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|
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
NME's year-end lists for 2003:
Albums:
- The White Stripes: Elephant
- The Rapture: Echoes
- The Strokes: Room on Fire
- Elbow: Cast of Thousands
- Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell
- Rufus Wainwright: Want One
- Kings of Leon: Youth & Young Manhood
- OutKast: Speakerboxx/The Love Below
- Radiohead: Hail to the Thief
- My Morning Jacket: It Still Moves
- Evan Dando: Baby I'm Bored
- The Coral: Magic and Medicine
- Spiritualized: Amazing Grace
- The Distillers: Coral Fang
- Hot Hot Heat: Make Up the Breakdown
- Dizzee Rascal: Boy in Da Corner
- Funeral for a Friend: Casually Dressed and Deep in Conversation
- The Sleepy Jackson: Lovers
- Muse: Absolution
- Jet: Get Born
- Blur: Think Tank
- The Hidden Cameras: The Smell of Our Own
- The Cooper Temple Clause: Kick Up the Fire, and Let the Flames Break Loose
- Four Tet: Rounds
- The Darkness: Permission to Land
- The Kills: Keep on Your Mean Side
- Super Furry Animals: Phantom Power
- The Mars Volta: De-Loused in the Comatorium
- Peaches: Fatherfucker
- Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: Take Them On, On Your Own
- 50 Cent: Get Rich or Die Tryin'
- The Thrills: So Much for the City
- Mogwai: Happy Songs for Happy People
- Jay-Z: The Black Album
- Nick Cave: Nocturama
- British Sea Power: The Decline of British Sea Power
- Bonnie 'Prince' Billy: Master and Everyone
- 22-20s: 05/03
- Patrick Wolf: Lycanthropy
- Devendra Banhart: Oh Me Oh My . . . The Way the Day Goes By the Sun Is Setting Dogs Are Draming Lovesongs of the Christmas Spirit
- Soledad Brothers: Voice of Treason
- Stellastarr*: Stellastarr*
- Ten Grand: This Is the Way to Rule
- Basement Jaxx: Kish Kash
- Cat Power: You Are Free
- The Raveonettes: Chain Gang of Love
- Canyon: Empty Rooms
- Jane's Addiction: Strays
- The Duke Spirit: Roll, Spirit, Roll
- Starsailor: Silence Is Easy
Reissues:
- Television: Marquee Moon
- Neil Young: On the Beach
- Jeff Buckley: Live at Sin-E
- Gene Clark: No Other
- The Beatles: Let It Be . . . Naked
Compilations:
- Johnny Cash: Unearthed
- Channel 2
- Sex: Too Fast to Live, Too Young to Die
- Dexys Midnight Runners: Let's Make This Precious
- Sympathetic Sounds of London
Here's amazon.com's Top 100 Editors' Picks:
- OutKast: Speakerboxx/The Love Below
- The Shins: Chutes Too Narrow
- White Stripes: Elephant
- The Postal Service: Give Up
- New Pornographers: Electric Version
- Damien Rice: O
- The Thrills: So Much for the City *
- Rufus Wainwright: Want One (DreamWorks)
- Visqueen: King Me *
- Drive By Truckers: Decoration Day
- Michael Franti and Spearhead: Everyone Deserves Music *
- The Delgados: Hate *
- Kings of Leon: Youth & Young Manhood
- My Morning Jacket: It Still Moves *
- The Strokes: Room on Fire
- Vic Chesnutt: Silver Lake *
- Gillian Welch: Soul Journey
- The Jayhawks: Rainy Day Music
- Josh Rouse: 1972 *
- The Decembrists: Her Majesty the Decembrists *
- June Carter Cash: Wildwood Flower
- Radiohead: Hail to the Thief
- Super Furry Animals: Phantom Power *
- Belle & Sebastian: Dear Catastrophe Waitress *
- Ted Leo & the Pharmacists: Hearts of Oak
- Jet: Get Bom *
- Kathleen Edwards: Failer
- Beulah: Yoko *
- The Sleepy Jackson: Lovers
- The Chieftains: Further Down the Old Plank Road *
- Stellastarr: Stellastarr *
- Grandaddy: Sumday
- Long Winters: When I Pretend to Fall *
- The Libertines: Up the Bracket
- Cat Power: You Are Free
- Go Betweens: Bright Yellow Bright Orange
- Metric: Old World Underground, Where Are You Now? *
- Roswell Rudd/Toumani Diabate: Malicool
- Cafe Tacuba: Cuatro Caminos *
- Richard Thompson: The Old Kit Bag *
- Fountains of Wayne: Welcome Interstate Managers
- Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros: Streetcore *
- Paul Westerberg: Come Feel Me Tremble *
- Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell
- The Dandy Warhols: Welcome to the Monkey House
- Minus 5: Down With Wilco *
- Mars Volta: De-Loused in the Comatorium
- Godsmack: Faceless *
- Murray Perahia: Schubert: Piano Sonatas, D958, 959, 960 *
- Thermals: More Parts Per Million *
- Caesars: 39 Minutes of Bliss (in an Otherwise Meaningless World)
- The Be Good Tanyas: Chinatown *
- Okkervil River: Down the River of Golden Dreams *
- Divorce: There Will Be Blood Tonight *
- Ballboy: Guide for the Daylight Hours *
- Pretty Girls Make Graves: New Romance
- Cecilia Bartoli: The Salieri Album *
- A Perfect Circle: Thirteenth Step *
- Staind: 14 Shades of Grey *
- Dar Williams: The Beauty of the Rain *
- The Decemberists: Castaways & Cutouts *
- Leos Janacek, et al.: Jenufa: Complete Opera *
- Bob Marley & the Wailers: Live at the Roxy
- Idlewild: Remote Part *
- Otis Taylor: Truth Is Not Fiction *
- Johann Sebastian Bach (composer), et al.: Bach Concertos *
- Krishna Das: Door of Faith *
- 50 Cent: Get Rich or Die Tryin'
- Juana Molina: Segundo
- Shelby Lynne: Identity Crisis *
- The Bad Plus: These Are the Vistas
- Lucinda Williams: World Without Tears
- Jane's Addiction: Strays *
- A Mighty Wind: The Album *
- Kinky: Atlas *
- DMX: Grand Champ *
- Kid Koala: Some of My Best Friends Are DJ's
- Brad Paisley: Mud on the Tires *
- Cody Chesnutt: The Headphone Masterpiece
- Jesse Malin: The Fine Art of Self Destruction
- Johnny Lang: Long Time Coming *
- Arvo Part: Passio *
- Joss Stone: Soul Sessions *
- Nappy Roots: Wooden Leather *
- Dashboard Confessional: A Mark, a Mission, a Brand, a Scar
- Bembeya Jazz National: Bembeya *
- Buddy Guy: Blues Singer *
- Caitlin Cary: I'm Starving Out *
- Matt Munisteri & Brock Mumford: Love Story *
- Warren Zevon: The Wind
- Evan Dando: Baby I'm Bored *
- George Frideric Handel (composer), et al.: Handel - Rinaldo/Jacobs *
- Emmylou Harris: Stumble Into Grace
- Fire Theft: Fire Theft *
- David Dondero: Transient *
- Al Green: I Can't Stop
- Dan Zanes and Friends: House Party *
- Consonant: Love & Affliction *
- Pernice Brothers: Yours Mine & Ours *
- Gotan Project: La Revancha del Tango
Monday, December 29, 2003
New York Times year-end lists for 2003.
Jon Pareles:
- Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell
- OutKast: Speakerboxx/The Love Below
- Radiohead: Hail to the Thief
- Annie Lennox: Bare
- Warren Zevon: The Wind
- Cabas: Contacto
- Fountains of Wayne: Welcome Interstate Managers
- Alicia Keys: The Diary of Alicia Keys
- Mars Volta: De-Loused in the Comatorium
- Missy Elliott: This Is Not a Test!
Neil Strauss:
- OutKast: Speakerboxx/The Love Below
- The Thrills: So Much for the City
- Johnny Cash: Unearthed
- R. Kelly: Chocolate Factory
- The Postal Service: Give Up
- The Sleepy Jackson: Lovers
- Otis Taylor: Truth Is Not Fiction
- Basement Jaxx: Kish Kash
- Oi Va Voi: Laughter Through Tears
- AFI: Sing the Sorrow
Kelefa Sanneh:
- R. Kelly: Chocolate Factory
- Dizzee Rascal: Boy in Da Corner
- Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell
- 50 Cent: Get Rich or Die Tryin'
- Brand New: Deja Entendu
- Death Cab for Cutie: Transatlanticism
- Coheed and Cambria: In Keeping Secrets of the Silent Earth: 3
- Blur: Think Tank
- Hollertronix: Never Scared
- David Banner: MTA 2: Baptized in Dirty Water
Ben Ratliff:
- Bebo Valdes and Diego El Cigala: Lacrimas Negras
- Wayne Shorter: Alegria
- Anthony Hamilton: Comin' From Where I'm From
- White Stripes: Elephant
- R. Kelly: Chocolate Factory
- Missy Elliott: This Is Not a Test!
