who concentrated their blows on my face and chest. I was asked to confess. I said I had nothing to confess. But they said they knew everything about me. I said if this was the case why are you asking. They did not like this and continued to beat me until the early hours of the morning when I was returned to my cell. I then heard an electric motor, which I eventually realied was turned on every morning at daybreak. This became my way to keep track of time, because my cell did not get any light. Part of the strategy was to disorient me by depriving me of sleep and food.

"'If you don't want to confess,' I was told, 'we will keep you here until you change your mind.' But they didn't know who they were dealing with. Judging by the times I heard the motor turned on, two days and two nights had passed before I was given food. Then they shoved me into a dirty toilet with shit smeared on the walls and floor and there I was made to eat my miserly meal. I did, anyway, because I was very hungry. I had hardly finished when I was taken to another room and subjected to a cold shower. While still wet I was put under a fan. I tried not to shiver; I did not want to give them the pleasure of seeing me suffer. But I could not control my body. It shivered, like a leaf, as it had never done before."

"'Now will you talk?' they said.

"'What about?' I answered.

"'You think you are too smart for us,' they said, 'we shall see who will have his way at the end.' They dragged me to a corridor where other prisoners were handcuffed and hung by the hands to a peg in the wall with a coarse stinky burlap bag placed over their heads. I joined their line and became another suffering body denied light and clean air, concerned only with the excruciating pain in my limbs. At one point I called the guard and asked to use the toilet. I got no response. Eventually I could not control my kidneys and the urine trickled down my dirty trousers making me stink. When it splashed on the floor I was slapped and cursed and called a filthy animal."

At this point Khalid turned to me and asked: "How long have I been at the Tegart?"

"Eighteen days," I said.

"It feels like months. After the first week I lost count. I had thought I was in for months. But you say it's only been eighteen days?"

I'm not sure when this occurred (late '70s or early '80s seems likely), but it reads like yesterday's newspapers. We hear much these days about how U.S. MPs in Iraq were inadequately trained, but from this it sounds like they hadn't missed a trick. One of the more peculiar things about the U.S. occupation of Iraq is how, as the occupation sours and we are ever more desperate for good will from Arabs, Bush has moved even more stringly to embrace Sharon. Any remotely sober analysis of Israel's occupation techniques must by now conclude that brutal policies of dominance have undermined Israel's security and welfare while spoiling its few victories. So the notion that the U.S. has anything to learn from Israel is delusional.

My father listed the names of forty Palestinians from different parts of the occupied territories. He believed that these forty dignitaties should convene and declare the establishment of the provisional government of the state of Palestine. They would declare their willingness to sign a peace treaty with the state of Israel on the grounds of mutual recognition and the immediate cessation of all acts of hostility. Negotiations would then immediately begin to resolve all aspects of the Palestinian problem. This would silence the Arab states, which never saved us from the disasters that befell us. If this was the will of the largest concentration of Palestinians, what was left for others to say? We, the Palestinaisn, who lost our lands in 1948 and remained in this part of Palestine despite the misery and deprivation. We, who were now resolved to come to terms with our history and to determine our future life in peace and reconciliation with our bitterest enemy. What right would any of the Arab states have to denounce such an action taken by the Palestinians themselves?

The legal foundation for the initiative would be United Nations Resolution 181, which had called for the partition of Palestine into two states: one for the Arabs and another for the Jews. This was how my father thought the conflict between Palestinians and Israelis would end.

It was a simple plan, one that he had worked out in full and believed must be implemented immediately if it were to succeed. The two Israelis carried his proposal and wrote their own memorandum, which they presented to the Israeli coalition government headed by Levi Eshkol.

[ . . . ]

But in 1967 he was 55 years old. While others were paralyzed with fear, he was clear headed. He saw this misfortune as a repeat of an earlier round. In 1948 he had abandoned his fate to the Arab armies and ended up on the other side of the border having lost everything, defeated and destitute. Once again he had counted on the Arab armies to fight his war in 1967, and again the result was defeat as well as the occupation of the rest of Palestine. Now was the time, he thought, for the Palestinians to draw the correct conclusions, to take their fate in their own hands.

Those who did not want a Palestinian state, he believed, included the Arab countries. They wanted to keep the Palestinians in bondage and continue to have the threat of war as a justification for not making long-overdue political changes within their own countries. He knew the odds were not in favor of the Palestinians' actions. He predicted that this defeat would be followed by stirred emotions and bravado. And then people would wait for the next round of war, which would decidedly be another futile war, because he now believed that war was not the way Palestinians would achieve their national aspirations.

