Archive for the ‘reissue’ Category

Album Review: Oscar Peterson — Exclusively for My Friends [6LP box set]

Friday, November 21st, 2014

Oscar Peterson was one of the most beloved figures in jazz. His recording career began in 1945, got fully underway in the 1950s, and tapered off as his health declined (he passed away in 2007). His catalog of recorded works is vast – well in excess of 200 albums – and contains many records considered essential to serious jazz fans.

One of the most interesting chapters in his discography is the series of albums released under the heading “Exclusively for My Friends.” In 1968, Montreal-born Peterson recorded six albums, all recorded in the small German city of Villingen-Schwenningen, specifically in the private living-room studio of Hans Georg Brunner-Schwer. (A ’65 session at Brunner-Schwer’s forms part of one of the discs.) Working in various configurations – solo piano, as a trio – Peterson effortlessly wound his way through the Great American Songbook, standards, show tunes, and (occasionally) his own compositions. These intimate performances – some of which were recorded in the presence of a small, invited audience – have been combined in a lavish, 6LP set titled Exclusively For My Friends.

The six LPs that make up this set –all of which The Penguin Guide to Jazz considers part of a jazz “core collection” – were originally issued in the late 1960s as individual albums; in 1992 MPS (the original issuing label, owned by Brunner-Schwer) licensed the set to Island Records, who reissued the material in a 4CD box set. But now in 2014, MPS has brought the material back to market in its original format.

Well, more or less. In many ways, the new Exclusively for My Friends box set is the best of all possible worlds, an improved version of the originals. The records have all been pressed on 180 gram virgin vinyl. The utmost care has gone into the remastering of the albums (a liner note essay from MPS Producer Dirk Sommer titled, “Best Sound or Faithful to the Original?” explains the process (Sommer answers his own question: “Yes!”), noting that the entire audio chain of sequence is analog (AAA). The sound reproduction on these vinyl LPs may well be the finest I have ever heard. The care that went into the original recordings has been sustained straight through to the mastering and pressing of these new vinyl reissues.

The packaging is stunning as well. Each of the LPs is housed in its own gatefold sleeve, complete with the glossy, four-color artwork featured on the original LPs. The box that holds all six is quite sturdy, and classily understated in its design. But of course it’s the music that’s the real story here.

Action (Vol. 1)
The first recording in the series, Action (recorded 1968) finds Peterson joined by Ray Brown on bass and drummer Ed Thigpen. Tunes from the songbooks of Cole Porter (“At Long Last Love”) and the Gershwins (“I’ve Got a Crush on You” and “Foggy Day”) make up more than half of the disc. The watchwords here are nuance and subtlety: Peterson’s deft, lyrical piano work is the centerpiece of the session.

Girl Talk (Vol. 2)
This album – also originally released in 1968 – combines two sessions, one dating from the year of its release, and the other circa 1965. Louis Hayes (drums) and bassist Brown join Peterson on two tracks, including a medley of Porter and Johnny Mercer tunes; Bobby Durham and Sam Jones are in the studio with Peterson on the remaining numbers.

The Way I Really Play (Vol. 3)
Jones and Durham again support Peterson on the third album in the series, recorded April 1968 (and likely from the same session that yielded much of Girl Talk). This set is notable for featuring the only original Oscar Peterson compositions in the series, “Sandy’s Blues” and “Noreen’s Nocturne.” Elsewhere, it’s more classics from the pens of Gershwin and Mercer, among others.

My Favorite Instrument (Vol. 4)
For this set (also recorded in April 1968), Peterson goes solo to showcase a set of standards including “Take the ‘A’ Train” and “Body and Soul.” Peterson’s readings are short and to the point: though the run time on the album is roughly the same as the others in this series (around 40-42 minutes), this set features more songs.

Mellow Mood (Vol. 5)
The title of this album – again from ’68, again with Jones and Durham on hand – is a bit misleading: it’s no more or less “mellow” than the other entries in the series. Another interpretation of a show tune (Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse‘s hit “Who Can I Turn To,” from the 1964 musical The Roar of the Gresepaint – The Smell of the Crowd) and more from both Duke Ellington and the Gershwins feature alongside Horace Silver‘s “Nica’s Dream.”

Travelin’ On (Vol. 6)
The last in the series – from the same sessions that yielded Mellow Mood – takes its title from the traditional song, here given a blindingly fast and precise reading by Peterson’s Trio. Francy Boland‘s “Sax No End” was a relatively new tune at the time of the Trio cutting their version of it here.