- Café Tacuba: Cuatro Caminos
- The Bad Plus: These Are the Vistas
- El Gran Silencio: Superriddim Internacional Vol. 1
- Miroslav Vitous: Universal Syncopations
Sunday, December 28, 2003
Music: Initial count 8730 rated (+9), 930 unrated (unchanged). More
year-end mop-up: the "good progress" claimed last week came to a halt
over the holidays, capped by two big meals I cooked this weekend. The
visitors are starting to wander off, so I expect to get back to work
this week.
- The Bad Plus (2000, Fresh Sound New Talent). The
first album by this group, although the principals had played together
for most of their short careers. They became news in early 2003 when
Columbia released These Are the Vistas, reprising their take
on "Smells Like Teen Spirit" from this album. Two other covers here:
Abba's "Knowing Me Knowing You" and Rodgers & Hart's "Blue Moon."
Both build on their well-known melodies, but the take on "Blue Moon"
is far more radical. Reid Anderson and Ethan Iverson contribute two
originals each, and Dave King one. King's piece is a heavy, repetitive
rhythm beat out on Iverson's left hand, which overcomes its purposive
clunkiness. A-
- The Bottle Rockets: Blue Sky (2003, Sanctuary). This
seems like their most countryish album to date -- loose in all the right
places. A-
- James Carter: Gardenias for Lady Day (2003, Columbia).
Sure, he's sold out. Got a new big label contract. Got a quartet going
that is much more mainstream than his Detroit homeboys were. Absolutely
top drawer talent, too: John Hicks (piano), Peter Washington (bass),
Victor Lewis (drums). Got a buttload of strings. Got a singer, Miche
Braden, for two songs.
"Gloria" (a Don Byas piece, from 1946; hard to tell when Holiday did
this; thick with strings);
"Sunset" (a Cab Calloway piece, from 1940; AMG doesn't show Holiday as
having done this; even thicker with strings, which work a bit better
here due to the slightly latino rhythm);
"(I Wonder) Where Our Love Has Gone" (credited to B. Johnson, which would
appear to be Buddy [as opposed to Budd], who first recorded it in the
early '40s; it shows up on a 1944 Holiday comp; more strings, some
major league tenor sax);
"I'm in a Low Down Groove" (credited to R. Jacobs; Holiday did this in
1940; finally, no strings, just the quartet, including some room for
Hicks);
"Strange Fruit" (an emblematic but very atypical song for Holiday, more
of a political message than a song; starts to set up a melodramatic
mood, with strings, bass trombone, and wind machine building to a
nasty crescendo over Braden's vocal; the stop is effective);
"A Flower Is a Lovesome Thing" (Billy Strayhorn's pretentious little
piece, long a showcase for Johnny Hodges; no record of Holiday ever
doing it; Carter plays it on baritone, with strings, two french
horns, and vibes; I find myself watching the clock, waiting for
its 5:53 to end);
"Indian Summer" (credited to V. Herbert; a standard that's been recorded
hundreds of times, but for Carter is associated with Coleman Hawkins;
don't know whether Holiday ever played it; Carter takes it on soprano,
but the strings predominate; there is a long stretch where Carter lays
out, giving Hicks some space; Carter returns for a stretch, then they
kick the tempo up, which has the virtue of losing the strings; but
when they slow down a bit toward the end, the strings return);
"More Than You Know" (a well-worn standard, recorded so often that AMG
only lists versions down to Tommy Dorsey, but includes a dozen or more
Mildred Bailey records; just the quartet, with Carter on baritone, and
Braden taking the vocal -- including a very un-Holiday scat).
No info on Braden in AMG, but a google search turns up a news article
headed "Miche Braden of East Orange, NJ Crowned Winner of Washington
Mutual's Big Shot Talent Contest at Richard Rogers Theater." Another
article has her starring in a 2001 off-Broadway play based on Bessie
Smith, called "The Devil's Music." I don't doubt but that she deserved
to win that talent contest, nor that she can sing Bessie good enough
for the stage, but I don't see her as anything special, and she's way
out of her league here.
I'll be writing more about this record later -- for now I just want to
peg it roughly for year-end purposes. Carter is a brilliant performer,
a guy who is both humbled by the weight and beauty of the history that
he has studied, yet who is so convinced by his own talent that he
intends to leave his mark all over it. I think that his intent here
is to take off from and modernize Holiday much the way he did Django
in Chasin' the Gypsy, although perhaps in the back of his mind
he also wants to add another chapter to The Real Quiestorm. I
think this record fails in both regards. You might counter that it
fails only in terms of its titanic ambitions, but I would counter
that its titanic ambitions are its failure. I've suspected
for a long time that Carter has been spreading himself too thick --
that he should get out and record more. His first four records came
in a three year stretch. After that he took two years to do In
Carterian Style, two more to double up with Chasin' the Gypsy
and Layin' in the Cut, and now three for this one. That's
especially sparse when you consider how many different saxes Carter
plays -- even though he plays soprano (a notoriously difficult horn)
like a master he barely averages 1 cut per year on it.
B+
- Cooper-Moore, Tom Abbs, Chad Taylor: Triptych Myth
(2003, Hopscotch). The reclusive pianist -- word was out a while back
that he would only play with William Parker, which I suppose could
also be interpreted as spoiled -- seems to have come out of his shell.
Finally, this year we have a solo album I haven't heard yet, this trio,
and a duo with Assif Tsahar. Don't know the bassist or drummer here,
although the drummer's name sort of rings a bell. Only way I'm going
to straighten this out will be to pick it apart cut by cut:
"Stem Cell" (full trio, full blast; Cooper-Moore's piano cascades over
the splayed, unphased rhythms of bass and drums);
"Nautilus" (relatively quiet, mostly piano in little fragments and
filligree, with a hint of cymbal for color);
"The Fox" (ah, a melody! rhythm too, terrific piece);
"Stop Time #1" (on paper this is only 0:51, but it goes on further --
back into fully engaged avant-garde mode; reminds me a bit of Horace
Tapscott);
"Ricochet" (the overflow from the previous; I didn't notice this
actually happening, but the sleeve calls for 5:24);
"Harare" (percussion solo, sounds like muted vibes in repetitive rhythm,
with drum overlays);
"Stop Time #2" (abstract piano break);
"Raising Knox" (bass solo, at 6:14 a bit on the long side, but not without
interest);
"Spatter Matter" ();
"Stop Time #3" ();
"Spencer's Eyes" ();
"Susan" (again, this is based on a rhythmic piano figure).
A-
- Cooper-Moore, Assif Tsahar: America (2003, Hopscotch).
This one has very little piano: Cooper-Moore plays banjo, diddley-bo,
mouth bow, drums, and sings the title song, which nails America for
its legacy of slavery and racism, and vows "we're gonna put you on
the homebound train" -- a remarkable piece. Tsahar plays reeds and
a little guitar, mostly for atmosphere. The banjo and bass clarinet
"Back Porch Chill" is perfectly named. The drum skins and tenor sax
"No Cracklin No Bread" is a lovely setup for Tsahar. The rest is a
mixed bag, which happens when such talents experiment. B+
- Electric Six: Fire (2003, XL). This is crap, but
sometimes it's great crap -- "She's White" is as hilarious as anything
I've heard all year, (falsetto chorus: "she couldn't be whiter").
They're so full of dancefloor cliches that the bass player is named
Disco, but they're a rock band of surpassing simplicity -- they
sound just barely post-punk, like the Dictators might've had they
boned up on KMFDM. A-
- Fountains of Wayne: Welcome Interstate Managers
(2003, S-Curve/Virgin). Named after NJ's tackiest statuary shop, I
found them moderately hooky but ultimately boring the one time I
saw them live (c. 1996, when they released their first album), and
I've resisted reports of their progress ever since. This is their
third album -- reportedly their best. I can believe it, even though
they often sound derivative: their "Bright Future in Sales" is an
inferior retread of Timbuk 3's "My Future's So Bright (I Got to Wear
Shades)," but the difference is that they don't really believe in
such a bright future; "Stacy's Mom" is a cliche I can believe; and
when you think they're hung up on becoming New York's answer to the
Undertones, they evoke Gram Parson on "Hung Up on You" and the Everly
Brothers on "Halley's Waitress." "Little Red Light" may be the best
song yet about being stuck in traffic. "Peace and Love" is trite, but
on purpose. "Brought for a Song" seems to be their true sound. Guess
they're not boring, but the bar I heard them in was. A-
- Michael Hashim: Green Up Time (2001, Hep). Hashim
is the best songbook musician in jazz. His previous excursions into
Billy Strayhorn and Fats Waller were not just worthy -- they were
flat out brilliant. I've been trying to get my hands on this one,
his take on Kurt Weill, for several years now, and I can't say that
it's been worth the weight -- what I'd rather say is that I could
kick myself for not breaking the bank and getting it sooner. Hashim
plays soprano saxophone on two tracks, alto on the rest. He's always
been an amazingly fluid player, with a keen sense of rhythm and
gorgeous tone. Here he teems up with Kenny Washington (drums) and
Dennis Irwin (bass), with additional musicians coming and going --
never missed, always welcome. The latter include Will Holshouser
on accordion (5 tracks), Eddy Davis on banjo and mandolin (5 tracks),
the Axis String Quartet (5 tracks), and Wayne Barker (piano, one
track). The strings are deployed where they're most welcome -- e.g.,
on "Tango Ballad." They're never soupy or merely pretty -- they
carry their weight. The songs are smartly arranged with the more
obscure ones up front and the unmistakable ones closing out --
they last two are "September Song" and "Alabama Song," and they've
never sounded richer or more profound. Four pieces from "Threepenny
Opera," none of which are "Mack the Knife" -- although "Love Song"
sets the mood. A
- Kelis: Tasty (2003, Star Trak/Arista). The first
three songs are the freshest, brightest opening hand I've heard since
Stankonia: "Trick Me" is even a song, with a message even;
"Milkshake" isn't, it's just a fuzz confection; "Keep It Down" splits
the difference, with a twist in the music which hooks you where you
least expect it. Then it gets better, with her cooing "let's get it
on in public" over a spartan fuzz beat, with a Nas rap for a break.