He also believed that Israel must be concerned about the prospect of controlling the million Palestinians now under its jurisdiction. He did not think that there would be any meaningful resistance by the Palestinians in the West Bank, but Israeli apprehensions of possible civil disobedience -- or worse, street fighting in the narrow lanes of the old Palestinian cities -- could be used as a factor to persuade Israel to agree to the final politial resolution he was now proposing. For all these reasons time was of the essence. It had to happen now if it were to happen at all.

He seemed to have found an answer that satisfied him and he did not look back. He was a decisive man who hated hesitation. He was brave to the point of recklessness. He took no precautions. He published several articles in local and international journals statin gthat the only resolution to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict was through the peaceful establishment of a Palestinian state in the West Bank, the Gaza Strip, and East Jerusalem. He made himself available to journalists and gave interviews to the many who flocked to our house. But most important, he drafted the declaration for the establishment of the Palestinian state, which he circulated to other Palestinian leaders in the area and then presented to the Israeli leadership. He knew that if he could garner enough support for his ideas among both Palestinians and Israelis, history could be changed. He believed this was a unique opportunity.

But the Israeli government leaders to whom the plan was presented didn't even respond. They just let it pass. They, and we, missed another opportunity for peace.

Dan [Bavely, one of the two Israelis mentioned above] wrote a book called Missed Opportunities and Dreams. Talking to Dan helped me see the events of that time in their proper historical perspective. I told him that I didn't believe my father was a politician. He was instead a visionary. A politician assesses events and takes what actions he thinks he can get away with. How could my father have possibly thought he could get away with this one?

Dan disagreed: "Aziz was a strategist. He was shrewd and meticulous and had thought of every angle: the legal, the political, the economic."

"But do you really believe it could have worked?" I asked.

"Yes," he said emphatically.

"And what about the PLO?"

"It was not until 1968 that the organization came into prominence, after the battle of Karameh. At the time your father made his proposal, the PLO was not in the picture."

"And Jordan?"

"Jordan wanted the whole thing back. In Israel we had no interest in returning the territories to Jordan."

"Was East Jerusalem to be included in the Palestinian state?"

Jerusalem was not a problem then. Everything that you hear now about Jerusalem and the way it is presented as a central issue that is among the most difficult to resolve did not feature then. Yes, Jerusalem was part of the deal."

I said, "You were willing to agree to a full Palestinian state."

"A full Palestinian state."

Obviously, this proposal didn't fail only on the Palestinian side. In particular, it was just a matter of days until Israel annexed East Jerusalem. It's harder to read just what the situation with Jordan was. In 1947-48 Israeli leaders negotiated with King Abdullah of Jordan to cede large parts of the West Bank rather than allow them to become part of an independent Palestinian state (Golda Meir, who soon replaced Eshkol as Prime Minister, was personally involved in those negotiations), and the "Jordan option" remained a favorite of Shimon Peres (also a prominent figure in the Israeli government of the time) until King Hussein eventually killed the idea. The coalition government also included people like Menachem Begin, whose idea of Israel's proper borders didn't stop at the Jordan River.

Still, the prediction that time was of the essence -- that such a proposal had to be moved on quickly in order to make it successful -- was clearly correct. One thing that I think that proposals like this do is to show, by their very reasonableness, that Israel's oft-stated desire for peace was less than met the ear. Israel accepted the initial U.N. partition proposal, but didn't implement its proposed borders, and rejected every subsequent mediation proposal -- going so far as to assassinate the U.N.'s first mediator. It's easy now to fault the Arab committee's rejection of partition, but it should be recalled that the rejection took place before the nakba -- the refugee crisis -- at a time when many Arabs lived in areas allocated to the Jewish partitions; also that Britain itself did nothing to implement the U.N. partition boundaries, and conspired to bring Transjordan into the West Bank. Israel consistently refused to negotiate peace treaties following the U.N. brokered armistice agreements. Over the next 20 years Israel provoked many border disputes, especially with Syria, as well as attacking positions in Gaza and the West Bank (e.g., the Sharon-led attack on Qibya in 1953, generally cited as his first major atrocity). Israel waged aggressive wars in 1956 and 1967, and has continued to occupy territory seized in 1967 to today. One can cite many more examples, especially regarding the Palestinians.