A limited-edition, promo-only 45rpm disc in picture sleeve of “On a Clear Day” (from Girl Talk) and “Alice in Wonderland” (from The Way I Really Play) went out to lucky reviewers. This new 6LP set is also available on open-reel tapes; those of a certain age may recall that in the late 60s and early 70s, open-reel tapes were the format of choice for audiophiles; these limited-edition tapes follow the same all-analog processing chain as their vinyl counterparts. Exclusively for My Friends is, as it happens, not exclusively for those with turntables or open-reel decks; the individual albums are also available in digital format – that would be AAD (analog recording, analog mixing, digital mastering) – for purchase/download from MPS.

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November Hundred-word Reviews, Part 4

Thursday, November 13th, 2014

Once again, it’s time for a run of hundred-word reviews. My inbox has been overflowing of late, and even after removing the material that I deem not worth my time (nor yours), I’m left with far too many discs to cover in my customary manner (500-800 word reviews). So herewith are twenty-five –count ‘em, twenty-five – brief, to-the-point reviews. The fourth set of five reviews looks at jazz from the 1950s and ’60s; some of it quite rare and largely unheard until now.


Marty Paich – The Jazz City Workshop
Naxos recently embarked on a reissue campaign, releasing the titles from the small yet acclaimed Bethlehem label. The jazz titles are getting the straight-reissue treatment; they’re noteworthy in that they’re coming out not only on CD, but on vinyl (in their original 10” and 12” formats). This set is led by pianist Paich, but perhaps the real stars here are vibraphonist Larry Bunker and trombonist Herbie Harper. The eight-song album is heavy on covers and standards (“Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart,” a reading of “Autumn Leaves” that anticipates the exotica craze), but the arrangements are uptempo and inventive.


Various – Four Horns and a Lush Life
Here’s another Naxos reissue of a Bethlehem title, again featuring Marty Paich. But here the ensemble is larger (eight players, featuring the “four horns” of the title plus a conductor). The various reviews and online listings of this album don’t seem to know whom to credit: conductor Russ Garcia? Paich? Trombonist Frank Rosolino? It matters little. This 1955 date (I had to look that up; it’s listed nowhere on the original-reproduction packaging) is fun and varied nonetheless. If you like lots of trombones in your jazz – and perhaps even if you do not – you’ll enjoy this swinging set.


Tony Scott – Lost Tapes: Germany 1957 / Asia 1962
Benny Goodman
is the most well-known clarinetist in jazz, but Tony Scott gained some level of fame and acclaim as well. He may be as well known for employing a young pianist named Bill Evans as for his own work. This set from Jazzhaus compiles four sessions: two 1957 German dates (one live, one studio) plus a rare clutch of live sessions from Hong Kong and Singapore dating from 1962 and featuring Italian musicians backing Scott. The tracks show Scott (and band) possessing a firm command of a variety of jazz styles, from soft and melancholy balladeering to frenetic bop.


Francy Boland – Playing with the Trio
Jazz pianist Francy Boland first came to fame through his musical association with Chet Baker. He’s primarily known as a big band leader; the core of that group (together 1962-1970 or thereabouts) consisted of him on piano plus upright bassist Jimmy Woode Jr. and drummer Kenny Clarke. This recording studio from 1967, however, presents only that trio. The power and excitement of the big band is distilled into the intimate confines of a trio; here, often big band arrangements are implied (and felt but not heard) in the trio arrangements. Half of the tunes are Boland originals; all are delightful.


Sun Ra – Supersonic Jazz plus Fate in a Pleasant Mood
Most listeners – even ardent fans of the man – would agree that the work of Sun Ra is not the ideal entry point through which to discover jazz. And Sun Ra’s forbiddingly deep catalog makes it tough to know where to begin. So what the heck: start here, with these two seemingly-randomly-chosen titles combined on a single disc. Supersonic Jazz dates from 1956; Fate was recorded and released circa 1961 (pinning these details down with Sun Ra’s work is often difficult). Exotic percussion and innovative, lyrical electric piano are the centerpieces of these titles. Supersonic‘s “Sunology” is a highlight.

5 more capsule reviews to come.

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November Hundred-word Reviews, Part 2

Tuesday, November 11th, 2014

Once again, it’s time for a run of hundred-word reviews. My inbox has been overflowing of late, and even after removing the material that I deem not worth my time (nor yours), I’m left with far too many discs to cover in my customary manner (500-800 word reviews). So herewith are twenty-five –count ‘em, twenty-five – brief, to-the-point reviews. The second set of five reviews looks at music from the 1980s: three reissues and two compilations.