Then you get two more pieces of Neptunes ear candy, then Andre 3000's
silly "Millionaire," Raphael Saadiq's "Glow," more Neptunes, more
Saadiq. Finally, she thanks "the Lord for putting all the right people
in my life." She's right that the right people make it happen. But
give her credit for not oversinging -- the last thing this hippie-hop
needs is a diva.
A
- Chris Knight: The Jealous Kind (2003, Dualtone).
Actually, the title song goes "but then again, I've never been the
jealous kind." It's as great a song as the title song on his last
one, A Pretty Good Guy. Another great song is "A Train Not
Running" -- the train is one that used to haul coal, which counted
for jobs. A-
- Jesse Malin: The Fine Art of Self-Destruction (2003,
Artemis). One correspondent called this "Ryan Adams with songs" -- a
reference to the producer. I've never noticed Adams' songs closely
enough to judge, but I note two other differences: 1) Malin has a
thick, mealy voice, much more constrained and emotional than Adams'
finer-grained, more plastic voice -- offhand, Malin sounds quite a
bit like Bruce Springsteen, shorn of whatever it is (resonance?)
that makes Springsteen instantly recognizable; 2) Malin rocks a lot
harder. This drags on the ballads, where Malin frequently trips up
on his couplets. But the fast ones have an agreeably non-specific
rock crunch, and I like this best when he doesn't sing. B+
- NOFX: War on Errorism (2003, Fat Wreck Chords).
I've heard plenty of punk rock like this before, but the intro about
how the kids want to go to the punk rock show is welcome. And the
lyrics put their politics on the line. "There's no point for
democracy when ignorance is celebrated . . . the idiots are takin'
over." Best song here: "Anarchy Jam." Lots of good ones. Probably
the best white rock band album I've heard all year. (Well, maybe
not better than the Drive-By Truckers, but better than Rancid.)
A-
- Leo Parker: Let Me Tell You 'Bout It (1961 [1990],
Blue Note). Parker was a baritone saxophonist who came up through
Billy Eckstine's transitional bebop band. But he also dabbled in
jump blues, and counts Illinois Jacquet as an influence. His late
'40s recordings have started to surface in European comps. Aside
from that, the only records in his name seem to be two 1961 dates
for Blue Note, cut just before he died at age 37. This is the first
one, cut with a sextet including no one else I've heard of: John
burks (trumpet), Bill Swindell (tenor sax), Yusef Salim (piano),
Stan Conover (bass), Purnell Rice (drums). Perhaps it is the case
that the bebop and jump blues cancel each other out, leaving this
as a typical period mainstream work: it jumps and bops, but mostly
it swings. Good, solid work. B+
- Sam Rivers: Fuchsia Swing Song (1964 [2003], Blue Note).
This was Rivers' first album, which I suppose helps explain why is is
relatively straightforward. Little of his early Blue Note work is in
print these days -- one called Dimensions and Extensions has
been available, but is out of print now. Rivers was actually in his
40s when he cut this (although reports of his age at the time were
that he was younger). A
- The Wrens: The Meadowlands (2003, Absolutely Kosher).
Christgau singled this one out in his alt-rock column, as "a real winner
and a magnum opus." Tatum referred to it as "the best rock album I've
heard in months." Given that they hail from NJ, most critics see links
to the Pixies and Pavement, but they sound like Coldplay to me. Pretty
good Coldplay -- fancier, far more diverse than the original. One cut
that goes beyond formula (or beneath) is "Per Second Second," which is
a fuzz guitar beat thing with no meat on the bones at all. It appeals
to me because it's simple; most of this is anything but. I'm impressed,
but I'm also perplexed and annoyed. B+
- Neil Young & Crazy Horse: Greendale (2003,
Reprise). Seems to be one of those albums which reminds you how much
you like Neil Young without engendering any specific affection for
this particular album. It does, after all, sound so perfectly Neil
Young. B+
Sunday, December 21, 2003
Music: Initial count 8721 rated (+24), 930 unrated (-16). Doing year-end
mop-up, and making good progress on that.
- Mark Dresser: Force Green (1994, Soul Note). This
is a moody thing, its darkly European artsong flavor typified by the
piece called "Bosnia," which develops a compelling level of grief.
The oddest thing here is vocalist Theo Bleckmann, who scats like a
spare horn -- disorienting at first, annoying in the long run. The
first horn is Dave Douglas, best heard on "For Miles" -- Douglas too
has a weakness for artsong, which perhaps is part of the reason he
fails to freshen up the joint. Penguin Guide has this as a 4-star,
which no doubt means that there is more here than I've managed to
latch onto. But I dislike the vocal schtick here so much that I
doubt that I'll get to it. B-
- Al Green: I Can't Stop (2003, Blue Note). I remember,
back when Have a Good Time came out, hearing the record playing
at E.J. Korvettes in NYC, and knowing that it wouldn't be one of his
better ones, still feeling compelled to buy it. Same thing happened
one other time, with Van Morrison. Such is the power of their voices.
Green's voice held up through his long string of gospel albums, but
the will to indulge each nuanced iteration faded over time -- in no
small part because the repertoire didn't deserve him. I also missed
his last return to the secular (Your Heart's in Good Hands
and/or Don't Look Back), but I'm glad I didn't skip this one.
Five songs with the word "you" in the title seem a little deliberate,
but the songs are solid enough to support his performance, and the
performance is more spectacular than anything he's done since The
Belle Album. A-
- Wayne Hancock: Swing Time (Bloodshot). With a voice
straight out of Hank Williams, he sounds country all the way down to
the marrow in his bones. He doesn't need to start with Hank's "Lose
Your Mind" to make the point, but since when have live albums been
subtle? He heads down "Route 66" and out on "Highway 54," and trots
out gems from his own songbook like "Thunderstorms & Neon Signs"
-- the first inkling I had that I might one day move back to Kansas
was the night I got nostalgic over a rare east coast thunderstorm, so
I relate. And, it's just a live album after all, he rocks out.
Uncredited bonus of sorts: an over-the-top take on "Summertime" --
love the trombone. As good an intro (or diversion) as any. B+
- Susie Ibarra & Mark Dresser: Tone Time (2003,
Wobbly Rail). What can you do with a bass and drums duo? B
- Glenn Miller: Platinum Glenn Miller (1939-42 [2003],
Bluebird, 2CD). He's remembered as the most popular bandleader in America,
but his reign was brief -- less than four years. I have an older comp
which covers the same years, The Essential Glenn Miller (1939-42
[1995], RCA, 2CD), which I graded B-. This sounds like it should be
graded higher, so I wanted to look at the deltas. The biggest thing
is that the old one had 47 songs, whereas this is limited to 40. But
the song changes are substantial. The new one adds 13 songs:
"The Woodpecker Song,"
"Beat Me Daddy, Eight to the Bar,"
"Blue Rain,"
"Give a Little Whistle,"
"The Boogie Wooglie Piggy,"
"My Blue Heaven,"
"The Story of a Starry Night,"
"Blueberry Hill,"
"Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead,"
"Bugle Call Rag,"
"Blue Orchids,"
"I'll Never Smile Again,"
"Rhapsody in Blue."
That means 20 songs are dropped:
"Wishing (Will Make It So),"
"Sunrise Serenade,"
"Runnin' Wild,"
"My Isle of Golden Dreams,"
"Indian Summer,"
"It's a Blue World,"
"Gaucho Serenade,"
"Say 'Si Si' (Para Vigo Me Voy),"
"When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano,"
"Million Dreams Ago,"
"Yes, My Darling Daughter,"
"Anvil Chorus,"
"Perfidia,"
"I Know Why (And So Do You),"
"You and I,"
"Adios,"
"(There'll Be Bluebirds Over) The White . . . ,"
"Skylark,"
"Always in My Heart,"
"That Old Black Magic."