It is worth noting that even under the many insults and injustices of military rule in the occupied territories, it took 20 years before the Palestinians inside the West Bank and Gaza raised a significant level of resistance. Therefore, it's hard to see that there would have been a problem forming a Palestinian state in 1967 that would have recognized Israel, and it's clear that that would have undercut any anti-Israel positions among Arabs elsewhere. There would still have been the refugee crisis to resolve, and that would have been thorny, but it doesn't appear to have been a precondition. It is likely that the resolution then, as now, would have been for the refugees to move to the Palestinian state, and that would have been easier done then, with much less longlasting damage. Moreover, with the Palestinians happy, about all that Egypt and Syria could have done was to sue for peace, with Israel returning the conquered lands in exchange for demilitarization and normalization of relations. On the other hand, what did Israel gain by ignoring this proposal? More wars, much hatred, a legacy of imperialism, and a thoroughly militarized society increasingly dominated by religious maniacs, increasingly ostracized by the rest of the world.

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

One more note on the Korean War: Following WWII three countries were partitioned between the U.S. and the Soviet Union: Germany, Austria, and Korea. Germany and Austria also had British and French partitions; Korea just had Soviet and U.S. partitions. Each of these was ultimately handled differently, and there were different reasons for each. The one we forget about is Austria, for the simple reason that it was peacefully reconstituted as a whole nation, and thereafter it never caused trouble for anyone. The agreement there was that Austria had to remain neutral between the U.S. and the Soviet Union, and that neutrality served Austria very well.

The differences between Austria and Germany were that Austria was a much smaller country and, more importantly, wasn't blamed for WWII. After two world wars, Stalin wanted to throttle Germany, and keeping it divided and weak made it less likely to rise up again. Korea was like Austria in that it had no culpability for the war, but several things got in the way of an Austrian-style solution. The single most important thing to understand is that what the U.S. viewed as Soviet expansionism following WWII was in fact two separate things: 1) Stalin installed a number of puppet regimes in eastern Europe (Poland and East Germany being the purest examples), led by exiles who had no political base in those countries; 2) other countries were seized by indigenous resistance movements led by Communists (China, Yugoslavia, Albania) that allied with Stalin but weren't really controlled by him. The former were established under a "sphere of influence" concept that was largely defensive in intent -- WWII had been immensely damaging to the Soviet Union, and Stalin wanted buffers to protect Russia from a recurrence. (These spheres of influence were actually negotiated between Stalin and Churchill; one consequence of this was that the Greek resistance that had fought Hitler was crushed by the U.K./U.S.)

The U.S. soon conflated these two, and the effect of this was to expand a regional power struggle into a worldwide Cold War -- although in its initial conception there was little cold about it. The tendency of Communist parties worldwide to supplicate to Stalin and the Soviet Union made them look more united than they ever were. Conversely, as the leader of the worldwide workers' revolution, Stalin gave lip service to revolutions that he never actually supported -- and in many cases wound up sabotaging. The effect of this conflation was that the U.S. soon became the patron of anticommunist fascists and militarists and plain old crooks worldwide.

Korea differed from Austria in several critical respects. Timing mattered: by the time Japan was defeated the level of U.S./Soviet hostility in Europe was already rising, which was exploited by right-wingers in the U.S. to push an anticommunist agenda. At the time Japan surrendered Soviet forces already occupied parts of Korea, leaving them in a position to install a postwar government. (The U.S. had no troops in Korea, but nonetheless convinced the Soviets to withdraw to north of the 38th parallel, allowing the U.S. to install the dictator Syngman Rhee.) Also, Kim Il Sung had distinguished himself in Korea's resistance to Japan, which gave him an indigenous power base in Korea. The American view of Korea further degenerated as Chinese Communists under Mao Tse-Tung drove the Nationalist Chinese from the mainland, setting up the domino metaphor that so clouded U.S. thinking later, especially regarding Vietnam. Faced with perceived Soviet expansionism both in Europe and in East Asia, losing its nuclear weapons monopoly, the U.S. started leaning toward a policy of "rollback" -- viewing war with the Soviet menace as inevitable, this was the original preemptive war strategy. When war did break out in Korea -- one way to look at this is that Kim Il Sung saw the writing on the wall so he decided to preempt first -- the U.S. didn't just stop the North Korean advance; the U.S. pushed the war lines almost to the China border, prompting China's entrance into the war, and the long, ugly, vicious stalemate that followed.