Scruffy the Cat – The Good Goodbye
The music scene of the 1980s featured a handful of inventive, talented acts that bridged the gap between powerpop and what would come to be known as Americana (or “alt.”). The Long Ryders were at the rocking end of that continuum; Scruffy the Cat worked at the gentler, more melodic end. This collection of previously-unreleased material covers sessions that bookended the band’s career: a set of demos and live-in-the-studio material from 1984-5, and an Ardent (Memphis) session from 1989. You’ll either dig the group’s raggedy vocals or you won’t, but there’s no denying that they fit the music. Good stuff.


Game Theory – Blaze of Glory
Apparently, I’m not alone in having completely missed Game Theory when they were around. Though the group’s off-kilter brand of 80s powerpop certainly appeals to me now, there’s a modest, aw-shucks feel to most of the songs on the ironically-titled 1982 Blaze of Glory, crossing skinny-tie new wave aesthetics with quirky songs. Their debut album (like most of their subsequent output) has long been out of print; this Omnivore reissue adds a wealth of bonus material and the liner notes feature contributions from former members (leader Scott Miller passed away in 2013). Oh, and they remind me of Let’s Active.


The Dream Academy – The Morning Lasted All Day
Two CDs packed with 24 tracks might seem excessive for a retrospective on a group that scored a total of two hit singles (the lovely “Life in a Northern Town” from 1985, and a 1986 tune you probably don’t recall). They only released three albums. But their shimmering chamber-pop – championed by no less a light than Pink Floyd‘s David Gilmour – has worn quite well. The band’s original raison d’être was to create songs using unconventional (for rock) instrumentation. “The Edge of Forever” may not have charted, but it’s the best thing the band did, arguably superior to “Life.”


X – Under the Big Black Sun
By 1983, X hadn’t yet achieved a level of success that would translate into record sales. So they signed with Elektra and enlisted the production skills of The Doors‘ keyboardist Ray Manzarek. Manzarek may have seemed an odd choice: he wasn’t known as a producer, and his old band’s sound had little in common with the aesthetic of X. But it worked. Under the Big Black Sun presented the Johnny-and-June-styled vocal harmonies of John Doe and Exene Cervenka, along with the insistent punk drumming of DJ Bonebrake and Billy Zoom‘s wild-eyed rockabilly guitar. This reissue features five bonus tracks.


X – More Fun in the New World
By the time (1983) of this, their fourth LP, X had achieved some fame. Again working with Manzarek behind the boards, the band crafted a set of songs that sought to capture the excitement of their live show (the package’s reliance on live concert shots makes that goal more explicit). Overall, More Fun boasts a slightly more polished approach; the drums sound a bit “bigger,” and the whole affair feels a bit more radio-ready. Four demo tracks from the period (in remixed form) are appended to the original album’s thirteen songs. Still essential, as is Under the Big Black Sun.

15 more capsule reviews to come.

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November Hundred-word Reviews, Part 1

Monday, November 10th, 2014

Once again, it’s time for a run of hundred-word reviews. My inbox has been overflowing of late, and even after removing the material that I deem not worth my time (nor yours), I’m left with far too many discs to cover in my customary manner (500-800 word reviews). So herewith are twenty-five –count ‘em, twenty-five – brief, to-the-point reviews. The first five are reissues of albums originally released in the 1970s (with one late ’69 title slipped into the mix).


The Ides of March – Vehicle
You know the title song: it’s the one you were sure was by another, more well-known artist. “Vehicle” is the 70s answer to The Knickerbockers‘ “Lies.” And like Head East‘s Flat As a Pancake, hardly anyone has heard anything beyond the single. But the other tunes on this ten-track LP (newly reissued with four bonus tracks) show that this, er, Chicago-based band had a pretty wide breadth of style in their bag of tricks. Not all the tracks are horn-laden, either. Some interesting covers (CSN, Jethro Tull, Beatles) and some tasty lead guitar work make this album well worth re-discovering.


The 5th Dimension – Earthbound
After their string of hits, The 5th Dimension began to tire of their soul-meets-MOR formula. This album – long out of print – was an attempt to try something new. Commercially, it was largely a failure, yielding no hit singles and barely scraping the album charts. But this Jimmy Webb-produced album (with Larry Coryell on guitar!) is a surprisingly varied affair, with some gems waiting to be discovered. Though the opening title number is syrupy and mawkish, “Don’t Stop For Nothing” is some deep funk. And the group’s inventive reading of The Beatles‘ “I’ve Got a Feeling” is excellent. Groovy.