The obvious difference is that they added on a few songs that are better
known from subsequent rock remakes. I think Miller's legacy breaks down
into several more/less separate things: 1) his instrumental numbers had
a slick, professional, mechanical sheen to them; it's often said that
whatever kind of music Miller was doing, it wasn't jazz -- and that's
born out not only by the lack of improvisation, but by the lack of the
potential for improvisation; Miller was too tight for all that jazz;
2) his vocal number, which include half or maybe a bit more of the songs
collected here, are hopelessly dated; consequently, they break down into:
2a) things that are merely archaic, and 2b) things that are downright
campy. As time goes by, we tend to remember the great black jazz bands
of the era better than the white bands who were more popular at the
time -- Benny Goodman is merely an exception that proves the rule,
because he did have a great jazz band -- but Miller, almost alone,
seems to be able to keep gaining new fans. (Tommy Dorsey still rides
on Frank Sinatra's coattails; Woody Herman and Artie Shaw still have
jazz bona fides.) Miller's sudden, tragic death -- familiar through
the movie -- has something to do with this, but so does the music.
This was a crack big band, and Miller's legacy lived on in the big
bands that backed Sinatra in the '50s: Billy May (a Miller alumnus),
and especially Nelson Riddle. And there's the camp factor. Note that
none of these cuts feature the Andrews Sisters -- those have been
shunted off to some other compilation. B+
- La Peste (1978-79 [1996], Matador). A punk rock band
from Boston, they cut a single "Better Off Dead" in 1978 that was a
lot tougher and smarter than anything the Dead Boys ever yearned for.
I had a copy back then, and remembered it fondly enough that I picked
up this CD in a closeout sale. I don't think they ever released an LP.
To get 21 cuts here, they had to delve into various demos and live
tapes -- 15 cuts from a July 1979 appearance at the Rat. The band was
a guitar-bass-drums trio, but three cuts here have a keyboard player
added, and were produced by Ric Ocasek. Along with the single, that
makes 5 studio tracks. I've seen a review of three volumes of CDRs,
the first of which doesn't intersect with this. You'd have to be
obsessive to care, but this is actually very consistent musically.
Can't speak for the lyrics, since I didn't notice any, except for
the out about not wanting to die. But I'm not a lyrics guy anyway.
B+
- The Rough Guide to Latin Jazz (1976-2003 [2003], World
Music Network). This genre, at least, is close enough to home that we might
be able to straighten out its discography. Songs:
Mamborama, "Es Solo Musica" (2000; bright, ebullient mambo junction);
Jimmy Bosch, "Speak No Evil" (1999; trombone player, loses some volume
and vibrancy from the previous cut);
Tito Puente & His Latin Ensemble, "Spain" (1986; overly large orchestra,
music ascending to symphonic grandeur, but nothing congas can't help);
Snowboy & the Latin Section, "Puente" (2002; the British acid jazz
guy, for whom this sounds very traditional);
Mongo Santamaria, "Princess" (1976; as salsa this seems dated and dull,
but the conga solo in the middle is fine, and it's followed by some
good sax, so it's mostly the section horns that I don't care for);
Roland Vazquez, "Palladium" (1988; he's a drummer, and that seems to
be the strong suit here; it certainly isn't the horn section work);
Havana Flute Summit, "Maraca's Tumbao" (1996; this is a Jane Bunnett
project, working with three Cuban flutists and percussion; on top of
this rhythm the tweety wind instruments are diverting, and the lack
of brass is a temporary relief);
William Cepeda Afrorican Jazz, "Ponte Pa'L Monte" (1998; a Puerto Rican
trombonist);
Eddie Palmieri, "Our Routine" (2002; one of the most consistent artists
in the genre, and this is a group where everyone excels; presumably
the trumpet here is Brian Lynch, a highlight);
Poncho Sanchez, "Joseito" (2000; the leader plays congas, but the most
distinctive sound here is the organ -- don't know who plays that;
some good sax too);
Manny Oquendo's Libre, "Little Sunflower" (1983; Oquendo plays timbales,
Andy Gonzalez plays bass; this develops a very nice undestated groove);
Michael Philip Mossman, "The Guardian of the Crossroads" (2003; a trumpet
player with a background that includes Lionel Hampton, Art Blakey,
Roscoe Mitchell, and Anthony Braxton, as well as Machito, Mario
Bauza, and Eddie Palmieri).
Seems like a solid, attractive introduction, although I can think of
other examples -- especially Cuban -- that might hold up better. The
usual problems with the documentation persist. B+
- The Rough Guide to the Music of Turkey ([2003],
World Music Network). Another solid, attractive introduction. Another
puzzle where it all comes from, where it's going, and what it means.
B+
- Assif Tsahar, Tatsuya Nakatani: Come Sunday (2003,
Hopscotch). Tsahar plays tenor sax and bass clarinet; Nakatani plays
drums and percussion.
"Rap Race Slot" (typical Tsahar ts);
"J Walk" (bcl, moves gracefully while Nakatani plays toms for atmosphere);
"Closed News" (ts played like bcl, percussion has metallic feel, like he's
beating on a washing machine, which sometimes beats back; volume grows
as it goes on);
"Sawing Clouds" (atmospheric drones);
"Street Cleaning" (starts off with a little squiggle of ts, wood-on-wood
percussion; again, this grows in complexity, sounds more like bcl later
on);
"Come Sunday" (Ellington song; starts so slow it's unrecognizable, with
Tsahar playing melody and Nakatani decorating with percussion effects;
short too -- don't mean a thing 'cause it ain't got no swing);
"West 4th" (kicks it up several notches into hyperdrive ts, with similar
percussion except faster; short too);
"NY Moment" (patently avant-garde, whines, shrieks, dorking around);
"Low Lov" (slow-mo avant-garde, less of the same);
"Circling the Cube" (not the lightning rapple of "Rap Ace Slot" or "West
4th," but feels more powerful, more subtly muscular);
"Missed Rehearsal" (bcl, effectively toning down the previous movement).
B+
- Warren Zevon: The Wind (2003, Artemis). I wasn't in
any big hurry on this one -- thought My Ride's Here was overrated
(great title song, admittedly), that the only real good (A-) albums that
he ever did were Excitable Boy and The Envoy -- and those
got by not on consistency but on their few extraordinary flights of
fantasy. And this one has been in the hype mill since he got diagnosed
with terminal lung cancer, so I figured the positive reports were tainted
by sentiment. And the reports of famous guest stars piling onto his wake
didn't bode well, either. But now that I've heard it, I'm feeling a bit
sentimental myself. The thing I'm most struck by is how good the filler
is -- these are mostly small songs, mostly understated. He's never made
a consistent album before, but this never fails.
A-
- The Wire Tapper 10 ([2003], The Wire, 2CD). This is a
sampler that came with the Oct. 2003 issue of The Wire. This is
a not-for-sale item that I probably shouldn't waste my time with, but I
will note that Faust & Dalek's "Telectronique" is underground rap
that appeals strongly to me, and Four Tet's "Spirit Fingers" is a guitar
and effects instrumental that reminds me of Fripp & Eno but goes
further. Things like this, where I've heard of maybe 5 of 30 artists,
are what notebooks are for.
Saturday, December 20, 2003
I started to write this in response to a request to formulate a
position for opponents of the Bush War in Iraq. I didn't finish, and
it suffers from overly fastidious wordsmithing.
With the capture of Saddam Hussein, the US has achieved practically
all of its military goals in Iraq. However, the US has failed utterly
to achieve its political goals in Iraq, and has no hope of reversing
its losses. Sooner or later real power in Iraq will have to revert to
the Iraqi people, and will necessarily favor Iraqi interests over the
interests of the US. How severely this eventuality will rebound against
the US depends in large part on how much pain Iraq endures before the
Iraqis are free of US domination.
The mere fact that a significant number of Iraqis have taken up armed
resistance against the US occupation has made that occupation untenable.
Sure, the US military can easily kill any insurgents that challenge it.
But the US military cannot limit its destruction to the insurgents, so
its repression just serves to bind the resistance to the population,
and build up resentment to the US occupation. Even if the US were able
to significantly suppress the insurgency, the pressure behind resistance
will continue to build.
The other question is how much resistance the American people can stand.
Iraqi resistance costs the US in lives, in money, in good will, and in
self-esteem. It provokes the US to heinous acts, and implies that the
ideals we claim for outselves and promote for others are hypocritical
and callous. Support for the war among the American public is shaky,
and only likely to sink as the war slogs on with no hope in sight. The
war has damaged the US economy, which has only avoided severe recession
due to low interest rates and major deficit spending -- strategies that
are unlikely to be sustainable. The war also risks further isolating
the US from the other powers and peoples of the world, who have over
the past two decades been willing to subsidize US debts.
Clearly, the US has no practical option but to extricate itself from
Iraq. The main argument against a quick, unilateral exit is that the
risk that it would create a power vacuum that would result in bloody
civil war within Iraq.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
Sunday, Dec. 14, 2003, with the capture of Saddam Hussein, was the second
feel good day of the Iraq war. The first, of course, was the day the US
entered Baghdad, resulting in the staged toppling of Saddam's statue.