The consequences of the Korean War turned out to be immense. The basic doctrine of Cold War came from the Korean stalemate. Because the U.S. viewed Korea as just one instance in a much broader struggle, the U.S. showed no willingness to move toward peace in Korea -- they figured that peace there would jeopardize U.S. interests elsewhere. The U.N. had failed to prevent or (more importantly) resolve war in Korea. the U.N. had in fact become an instrument of U.S. foreign policy, and it was never able to regain its legitimacy. Japan was soon recruited as an ally of the U.S. in the Cold War, compromising its unique pacifist status. The partitioning of Germany hardened along Cold War lines. The U.S. reversed its demilitarization, creatin a military-industrial alliance that dominates U.S. politics even today. Korea also had a critical effect on U.S. policy in the Middle East: in order to secure British support for the U.S. in Korea, the U.K. was able to get the U.S. to overthrow the government of Iran, restoring a good piece of Anglo-Persian's oil monopoly and empowering Shah Pahlavi, leading to the Iranian Revolution.

Monday, May 17, 2004

Book: Gavan McCormack: Target North Korea (Nation Books, 2004).

Since it took office, the Bush administration has worked steadily at slow roasting North Korea. They started by ditching a near agreement that promised to stabilize the region; then they released various Bush quotes about how disgusted he found Kim Jong Il, and stoked the fires further by inducting North Korea into the "Axis of Evil." The preemptive war strategy was aimed mostly at justifying war against Iraq, but North Korea felt like a target, and they responded with a series of moves that made Bush look like a hypocrite for attacking Iraq first. Possession of WMD was much more credible by North Korea than by Iraq. Moreover, North Korea had an active industry exporting weapons -- especially missiles -- whereas Iraq was building drones out of balsa wood. But Bush just cut back the heat on North Korea a bit, scheduling a series of meetings where we refused to negotiate anything, but at least that bought time while preserving the status quo. Despite all the hot talk, the status quo is pretty much all that the U.S. really wants. After all, the status quo barely costs us at all: just means we have to rattle some sabres, while North Korea sinks deeper into an economic abyss, Japan clings closely to U.S. promises of defense against the red menace, and South Korea has to make concessions to the U.S. just to keep the American wrecking ball sheathed.

The latter is the most interesting part of this dynamic: on the one hand, North Korea's real deterrent against U.S. attack doesn't have anything to do with nuclear weapons -- it's that they possess enough conventional firepower to level Seoul in a matter of minutes. Yet the majority of South Koreans fear the U.S. more than North Korea. The more democratic South Korea has become, the more it has opened up to the idea of living with and reconciling with North Korea. They are, after all, one rather tightly knit people, and the division that tore the country apart had much more to do with politics in Washington and Moscow than anything intrisic to Korea. One would think that if the U.S. had the slightest interest in regional peace we would defer to South Korea to help make this happen. But we don't defer. If anything we deliberately work to exacerbate the problem. We've contained North Korea behind crippling economic sanctions for 50 years now, leading to damage as severe as mass starvation. It shouldn't be surprising that the effect has been to make North Korea the most paranoid nation on earth, and as such one of the most dangerous.

So why do we do it? Continuing punishment for the Korean War stalemate is a possible reason, but 50 years is a long time for grudges. Perpetuation of the American military mission is a more current reason: North Korea is, after all, the sort of nasty threat that fuels our need for an insane defense posture. More pertinent is the effect is has on our ability to control Japan. Japan has its own longstanding grudges with Korea (South as well as North), and we've been able to push Japan's buttons by manipulating the North Korea threat. One of the big puzzles of the last 20 years has been why Japan is so subservient to U.S. imperial policy. If you go back further it makes more sense: Japan built up its economy on free trade with the U.S., and buying defense services helped to keep the free trade doors open. But as Japan became more powerful in the '80s they had less reason to do so; in the '90s, the collapse of the Soviet Union removed a big excuse, and economic doldrums cut back on Japan's capacity for largesse. Modern Japan was conceived of as a pacifist state, and that unique standing could have given Japan a unique role and status in the post-Cold War world. Yet it doesn't seem like Japan ever considered the prospect. As the U.S. redeployed its war machine against new enemies -- rogue states, drug smugglers, and now terrorists -- Japan just tagged along. I don't understand Japanese politics, and I don't have a clue why things happened this way, but I find it really hard to believe that Japan fears North Korea so much that it willingly submits to U.S. military domination. That just doesn't make sense.