Ian Matthews – Stealin’ Home
Though he was a one-time member of Fairport Convention, on this solo LP – the most well-known of oh-so-many – Matthews is in soft-rock mode. The songs here sound like a softer version of Alan Parsons Project: flawlessly performed, arranged and recorded, full of catchy melodies. Nothing here rocks – not by a long shot – but nearly every track sounds as if could have been a radio hit in the late 70s (“Shake It” was indeed). Fans of that laid-back Southern California sound (see also: Fleetwood Mac, Stephen Bishop) will dig. A live ’78 concert adds nine bonus tracks.


Zephyr – Zephyr
The career of guitarist Tommy Bolin is looked upon as one of promise largely unfulfilled. His solo albums have some great moments, but remain spotty; his posthumous outtake collections show he had plenty of talent and ideas. This album – originally released in 1969 – is his earliest recorded effort. Though the group is sonically dominated by husband-and-wife duo David Givens (bass) and Candy Givens (histrionic, Janis Joplinesque vocals), Bolin does get the chance to strut his stuff on some lengthy numbers. If one can get past the vocals, Zephyr is a very good album in the Big Brother mold.


Renaissance – Scheherazade and Other Stories
Arguably, British “progressive” music has long drawn from a different set of influences than its North American counterpart. Renaissance built their music upon a foundation that was equal parts classical and European folk. With the five-octave voice of Annie Haslam as its central focus, the group made gentle yet ambitious music. Scheherazade remains the high water mark of the group’s 1970s output. This new reissue doesn’t add bonus tracks or liner notes; what it does instead is present the album in SACD format, an ideal move for a record that featured crystalline production (by the band themselves) to begin with.

20 more capsule reviews to come.

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Album Review: R.L. Burnside — Too Bad Jim

Thursday, October 30th, 2014

Here’s something that can be described as the sweet spot in a Venn diagram charting a curiosity, a history lesson, and an authentic modern-day reading of country blues. R.L. Burnside‘s Too Bad Jim – newly reissued on vinyl; more about that presently – sounds for all the world like a classic country blues session, the kind of thing Alan Lomax might have captured for the Smithsonian decades ago. Burnside’s delivery – vocal and guitar – is deeply redolent of Mississippi delta bluesmen of old (most notably Fred McDowell), but the production values are positively 21st century.

Which isn’t to say that Too Bad Jim has been gimmicked-up, akin to some sort of White Stripes dilettantism. No, Burnside is indeed the real deal. His blues tunes are true to the spirit of those old field recordings in that his blues is not confined to modern/commercial notions of how long each verse should be. In that he shares a sensibility with artists such as John Lee Hooker: Burnside uses the blues form more as a jumping off point than as a framework. He’s a bluesman, to be sure, but he bends the form to suit his needs. His electrified approach is supported on Too Bad Jim by the sparest of backing: this 1993 recording finds him joined only by bass and drums. Not only is their contribution simple and basic – keeping the spotlight where it belongs – but it’s relatively low in the mix.

And by “mix” I don’t wish to imply that Too Bad Jim has the sound of a multi-track studio recording. The sound is crystal clear and uncluttered, but it very much has the feel of one mic hanging from the ceiling (alongside perhaps a lone, naked incandescent lightbulb). There’s a late-night feel to the ten tracks on Too Bad Jim; that vibe pervades Burnside’s mix of originals, traditional numbers, and a cover of Hooker’s “When My First Life Left Me.” His original numbers – take “Short Haired Woman” for as good an example as any – could have been written ninety years ago, but in Burnside’s capable hands, the songs are timeless. His singing and playing is in turns heartfelt, impassioned, assured, and it’s always authentic.

Too Bad Jim was originally issued on the venerable Fat Possum label. A new subscription service called Vinyl Me Please featured Burnside’s second and highly regarded album as its October 2014 selection. Thick, sturdy heavyweight vinyl is packaged in a higher-gauge cardboard sleeve, along with a download card giving purchasers access to 320kbps (read: high quality) MP3 files. A nice foldout poster will evoke warm memories among those who came of age in vinyl’s 1970s heyday. As part of Vinyl Me Please’s good-natured approach, the package for Too Bad Jim also includes a recipe card for a relevant cocktail, in this case a variation on the Bloody Mary, one that was reputedly a favorite of Burnside’s.