Both were days when Saddam's tyranny fell; both were days when the fall
of Saddam at least temporarily eclipsed the tragedy of Bush's war. Of
course, that says as much about the media as it does history: we focus
so much on immediate tangible events that the broader context, "the big
picture," gets lost, much as the moon doesn't actually set each morning --
it just gets overwhelmed by the relative brightness of the sun. Still,
the sun does inevitably set, returning us to the dim light of the moon.
What's left for Saddam Hussein is just to pick over the bones, of which
there are plenty. Removing Saddam Hussein from power is the one positive
accomplishment of the Bush War. It's not a justification, just a welcome
respite.
The local paper had several pieces, plus one of Randy Schofield's me-too
editorials and even a Crowson cartoon, on how best to bring Saddam to
justice. Or more precisely, who gets to execute him. One of the pieces
was a chart of possible courts, which were mainly distinguished by which
have the option of capital punishment. That seems to disqualify the World
Court. (One option missing from the list is turning him over to Iran,
which can safely be counted in the pro-capital punishment camp.) I don't
care much one way or the other. After some twists and turns, I finally
came to the opinion that I'm opposed to capital punishment -- ultimately
because I don't want to give governments the option of killing citizens,
and I don't want to deny citizens the right not to be killed by their
government, even when they have seriously transgressed against their
fellow citizens. Abuse is obviously a worry here, but even if somehow
abuse could be guaranteed against, the mere option of capital punishment
distorts discussion over how to punish and how to secure against further
crimes.
But that's just the general principle. In the matter of Saddam Hussein,
I don't care much one way or the other. In defense of not executing him,
I'll point out that there are many other people who have committed
comparable crimes without even getting prosecuted -- Richard Nixon and
Henry Kissinger are good cases in point. (George W. Bush is another,
and his father wasn't much better -- merely less foolish.) Stalin was
another, and the list goes on and on. For such people, the most critical
thing we can hope for is exposure -- and ironically, keeping Saddam alive
is more likely to facilitate exposure than summarily killing him. On the
other hand, Saddam has been pretty much exposed already, and he is pretty
much history at this point. Killing him is not likely to make much
difference one way or the other. Maybe it would make him a martyr,
but it's hard to make much of a martyr out of such an unprincipled
lout. Certainly it would close one door on history -- the finalitude
that argues against most capital executions is a plus here. Back when
I was kicking the principle around in my mind, I conceded that there
was one case where I did approve of capital punishment: when Romania
revolted against Ceausescu, they executed the dictator and his wife,
then outlawed capital punishment. That put a stake in the heart of
Ceausescu's cult of personality, depriving his diehard supporters of
any reason to continue the war, and no doubt saving many lives. It
also put an end to any temptation to further purge Romania's communist
leadership. And it set a clear standard that separated the true monsters
from even their rank and file supporters. I'm willing to accept that
Saddam was such a monster that he should be singled out for execution.
But it is a sobering thought that the ultimate price he might pay is
no more than that paid by thousands of ordinary Iraqis mowed down in
Bush's quixotic effort to remake the Middle East in the image of West
Texas. And whereas killing Ceausescu brought Romania's revolution to
a definitive close, killing Saddam will have no real effect on Iraq's
resistance to US occupation -- the killing will continue there, even
though the prime reason why the US started this war is no longer in
play. The only hope we have for a third feel good day in Iraq is if
Bush decides that Saddam's skull is victory enough.
Just one more point here: when we were visiting relatives in Oklahoma,
they were all abuzz about a manhunt for a murderer there which over the
course of a couple of weeks had cost the authorities more than a million
dollars. I wondered, at the time, what the cost of the hunt for Saddam
Hussein was costing the proverbial US taxpayers -- must be in the billions.
Sunday, December 14, 2003
Music: Initial count 8697 rated (+15), 946 unrated (-8). Working on my
2003 wrap-up piece, occasionally throwing items into another Recycled
Goods.
- Tim Berne: The Sublime And: Science Friction Live
(2003, Thirsty Ear, 2CD). Berne's quartet recorded an album in 2001
called Science Friction, which I haven't heard but which seems
to be regarded as damn near the best thing he's ever done. I've never
been much of a fan, but parts of his previous Thirsty Ear release,
The Shell Game, blew me away. Few saxophonists play such
unreconstructedly difficult music, but when it does mesh the power
is undeniable. Berne himself was a protege of Julius Hemphill, who
had a real knack for making music that was at once impossible to
lisen to and magnificent to behold. The group here consists of Berne
(alto sax), Tom Rainey (drums), Marc Ducret (guitar), and Craig Taborn
("Rhodes, laptop, virtual organ and virtually"). The six pieces are long:
"Van Gundy's Retreat" (10:43);
"The Shell Game" (23:59; for a long stretch here, I'm hearing Berne
reiterated, like his single line is cloned to add resonance if not
harmonics; around 11 minutes in Ducret cuts loose with a savage
guitar solo, driving the piece for several minutes; 15 minutes in
we get a drum solo);
"Mrs. Subliminal/Clownfinger" (30:18);
"Smallfry" (6:17);
"Jalapeno Diplomacy/Traction" (20:15; good example here of what I'm
tempted to call Berne's pointillism -- he builds his melodies out
of discrete notes without bending them together, so they juxtapose
rather than flow; drums necessarily function the same way, so the
duet with Raney emphasizes that tendency; Rainey's play continues
with the organ replacing Berne to identical effect);
"Stuckon U (For Sarah)" (19:14; this closes strong with Ducret guitar).
I suspect that the studio album is clearer -- at least the pieces I have
played from Berne's website are. I also suspect that other people might
like this better than I do -- especially anyone who is hep to Julius
Hemphill's harmonics.
B+
- Sonny Clark Trio (1957 [1987], Blue Note). With Paul
Chambers (bass) and Philly Joe Jones (drums). One of the finest jazz
pianists of the '50s, in a superb trio outing from relatively early on.
Three cuts are doubled up with alternate takes, which effectively make
them similar in length to the 9:53 version of Dizzy Gillespie's "Be-Bop" --
effectively the centerpiece of this album. A-
- Guy Davis: Chocolate to the Bone (2003, Red House).
Davis is the most consistent of the "Baby Tajs" -- young bluesmen whose
roots dedication follows Taj Mahal's footsteps -- perhaps because he's
the least adventurous. His sixth album is much like its predecessors,
but his voice is getting thicker and more authoritative, and his use
of history keeps expanding: he reaches back past Howlin' Wolf to Ishmon
Bracey for "Saturday Blues," and past Zora Neal Hurston to the crucible
of slavery for "Shortnin' Bread," while rewriting Sleepy John Estes'
"Limetown" and penning a new tribute to his Armitron watch. B+
- Dominic Duval, Mark Whitecage: Rules of Engagement, Vol. 1
(2002 [2003], Drimala). Duval is a bassist who has been active recently
in the northeast. I saw him in Cambridge, MA a few years back, in a trio
with Cecil Taylor, and Taylor wore him down to a pulp within 20 minutes.
Mark Whitecage plays clarinet, alto sax, and soprano sax here -- mostly
clarinet. His discography starts around 1996, but he was born in 1937,
so got off to a very late start. But his CIMP albums are rated highly
in the Penguin Guide, and he's recorded extensively on his own
Acoustics label. I haven't heard any of those, nor any albums in Duval's
name -- though I'm sure he has been a sideman or co-leader a few times.
A-
- EG Kight: Southern Comfort (2003, Blue South). This
is her third album. The inner spine -- I guess that's as good as any
description: clear CD cases have an extra space on the front where the
hinges are connected, and designers have started to exploit that bit
of space, usually with type reading top to bottom -- dubs her "The
Georgia Songbird." Actually, she's a blues singer -- white, female
subdivision. Blues is the most conservative form of music in America --
comparatively, country is a tower of polymorphuous perversity, but I
have to admit I'm not expert enough in re heavy metal to rule it out
completely. The dominant blues paradigm, at least since the advent of
Albert Collins (if not Albert King), is the black male guitar slinger,
and they number in the hundreds, with their interchangeable licks and
complaints. So in such a conservative medium, white females have little
trouble distinguishing themselves. Or "had" might be more accurate --
there are dozens now, and by the time you get down to the Joanna
Connors and Susan Tedeschis the same sameness starts to set in.
A-
- Lee Konitz With Alan Broadbent: Live-Lee (2000 [2003],
Milestone). The duo framework allows virtually no dynamics, and given
the two players -- I'm tempted to contrast this to Stan Getz and Kenny
Barron -- there's damn little interplay there too. What you get then are
relatively discrete performances intercut. Broadbent's piano doesn't
do a lot for me. It's probably unfair to blame this on his fondness for
classical music, but it comes off as static, delicate, maybe even a
bit contrived. The same sort of things can be said about Konitz, but
they'd be even further off the mark. At least with Konitz we know that
his idea of classical music is Tristano. He plays very deliberately
here -- of course, he always plays deliberately, so maybe it's just
more conspicuous without having bass and drums to move things along.