These are just a few of the thoughts that come from reading Gavan McCormack's immensely useful book. There is much more detail on the culture and ideology of North Korea, including a strong argument that its leadership cult resembles Imperial Japan much more than any Communist political system. There's also a basic but very useful chapter on the Korean War, which leaves no side looking the least bit pretty. The story of Syngman Rhee, in particular, reminds us that whatever it was that the U.S. was fighting for in Korea it wasn't freedom, equality, or justice. Both sides committed atrocities, but it cannot be denied that what "our" side did was extraordinarily vile. Nor that the negotiations leading to the armistice were unnecessarily protracted, resulting in many more casualties. Nor that "our" unwillingness to turn the armistice into a secure peace treaty has caused further suffering on a huge scale.

One more thought I have is that if the U.S. has been so callous and so indifferent, indeed downright opposed, to peace in Korea, why should we think that U.S. policy regarding Israel has been any better? The results, including staggering human costs that have been stretched over half a century, are much the same.

I haven't had much to say about the torture scandals at Abu Ghraib, mostly because that's the sort of thing that I expect from the U.S. military and intelligence outfits. That sort of thing has happened in one form or another throughout the recorded history of war, which is one of many reasons to stop going to war. What did surprise me a bit was how strongly the upper echelons came out condemning the acts (if only the ones that had been disclosed). The normal reaction among such people is to deny and cover up -- while someone high up might have recalled that it was the cover up and not the scandal that sunk the Nixon regime, the Bush people have rarely if ever displayed anything remotely resembling alacrity. I wondered whether this sudden drift of the administration toward acknowledging its crimes was part of a broader shift toward exit, as full disclosure of these crimes makes the U.S. occupation of Iraq all the more untenable.

Since then, the picture has been getting both clearer and muddier. It is clear that Abu Ghraib is not an isolated case: we're seeing reports of similar crimes in Afghanistan and Guantanamo and all over Iraq, and much of this has been linked back to CIA interrogation policies going back to '50s and taught to many generation of School of the Americas graduates. Moreover, it's also clearly linked to political policies announced by at least as high up as Rumsfeld. But that doesn't mean that the buck is going to stop where Harry Truman said it must stop. Today's paper headline is "Top officials deny role in Iraqi abuse." So the denial has started to set back in, and with it deliberate efforts to muddy as much water as possible. The predictable bottom-up defense is that we were following orders. The predicatable top-down defense is more like we didn't realize that we had given exactly those orders, and in any case that's not what we meant. Meanwhile, the right wing hate machine is gearing up to defend every atrocity, and in the usual symbiotic alliance Al Qaeda has helped them out with videos of their own.

Anyone surprised by all this was just being naive. In civil life we develop norms of behavior that keep almost everyone civil, but those norms are inevitably suspended by war. After all, once killing is permissible, once it's reinforced by one's social order as the correct thing to do, what difference does a little rape and torture make? You'd think that the very word "war," which merges all of these evils into one discrete noun, would be enough to make us cringe. But we live in a country that celebrates war and warriors, and that normally refuses to look at or consider the consequences. Abu Ghraib may have briefly opened some eyes, but the inevitable fruits of this war have been all around us since the very start. And that's due not merely to the errant soldiers or their deluded leaders, but to the very nature of their mission.