With its monthly offerings, the Vinyl Me Please catalog explores a wide array of genres; the only unifying characteristic seems to be high quality.

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A Chat With The Turtles’ Mark Volman, Part 2

Tuesday, October 7th, 2014

Continued from Part One

Bill Kopp: I was ten when the film came out, and even though Dirty Duck was a cartoon, I wasn’t allowed to see that one. It got an X rating…

Mark Volman: Right! “Livin’ in the Jungle” came from that, and several others. “Get Away,” “This Could Be the Day,” an unreleased version of “Goodbye Surprise,” and “(You’re Nothing But a) Good Duck.” And another song we did called “Rollin’ in the Hay.” “Youth in Asia,” “Mystic Martha,” and “The Big Showdown.” Some of those were some sort of [Bruce] Springsteen stuff that we were messing around with. Those are all unheard material that we thought maybe we could add to make a Battle of the Bands reissue even more special. It would have a little more volume to it, instead of just being a 34-minute record. So we’ll see how that comes out.

It’s fun to dig into the archives. We haven’t really unearthed our old unreleased stuff the way that other artists have, because we didn’t feel that there was really that big of an audience for it.

Bill: I’m a big fan of the Flo & Eddie albums.

Mark: All of it is available. If you go onto The Turtles‘ site, you can buy albums one and two (The Phlorescent Leech & Eddie from 1972, and 1974′s Flo & Eddie) and albums three and four (1975′s Illegal, Immoral and Fattening and Moving Targets from 1976). We packaged the two Warner Brothers albums together, and the two Columbia ones together on CD. And online you can actually download the reggae album (1981′s Rock Steady with Flo & Eddie).

Bill: That one’s very, very hard to find on vinyl…

Mark: And it would be a hard one to pull together for a CD or vinyl release, because of all the song ownerships. But it hasn’t escaped us as a potential vinyl reissue. As well as The Crossfires! We did a CD reissue [of the pre-Turtles surf group], and one of our hopes is to do a vinyl reissue. Ultimately, the plan would be to do vinyl reissues of all of those, and then put them in a box set for sale in Europe. Because the fan base over there knows our history, because our connection to Frank Zappa.

The music of Flo & Eddie never, unfortunately, broke in America the way it did in Europe and internationally.

Bill: I was at a garage sale last summer, and I stumbled across a copy of the 1982 Checkpoint Charlie EP. The one where the record plays from the inside out.

Mark: What a fun record that was! You know what’s so funny, that record – as crazy as it was to do – we did it in an afternoon. We sold Rhino on the whole idea; not just spinning it backwards, but doing it using only kids’ toys. All the recorded instruments are just toys, stuff that a kid could own at the time. It was a hidden project for years. When Rhino finally put it out, it became kind of an underground thing. And listening to it today, we were really way ahead of what the curve was at that time, in terms of the whole electronic thing; it hadn’t really happened yet. We just did it as a one-time thing and then moved on to something else.

Same with the reggae album: we were just messing around with that, and then we found somebody to finance us going down there [to Jamaica]. Because we didn’t want ot do it with a bunch of musicians from California!

Bill: Howard has been quite bust the last several years, what with the My Dinner with Jimi film and his book with Jeff Tamarkin. Besides touring with Flo and Eddie and the Turtles, and teaching at Belmont University, what do you have going on these days?

Mark: I’m a full time professor. So I don’t really have a lot of extra time. This new box set has been about a twenty-four month consideration. Right now our Happy Together tours fill up summertime, so we really don’t have to do a whole lot of extra touring. This last year we did a show up in Bearsville NY, at the Performing Arts Center, with Dweezil Zappa. So we’re talking about maybe playing the music if his dad, and taking that overseas. So there’s all that, and we’re pushing these vinyl reissues now – we did the Happy Together and It Ain’t Me, Babe albums on vinyl just last year. And besides Battle of the Bands, we’re also looking at reissuing Turtle Soup on vinyl. And otherwise we’ll kind of lay low.