But somehow it works this way -- the more I listen to this, the more
I find myself hanging on every note, the deliberate construction of
Konitz's solos fading into the certainty of their rightness.
B+
- Lyrics Born: The Day After . . . (2003, Quannum
Projects). Aka Tom Shimura. He came out of the UC Davis underground
that also produced DJ Shadow and Blackalicious, and previously cut
a good album with Lateef the Truth Speaker called Latyrx: The
Album. This solo work has evidently been percolating for quite
a while -- 13 years is a figure quoted in "Nightro," which may or
may not mean anything. Some superb pieces here, but it's hard to
characterize what unifies them -- indeed, whether anything unifies
them. What they don't have is consistent sound or groove. But they
do have brains; the raps are dense and wordy; the guests mix things
up (cf. Altered Egos on "One Session," Lateef on "The Last Trumpet,"
Joyo Velarde on "Love Me So Bad." Strangely, the best thing is a
skit ("U Ass Bank"). Almost a great album; maybe, in fact, if I
could just puzzle it out, or just go with what I feel. A-
- Madonna: American Life (2003, Maverick/Warner Bros.).
Title song is OK, maybe a bit better than OK. "Hollywood" is better.
In fact, song after song sounds quite good. At least until #6, "Nothing
Fails," which goes "I'm not religious" then breaks into prayer and
ecclesiastes -- sort of touching, in a weird way, a bit like the song
on Like a Prayer. A couple more songs flirt uncomfortably with
religion; whether this is why the music tapers off is hard to say --
maybe she just ran out of her budget on the first half? "Die Another
Day" has a better beat. Play it a few more times and it evens out a
bit. B+
- John McLaughlin: Thieves and Poets (2003, Verve).
The title cut is 25 minutes (in three parts) with an overblown symphony
orchestra. It has a few rough spots -- whence overblown -- but for the
most part is grossly beautiful, with some nice acceleration from the
guitarist. Afterwards, the albums closes with four standards, each
dedicated to a pianist, done with another (smaller) classical group.
These, too, are pretty. B
- OutKast: Speakerboxx / The Love Below (2003, Arista).
I had a friend once who had never really studied anything in his life.
He went to grade school like he was doing time. But when Led Zeppelin's
Physical Graffiti first came out, I found him studying it. He
was trying his best to concentrate, staring straight ahead, gritting
his teeth. He insisted on absorbing every little details, every nuance
of Zep's sprawling, less-than-fully-coherent double LP. As far as I was
concerned, it was obvious from the start that Physical Graffiti
was a sloppy mess, that whatever discipline they had brought to bear
on their previous five albums had been shot to shit. Maybe they were
too big for anyone to rein them in. Maybe they were always full of
shit. By that point I didn't much care, but my friend did. I doubt
that he ever found the holy greil there, but I don't doubt that he
could eventually ID every detail. And since the one thing I readily
concede about Physical Graffiti is that it does have the sort
of details that are usually found in great albums, I've long suspected
that he got a lot more out of it than I ever would. I bring this up
because I'm sure that there are people who've put the sort of time
into the latest OutKast album that it no doubt takes, and most likely
they'll wind up convinced that it's as great as . . . well, the long
history of sloppy doubles goes back past Physical Graffiti at
least to The Beatles. For my part, ever since I started hearing
about this double-barrel solo album, following up what was probably
the only rap record ever that everyone loved, I've been figuring this
as this year's record most likely to disappoint. Given that, I'm not
really disappointed, but I am overwhelmed -- at least whelmed beyond
all the enthusiasm I can muster to sort this out. I will say that
Andre 3000's disc has one great song ("Spread"), some good ones, and
somewhat amusing skits; also that Big Boi's disc keeps up a suitable
funk groove. At least I think that's the breakdown of who did what.
Given a long stretch of nothing better to do I may go back and spend
more time, at which point I'll no doubt find more to say. But just
as quick impressions go, I doubt that I'm far off the mark here.
B+
- Sarah Pierce: Love's the Only Way (2003, Little Bear).
Yet another singer-songwriter -- hard to be more specific than that,
since she isn't especially countryish or bluesy or alt (except in the
obscure sense) or punk or any other category I can think of. AMG lists
two albums, but their review of this one identifies this as her fifth.
Her website shows five albums, going back to 1991. She's based in
Austin. One review describes this as a "nice mix of country, folk
and rock." Again, it's not my idea of country or folk, and while it
does rock, that doesn't mean much here. B
- Pink: Try This (2003, Arista). She's doing what Madonna
did, rather than trying to be the next Madonna. In particular, she works
on her image, while hiring top-flight talent to build up the music. But
she also has good enough taste in the music to make sure it works, which
means works for her. The move this time is toward punk, away from teen-pop
dance beats. The talent includes Tim Armstrong (Rancid, the Transplants),
which pays off in the first few songs, which rock harder than anything
she's ever done, and connect vocally better than anything Rancid has
released. But "Waiting for Love," another Linda Perry collaboration, is
utter crap -- bad heavy metal [well, maybe not so awful, but not a smart
step]. The Linda Perry section as a whole feels musically clumsy here,
and when the record starts to right itself again, with "Humble Neighborhood"
and "Walk Away," the key collaborator is Tim Armstrong again. Last song is
credited to Damon Elliott, a ballad called "Love Song" that fades out
around 2:30, after which (with a minute of dead time) an uncredited track
starts up, going "you ain't nothing but a hooker/selling your fucking soul."
Not as good as the first half of the last one; better than the second half.
Not as good as she could (and probably will) do sometime. Not an oracle.
Not a fad, either. A-
- Bud Powell: Parisian Thoroughfares (1957-61 [2003],
Pablo). This is the second installment in Pablo's repackaging of the
tapes that Francis Paudras made of Powell during his last years in
Paris -- more choice pickings from the ten Mythic Sound discs; like
its predecessor, Paris Sessions, this jumps around a bit,
mixing trios with guest horns -- Zoot Sims and Barney Wilen stand
out; the sound is a bit dicier, but anyone who thinks Powell was
done in the '40s has serious ear problems. A-
- Rancid: Indestructible (2003, Hellcat). They started
off as scholars of the early days of punk -- on an album like . . .
And Out Come the Wolves I could ID almost every riff, and they came
not just from the Clash but from all over the scene. But the more they
progress, the fewer models they have, until ultimately they have to
face up to London Calling. This is, indeed, their London
Calling. It is long, richly varied, pointed. Most of the songs
are instantly memorable, and the record as a whole is a tour de force.
Which is not to say that it is as good, let alone as great, as London
Calling. It misses by a fairly large margin. But part of that is
that they're no longer mere copycats. They've become a major band in
their own right, and they even have a unifying sound to go with their
cornucopia of songs. I liked The Transplants more because it
had more rhythmic integrity, but I'm duly impressed here, too. A-
- The Raveonettes: Chain Gang of Love (2003, Columbia).
They've got a sound, but the Jesus and Mary Chain had it before them.
They've got a look too, but for all I know that dates back to James
Dean. They sell their records cheap. There's an old business axiom
which warns against selling something too cheap because it suggests
that the product isn't really worth it. They probably even believe
that, but cheap is their aesthetic. Inspirational verse: "my girl is
a little animal/she always wants to fuck/I can't find a reason why/I
guess it's just my luck." Might as well grade them on the cheap as
well -- that's my little contribution to their project. B+
- The Red Stick Ramblers: Bring It On Down (2003,
Memphis International). AMG classifies them as country, although the
description sounds more cajun. (Their website classifies their music
as "authentic cajun gypsy swing.") They hail from Baton Rouge, and have
various cajun connections. This is their second album. It has a couple
of songs in French, a couple more from the Bob Wills songbook, "Dinah,"
"16 Tons," a couple of originals by guitarist Josh Caffery. Linzay Young
plays fiddle, piano, and sings; he seems weak-voiced. B
- The Rough Guide to the Music of Indonesia ([2000],
World Music Network). This strikes me as an exceptionally good general
intro to Indonesian folk/pop music, but what do I know? Damn little,
I'm afraid. Lots of little flute-things, tinkles, etc. Much of it is
quaintly charming, but it's a world that I've never really connected
with. B+
- Dino Saluzzi: Responsorium (2001 [2003], ECM).