Sunday, May 16, 2004

• Rabih Abou-Khalil: Morton's Foot (Enja/Justin Time). The Lebanese oud master's many albums are rooted in the improvisational tradition of Arab music, but vary according to the jazz musicians he works with. The more traditional Tarab, with Selim Kusur's nay in the lead, and the more modern Blue Camel, with Charlie Mariano's vibrant alto sax, indicate his range. This mostly Italian band adds to his depth: with accordion, tuba and clarinet it sounds gypsy (in the original sense of the word, as opposed to ethnic roma), while Gavino Murgia's vibrating bass vocals (evidently a farmous Sardinian tradition) reminded me first of doo wop. One more note: his records have long been famous for their distinctive packaging, a cardboard flip-open with glued tray, but with lovely metal foil embossed designs. This one has changed to a trifold with just a slit for the CD, which makes it feel less substantial (although the foil is still used). A-
• The Bad Plus: Give (2004, Columbia). Everything you read about them is true, more or less. They're an acoustic jazz piano trio, but amplifiers give them all the volume they want, and they can amplify themselves by playing together, as they usually do. Their hard rock covers are a commercial gimmick, but they also like them because they are built to flex muscle, and because improvising on pop hits is as old as Charlie Parker. They're the next big thing in jazz, but anything in jazz that looks outward and gets noticed looks big. This album is even denser, deeper, brighter, and more complex than the first two. All true, more or less. A-
• Terence Blanchard: The Billie Holiday Songbook (1993 [1994], Columbia). Ugh! Strings! I bought this thinking it might provide a point of comparison to James Carter's Gardenias for Lady Day, but the first aperçu seems to be that maybe Columbia writes the requirement for a Holiday tribute into their standard jazz contract. The strings are not credited, at least on the back cover. Five cuts have vocals by Jeanie Bryson, who isn't the second coming of Billie Holiday, but she's an agreeable enough fill-in -- sort of has the small voice, but she's sweeter, and of course doesn't have the heavy phrasing (who else does?). Unlike Carter's record, this one at least sticks to the songbook. Like Carter's record, that includes "Strange Fruit" -- done dirgelike with mostly spoken vocal. Blanchard is a fine trumpeter, and his arranging skills are normally superb. But I really don't get why otherwise intelligent people insist on doing her up in strings. Unless I missed something, Holiday's only association with strings was the embalming job of Lady in Satin, a really terrible album. B-
• The British Invasion 1963-1967 (1961-67 [2004] Hip-O, 3CD). Done a lot of research on this scattered elsewhere, and wrote two other notes. For the record, the Beatles thing was cut in 1961 and released in 1964. The booklet mostly cites UK charting dates, because 12 of these 54 songs didn't chart in the U.S. That's also why the start date is 1963 instead of 1964, when the British Invasion actually invaded. I tried to track down as much chart info as possible (see link). I couldn't find any Brits charting U.S. singles in 1963 ("Telstar" hit in December 1962, so it was on the charts into March or so, 1963, but that's the last one I found before you-know-who's "I Want to Hold Your Hand"). In 1964 I count 46 Brit singles in the U.S. top 20, which is about as dramatic a shift as you can find. The number goes up to around 50 in 1965, then declines back toward 40 in 1967, and presumably continues to decline until Oasis can't buy a U.S. hit, but that's SFFR. I've said many times that the important thing about the '60s British rock bands is how they worked to reacquaint American rockers with important American pre-rock music (especially blues), and that's true. Another important thing is that it really opened the door for a transatlantic dialogue which at least one more time (punk) kicked U.S. rock up a notch and many times added to the music. However, for those who lived through it the real impact of the British Invasion was evident in most of all in its trash. This comp has next to nothing of the major UK bands of the period (two klassic Kinks cuts, one Zombies, three from the Who, who for U.S. purposes really came later). It also misses important founts of trash: most importantly the Dave Clark Five and Herman's Hermits. The occasional trivia is exceptionally bad, and the 1967 material that fills out the third disc is ultra-lame -- bad psychedelia, artrock moves (the great "A Whiter Shade of Pale," but also the Moody Blues, bad Traffic, two Cat Stevens cuts. Nobody's ever made a good British Invasion comp, and this is no exception. B
• James Carter: Live at Baker's Keyboard Lounge (2001 [2004], Warner Brothers). Cut in Detroit on a night meant to celebrate four generations of Detroit saxophonists, this is basically a good natured free for all -- which after the crass deliberation of Carter's Gardenias for Lady Day is very welcome relief. Franz Jackson is the oldest, and he sings (a bluesy "I Can't Get Started") as well as plays; then comes Johnny Griffin and David Murray. Griffin barely gets a toot in edgewise; Murray is more voluble and impressive. And, of course, Carter is overwhelming. A-