Saluzzi is an Argentine bandoneon player, which automatically marks
him as a tangoista. But tango mostly lurks in the background here,
surfacing as flashes of rhythm to move the pieces along, but nothing
that might push you toward the dancefloor. Like much ECM jazz, this
gravitates toward the seam between New Age and World, its unconventional
rhythms and instruments aimed at setting a mood that functions nicely
as background. But it works beautifully: Saluzzi's sound is fleshed out
by son José Maria Saluzzi's classical guitar and Palle Danielsson's
acoustic bass, adding a wealth of delicious detail. A-
- Tomasz Stanko: The Soul of Things (2001 [2002],
ECM). The most famous trumpet player ever to come out of Poland,
in a quartet with three more Poles I've never heard of (admittedly,
an assumption, but the surnames are Wasilewski, Kurkiewicz, and
Miskiewicz, which sure sound Polish to me; from the pictures,
I'll add that they all look a lot younger than Stanko, who was
60). A lot of this is slow, darkly intoned. It's set up as 13
pieces sequenced under the same title. I've been playing this a
lot lately. Not easy to describe, but I find it lovely, deeply
satisfying in a somewhat obscure way. A-
Earl Thomas: Soul'd (Memphis International). Thanks to
the magic of recorded music, nothing old ever dies. Now that the blues
circuit has become the final resting place for pioneering '60s soul
singers like Solomon Burke, it's also home for young 'uns who think
that the music never progressed beyond Otis Redding. Thomas was born
in 1960, so he's gotten his schtick from records and aging
legends. He's way too late to ever become a legend himself, but if you
wonder why they don't make soul records like they used to, you just
haven't been looking hard enough. B+
- Triple R: Friends (2002, Kompakt). All the booklet
has to say about this microhouse mix disk is "für meine Freunde."
Twelve cuts by twelve artists, none distinct in any obvious way, each
ticking along in a similar little microgroove. There must be dozens,
hundreds even, of comparable but marginally differentiated variants on
the same schemata, but I glommed onto this one only because
Michaelangelo Matos -- by far the best guide I know of when it comes
to electronic dance music -- recommended it. Judging from his review,
he hears much more detail here than I do. But I still find it to be
every bit as seductive as he claims -- a soothing, cleansing monotony.
A-
- Loudon Wainwright III: So Damn Happy (2003, Sanctuary).
Another live one, which of course lets him pad the new ones with proven
old ones. And not so proven old ones. B+
- Yellowjackets: Time Squared (2003, Heads Up). I never
considered this long-running (since 1981) group to be worth spending time
with -- one of those smooth/crossover jazz groups, right? So this is my
first intro -- just something new that showed up at the library, so why
not? First thing I was struck by was Bob Mintzer's saxophone tone, which
is nothing to quibble over. First time through, it seemed to hold up
nicely at least a third of the way through, though it did dull down
toward the end. Worth another play. . . . OK, I'm impressed by the
fundamental competence of the group. I especially like the tone and
dynamics I hear from Mintzer. I'm far less impressed with piano/keyboardist
Russell Ferrante. But as sharply professional as this often sounds, I
never quite find what they're doing to be interesting. B
- Zu: Igneo (2001 [2002], Amanita). Looking at the
geological maps on the elegantly crafted packaging reminds me that
igneous rocks are forged under intense heat and pressure -- some, like
granite, cooling beneath the surface; others erupting violently.
Clearly, this Italian free jazz band knows the fire and fury of the
rock they stand on. They also know kindred spirits half-way around the
globe: they traveled to Chicago to make this album with punk avatar
Steve Albini, with guest shots from saxophone colossus Ken Vandermark
and his trombone sidekick, Jeb Bishop. Not that they are really
necessary -- saxophonist Luca Tommaso Mai sent me back to the book
several times to make sure that it wasn't Vandermark playing. This is
noisy alright -- a volcanic eruption of freedom. A-
Sunday, December 07, 2003
Music: Initial count 8682 rated (+28), 954 unrated (-3). November's
belated Recycled Goods is very nearly done -- got all the main reviews,
just looking for last-minute things I want to tack onto Briefly Noted.
Plus I've already pushed some of the excess into December's Recycled,
which I want to get back onto my (who knows about Static's) schedule.
Also coming up fast is the need to write up a year-end list and my
year-end catch-up for Static.
- The Beat: Go-Go's Fusion of Funk and Hip Hop
(1979-2001 [2001], Liaison, 2CD). Don't know much about this DC funk
scene -- it has the sort of anonymity (or unfamiliarity) that is
easy to come by in the "local music" section of record stores.
But the first disc, ranging from 1979 to 1991, is first rate,
starting with Chuck Brown's "Bustin' Loose" and cranking it up
to EU's "Da Butt." The second disc, dating from 1994 to present,
is less impressive, but continues the hard funk beats. A-
- The Blue Series Continuum: The Sorcerer Sessions Featuring the
Music of Matthew Shipp (2003, Thirsty Ear). Working off an
advance here. Group: Gerald Cleaver (drums), FLAM (programming and
synth), William Parker (bass), Matthew Shipp (piano and synth),
Daniel Bernard Roumain (violin), Evan Ziporyn (clarinet and bass
clarinet). I've always assumed that these are remakes of earlier
Shipp compositions, but I can't find any of the titles in Rich
Lopez's discography, which is pretty complete on such things.
Engineered by FLAM at Sorcerer Sound.
Songs:
"Pulsar" (starts with slow-mo piano solo, adds violin);
"Keystroke" (piano plus little blips, clicks, pops, squiggles, what
have you);
"Lightforms" (piano plus whooshy electronics);
"Urban Shadows" (drums -- sounds synthetic at first, then acoustic;
synth swooshes, the most distinctive sound of which turns out to be
Roumain's violin; Ziporyn finally makes an appearance with a bit of
clarinet; train signals and more clarinet);
"x6" (composed by Roumain, whose violin starts it; doesn't amount to
much);
"Fixed Point" (another fragmentary piece, with a bit of Parker on bass,
but nothing special; piano pokes around);
"Invisible Steps" (piano, clarinet);
"Particle" (piano, bass, sound effects; false stop, then more of the
same);
"Reformation" (buzzsaw violin, overtones, do I hear a cymbal?);
"Modulate" (more tiny piano, more sound effects);
"Last Chamber" (march drumming, piano chords, melody; after the drought
this sounds loaded);
"Mist" (more atmospherics, occasional piano chords, with a little fill).
Trying to follow this album turns out to be a chore, whereas the 6-10
times I've played it and didn't manage to pay adequate attention to
write about it sounded much better. Shipp is known to be a big admirer
of David Bowie's Low. The first side of Low is tuneful,
but the second side is full of atmospherics with little beat; this
makes me wonder whether it's the second side that he admires. Yet
having enjoyed this 6-10 times in the background, I have to credit
it with a bit more going for it than I've described above. B
- Regina Carter: Paganini: After a Dream (2003, Verve).
This album of lite classical kitsch, from Ravel and Debussy to Piazzolla
and Bonfa to Morricone, at least avoids cloying symphonic trappings, but
by sticking to the downright gorgeous it eventually slips into stupor.
Pianist Werner Gierig has a light touch and is usually more fun than
Carter here. The bass and drums are also commendable, and Ettore Strata's
string orchestra doesn't intrude much. So, yep, I'm surprised that it
isn't worse than it is. B-
- Jean Grae: The Bootleg of the Bootleg EP (2003,
Babygrande). Harder than before -- older, wiser, more daunted by
reality, quicker to tell it/you to fuck off. Despite the EP notice,
the "bootlegs" at the end push it out toward an hour. They don't all
work, but they're not throwaways either. A-
- Vince Guaraldi: The Charlie Brown Suite and Other Favorites
(1968 [2003], Bluebird). My impression is that Guaraldi is a competent
but not especially interesting jazz pianist -- I group him loosely in
the same bag as George Shearing and Andre Previn without really knowing
much about any of them. He probably did his critical standing a permanent
blow by tying into the Peanuts franchise, but it no doubt helped his bank
account. This item came in the mail, which makes it the first Guaraldi
record that I've actually heard. The good news is that the jaunty little
themes are pleasant enough. The bad news is that he decided to move uptown
in orchestrating them for a classical music ensemble. If you like that
sort of thing, you might find this amusing. I don't, which means I find
that this meanders in and out of tediousness, especially when the strings
kick in. But I like the little latin kick on "Charlie Brown Theme." B-
- Salif Keita: Moffou (2002, Decca). The simple arrangements
here let the singer show off his stuff, but at a distance it rolls gently.
Functional as easy-vibe mood music. B+
- Salif Keita: Papa (1998, Metro Blue). I've played
Moffou half-a-dozen times in the last 3-4 weeks, always enjoying
its gentle roll and wondering what more there should be. Keita's an
impressive singer, projects a lot of power. However, this doesn't
roll gently -- it seems piled on real thick. B
- Steve Lacy Nine: Futurities Part I (1984 [1989],
Hat Now). Part II, in particular, is often regarded as one of
the high points in Lacy's catalog. The front cover says: "Music:
Steve Lacy/Words: Robert Creeley." The real problem with words on
Lacy albums is usually his singer/wife, Irène Aebi. She has a deep
operatic voice, without the slightest hint of swing, so everything
she does hardens into euroclassical art-song. She's been the bane
of many a Lacy album, but I'm not sure that she's the real problem
here: in struggling to wrap Creeley's words up in music, much of
Lacy's part here gets real convoluted. It's not without interest --
cf. George Lewis on trombone -- but it is plenty tough to warm up
to. B-
- Metallica: St. Anger (2003, Elektra). Another thing
from the library -- never managed to hear them before. Always liked the
name, but no one I trust ever recommended them. I'm not adverse, in
principle at least, to heavy metal; on the other hand, I don't expect
much. First cut here sounds OK. Second (title cut) is awful -- the
overwrought anger welling up from simple incompetence. Third cut starts
out with a good bass rhythm -- heavy metal is really a bass & drums
thing, isn't it? -- but then the singer croaks and it goes downhill
from there. "Dirty Window" is crap -- should have caught some lyrics,
but you can probably look 'em up. "Invisible Kid" is OK -- most of
it, anyway. "My World" is peurile, egocentric trash -- probably the
best they can do, but again they stretch it out too long. I managed
to lose consciousness somewhere around "Sweet Amber," but when I
snapped too they were still playing, and were worse than ever. Long
fucking record, much too long. Package comes with a DVD and a big
booklet with all those lyrics you may have missed while unconscious.