• Marilyn Crispell: Contrasts: Live at Yoshi's 27 June 1995 (1995 [1996], Music & Arts). Solo piano, highly touted in the Penguin Guide: "The Yoshi's gig from the club in Oakland is interesting in being more obviously jazz-based than anything she has released in recent years. That bill Evans remains a constant presence, perhaps more important to her now than either coltrane or Braxton were in past years, seems obvious. That she has assimilated his work and taken it on a step is equally clear. What is intriguing about numbers like "Flutter" and "Ruthie's Song" is how straightforward and full-hearted they seem. Gone for the time being at least are the dense, dark washes and the battering-ram tonality. Crispell has found the courage to be simple, and it becomes her wonderfully well." The following year she started recording for ECM, where simple is a watchword. Here she does an Annette Peacock piece (anticipating her first ECM), two Evans pieces, one by Mark Helias, and "The Night Has a Thousand Eyes," as well as her own work. A-
• Cursor Miner Plays God (2004, Lo). Electro beats. English accent. Don't know where this came from, or why I got it, but the lead cut, "War Machine," grabbed me instantly -- reminds me a bit of OMD's "Electricity." Of course, that level isn't sustained, but song #5, electronica that actually swings, has a treated comic voice and is called "I Want to Be a Foetus" -- talk about sub-juvenile. "Me and My Clone" sustains the joke. The wit gets a bit carried away toward the end, with a set of distorted instrumentals that sometimes sound like your stereo gear is melting into an ugly blob. But this record is one pretty brilliant surprise. A-
• The Best of Wayne Fontana & the Minebenders (The Millennium Collection) (1965-68 [2004], Mercury). That should be "and/or," with 3 songs here attributed to all, 7 just to the Mindbenders, and 1 to Fontana. Graham Gouldman (of "Bus Stop" and 10cc fame) wrote the last two songs, and played on one. They had two hits ("Game of Love" with Fontana; "A Groovy Kind of Love" without), the former hard junk, the latter slick candy. The only other item here that catches the ear is Gouldman's "Schoolgirl," which is well on its way to 10cc la-la land. B-
• The Hip Hop Box (1979-2003 [2004], Hip-O, 4CD). A-
• The Jones Brothers: Keepin' Up With the Joneses (1958 [1999], Verve). The Jones Brothers are Hank, Thad, and Elvin. Each is a major figure in postwar jazz. The band is filled out with Eddie Jones, not a brother but at least a Jones, on bass. The album cover proclaims "playing the music of Thad Jones and Isham Jones." Isham is another non-brother brought in by the all-Jones concept. He played tenor sax, composed, and led an orchestra that was taken over by Woody Herman. When this was cut Elvin was 21, not the major figure he soon became. (I'm writing this a couple of days after he died, at which point it's safe to say that he was one of the all-time greats.) Hank and Thad are both prominent here, but Thad's somewhat fragile tone and idiosyncratic play makes the strongest impression. Some lovely work here. B+
• Loretta Lynn: Van Lear Rose (2004, Interscope). The last of her A+ rated 20 Greatest Hits was cut in 1981; the last of her A- rated box set came out in 1988. She's a bit short of 70 now, so anything notable runs the risk of being dubbed a comeback. And now she's been adopted by Mr. Jack White Stripes and run through his hype machine. Unlike Rick Rubin-era Johnny Cash, she still writes her own songs, and doesn't depend on her bare voice to put them across -- although one suspects that when White wanders off Rubin could do worse than to move in. The songs are nothing special, but the cheatin' (or, more explicitly, cheated on) songs have some spine, and the self-explanatory "Story of My Life" is fine. But the difference here is that White deploys a vastly varied musical palette, unlike anything ever heard in Nashville. "High on a Mountain Top" is the bluegrass move, while "This Old House" and others are wrapped in steel guitar, but other songs flash rock moves, and "Have Mercy" doesn't have much else. Nor are the rock moves all the same -- some crunched chords, some stretched out guitar. "Miss Being Mrs." is just done over sharply stung acoustic guitar. "Little Red Shoes" sounds like a spoken tape, Lynn telling a rushed, slightly confused story, with White sprucing it up with flaring little guitar lines. Unless "God Makes No Mistakes" is meant to be ironical (and you can't prove that by me) it's self-contradictory. The maudlin "Women's Prison" has nothing to do with anything so mundane as prison: it's a cheatin', killin', death row thing, sure to show up on Vol. 4 of The Executioner's Last Songs. Anything you're likely to read about this is likely to be swathed in hyperbole, but the bottom line is that she's a legend, he's a smartass, and this is the novelty album of the year. Best thing here is "Mrs. Leroy Brown," an outrageous rockin' cheatin' bloody revenge song. Weighs in around 39 minutes -- it's so over the top we're lucky they knew when to quit.