C-
- Abdoulaye N'Diaye: Taoué (2001 [2003], Justin Time).
More fruit from David Murray's Senegal connection, first formed around
the Fo Deuk Revue album. This is another America-meets-Africa
setup. The Americans present are Murray, Dave Burrell (piano), Jaribu
Shahid (bass, you know him from James Carter's old group), and Hamid
Drake (drums) -- a dream team. The Africans form "a traditional quintet",
with percussion, bolong, kora, and djembe, plus a griot vocal by
Tidiane Gaye. The notes suggest that the two groups perform separately,
but doesn't give us cut-by-cut details, other than the info that
everyone plays on the lead cut. The first four cuts are clearly rooted
in Senegal, with the fourth one, "Xarrit Sama," particularly pleasing
for its extended kora with N'Diaye adding color. The fifth cut, "Cobb's
Cat," is attributed to Sam Sanders, who is identified as N'Diaye's
jazz teacher. It's a bebop piece, with strong support from Burrell.
"Wakhtane" is an N'Diaye composition, but again it feels like the
Americans playing something post-bop, and the sax sure sounds like
Murray to me. A-
- Sonny Rollins + 3 (1996, Milestone). Actually, two
separate quartets, both with old standby Bob Cranshaw on bass, who
is joined by: Stephen Scott (piano) and Jack DeJohnette (drums) on
two cuts; Tommy Flanagan (piano) and Al Foster (drums) on the other
five. Rollins rarely has the patience for pianists, but when he does
it's often Flanagan -- who was also at his side in 1956 for
Saxophone Colossus. This is terrifically robust saxophone,
with a take on "Mona Lisa" that will be considered definitive.
A-
- Shout, Sister, Shout! A Tribute to Sister Rosetta Tharpe
(2003, MC Records).
Songs (the Holmes Brothers back many of these tracks):
"Nobody's Fault but Mine" (Joan Osborne; Osborne continues to impress,
belting this one out as strong as anything she did on the Funk Brothers
documentary);
"My Journey to the Sky" (Maria Muldaur [vocal] / Bonnie Raitt [guitar]; this
is clearly Muldaur's kind of thing);
"Rock Me" (Toshi Reagon [from Sweet Honey in the Rock]; clunky rhythm);
"Two Little Fishes and Five Loaves of Bread" (Odetta; a great song; Odetta
has an odd voice that I've never found attractive, but this works fine);
"Strange Things Happening Every Day" (Michelle Shocked; done with an accent
on strange);
"This Train" (Janis Ian; done very minimally, with just a hint of guitar);
"Shout, Sister, Shout" (Maria Muldaur / Marcia Ball / Angela Strehli / Tracy
Nelson; with a jazz band, a sort of pop-swing thing c. Andrews Sisters);
"Beams of Heaven" (Phoebe Snow; with church organ);
"Precious Memories" (Sweet Honey in the Rock; voices, many voices);
"I Want a Tall Skinny Papa" (Marcia Ball; another jazzy take, with stride
piano, guitar solo, sax solo, Nelson and Strehli singing backup);
"My Lord and I" (Victoria Williams; wacked out voice, sounds very affected,
but every time she come around the point; wacked out guitar, wacked out
rhythm);
"Stand by Me" (Rory Block; bluesy vocal, a little slide on the guitar);
"Up Above My Head" (Maria Muldaur / Tracy Nelson; duet, strong voices);
"Don't Take Everybody to Be Your Friend" (Joanna Connor; straightforward
blues);
"That's All" (Angela Strehli; good);
"I Looked Down the Line (And I Wondered)" (Maria Muldaur; another good
performance, mostly due to the singer);
"Didn't It Rain" (Marie Knight [a former singing partner of Tharpe's];
probably the most conventional piece here, which is a fitting close).
B+
- The Skatalites: Foundation Ska (1964-65 [1997],
Heartbeat, 2CD). The booklet isn't much help on dates, but the first
instantiation of this seminal ska band only lasted from 1964-65, so
that's presumably where these cuts came from. The lion's share here
were engineered and produced by C.S. Dodd, but six tracks here are
attributed to Duke Reid. At least four band members are household
names: Tommy McCook (sax), Rolando Alphonso (sax), Don Drummond
(trombone), and Jackie Mittoo (piano). They backed many of the
period's great hits, and cut instrumentals under their own name.
A few of these cuts have vocals -- "Simmer Down" with Bob Marley
and the Wailers, "World's Fair" with Stranger Cole and Ken Boothe.
One thing I didn't expect was a gorgeous sax ballad (baritone?),
"Ringo's Theme (Version Two)." A couple of Jackie Opel vocals on
the second disc. A-
- Mal Waldron: Soul Eyes: The Mal Waldron Memorial Album
(1955-62 [2003], Prestige). When he was young Waldron was best known for
his work accompanying Billie Holiday, and 40+ years later that was still
what he was best known for. Anyone with more than a passing familiarity
with his work will find the persistence of this reputation odd -- surely
it is a tribute to Holiday, but it also shows ignorance of Waldron's own
substantial work. The most striking thing about this collection is the
sheer variety of the tracks -- the intent is no doubt to provide a broad
view of Waldron's work. So we need to survey this song by song:
"A Portrait of Bud Powell" (Waldron; solo piano, from 1955; good move to
start with the piano, his composition, and the nod to Powell);
"Soul Eyes" (Waldron; a lovely ballad, set up for two trumpets [Idrees
Suleiman, Webster Young] and two tenors [John Coltrane, Bobby Jaspar];
Kenny Burrell adds some nice guitar; long piece: 17:29, so everyone
gets a shot at a solo -- sounds like Coltrane for the first tenor
solo; don't know the trumpet players well enough to recognize them,
but the tones are markedly different);
"Potpourri" (Waldron; sextet with Jackie McLean and Coltrane);
"Dakar" (Teddy Charles; the title track from Coltrane's album, where they
are joined by two baritone saxes [Cecil Payne, Pepper Adams]);
"While My Lady Sleeps" (Kahn/Kaper; another cut from a Coltrane album);
"God Bless the Child" (Herzog/Holiday; from Webster Young's 1957 Holiday
tribute, with Paul Quinichette; Waldron played for Holiday from 1957-59,
her last years);
"Dear Elaine" (Waldron; from an album led by vibist Teddy Charles, another
thoughtful ballad with a lovely piano theme; Charles' addition is minor,
a slight accenting on a beautiful piece for Waldron's piano);
"Splidium-Dow" (Waldron; previously unreleased alternate take from a 1958
Waldron trio);
"Bye-Ya" (Monk; this comes from Steve Lacy's 1958 album, a quartet with
Buell Neidlinger and Elvin Jones, the first of a career's worth of Monk
exploration by Lacy; Waldron and Lacy cut several more albums together,
mostly in the early '90s, mostly duets);
"Fire Waltz" (Waldron; with Eric Dolphy [alto sax], Booker Ervin [tenor
sax], Ron Carter [cello], this 1961 record gave Dolphy major supporting
credit; Waldron later played on several Dolphy records);
"Light'n Up" (Waldron; a quartet with tenor sax, the saxophonist needs
no introduction: couldn't be anyone but Gene Ammons, and it's gorgeous
work even by his standards; Waldron played on ten or so Ammons albums
from 1955-62).
A-
- Once Upon a Time: The Best of Delroy Wilson (1967-74
[2003], Sanctuary/Trojan). First, there is no intersection between this
best-of and the twelve Coxsone Dodd songs on Wilson's Heartbeat best-of.
Don't have firm dates on either: it seems likely that Dodd's Studio One
cuts are earlier -- Wilson was 13 when he started working with Dodd
(which would be 1961-62), and the latest possible date for Heartbeat's
Original Twelve would be 1969. The leadoff cut here, a rocksteady
version of "This Old Heart of Mine," dates from 1967. Working through the
scant notes here, I gather that "What Is a Man" and "Ain't That Peculiar"
date from 1973, and the closer, "It's a Shame," comes from 1974. The
latter is first-rate; "This Old Heart of Mine" seems deconstructed.
Several notable originals here, including "Cool Operator," which seems
like his epitaph. Terrific singer. Hard to know just where to peg this.
B+
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Nov 2003 |
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