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A Chat with The Turtles’ Mark Volman, Part 1

Monday, October 6th, 2014

The TurtlesMark Volman and Howard Kaylan, aka Flo & Eddie – have worked tirelessly to regain the rights and control over their catalog; the latest fruit of their labor is a new 7-record box set containing 45rpm records. I spoke to Mark about that set, their larger plans of a vinyl reissue program, and a few of their lesser-known works. – bk

Bill Kopp: There’s something special about having Turtles music on vinyl. Just last year, FloEdCo reissued the Happy Together and It Ain’t Me, Babe albums on vinyl, and now there’s this set of 45s. After years of not having control over reissues, and seeing haphazard collections of your music coming out, how does it feel to be able to, shall we say, set things right?

Mark Volman: Well, of course that’s always been on our minds. There were so many outside deals that had been negotiated. We needed to clean up everything, and it took a long time. I would guess that some of the deals had to be attacked a lot more than others; some just had to kind of run out. But ultimately, to do things right, we wanted to get everything in-house. And that took a whole lot of years.

But vinyl has always been something that we loved, because we collect; both Howard and I are fans of vinyl. I’ve collected 45s and albums since the sixties. So having the ability to pull this stuff together for vinyl collectors has been really fun. We did the Greatest Hits; the 45s that we’re putting out are another version of that, but we wanted to do something in kind of a fun way. So we created a reproduction of the original way these came out: we used the colors of the label…

Bill: The deep blue labels are very reminiscent of the White Whale labels on the 60s records…

Mark: Yeah. And we wanted to include the “Turtles on 45” spindle in case people needed it. Everything about it was nearly done, and we got to the point where it’s going to be made available internationally. We’re really excited about it, though I don’t expect it to sell more than three, four, maybe five thousand copies.

For the last two years, we took a prototype of this package out on tour with us, and sold them. And those limited edition ones were in a little different package, and they were sold on our Happy Together tours. This upcoming summer, the fifty cities that we’ll hit, we’ll take out this new version. There’s a diehard fan base that stays with us through the years, and they just love it when we put together this kind of thing.

Bill: The one thing – and this isn’t a criticism, it’s a question – is that you didn’t include a set of liner notes, a booklet or anything. I wonder if that was a missed opportunity.

Mark: I think that The Turtles history is pretty intact online. If someone wanted to go online, they could read all about it. And every greatest-hits album that we’ve put out has had a little blurb or something. What we really did here was just focus on the records coming out. We weren’t really trying to reach a new audience as much as we were providing a new version for the older audience.

We didn’t want to do a booklet; we had our choice: we could have done six 45s and a booklet, or eight 45s. We felt it was more important to put the songs in there. And so rather than treat it like it was history, we presented it like it was new.

Bill: Are there any plans to reissue other Turtles music on vinyl? Maybe my favorite of The Turtles’ albums, The Turtles Present the Battle of the Bands?

Mark: Yes. In fact Howard and I entered into discussions about a couple of things. Battle of the Bands, definitely. But if we do that, we want to do it with all the visuals, and do a little bit more of a presentation. There’s also a second Battle of the Bands record that Howard and I have assembled, which includes a lot of music that was never released. That includes some of the things that Howard and I did for movies. We wrote original songs for some movies back in the 70s. And we called it Battle of the Bands just so we had a way to refer to it. So what we’re considering is repackaging Battle of the Bands on vinyl, but with a second record. There’s stuff from the motion picture The Dirty Duck

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Honeymoon Hundred-word Reviews, Part 1

Monday, September 29th, 2014

I’m on my honeymoon this week, so I thought it would be a good time to offer up some backlog-clearing entries in my occasional series of Hundred Word Reviews. And though the musical styles are all over the map, there’s a theme of sorts this time: each of the acts reviewed has been covered previously, either via review or feature/interview.

Today’s three are all new reissues of previously-released albums.


Rick Wakeman – White Rock
Another in the keyboard virtuoso’s steady stream of 70s album releases, this is Wakeman’s official soundtrack for the 1976 Winter Olympics. This one is all instrumental, featuring only Wakeman and a bit of percussion on some tracks. No mucking about with singing or guitars, and precious little choir either. With the exception of the somewhat pedestrian “blues” of the title track, it’s lovely, varied, evocative music that shows the once and future Yes keyboardist’s skills as composer, arranger and musician. Those digging this may also enjoy Real Gone Music‘s reissue of Wakeman’s 1977 Criminal Record (I wrote the liner notes).


Cass Elliot – Don’t Call Me Mama Anymore
To me, the music of The Mama’s and the Papa’s always leaned in a wide-appeal direction, the kind of thing you parents wouldn’t hate. And that’s not a bad thing. On this, Cass’ final release, she lays bare her ambition to be an all-around entertainer. Backed by a crack band including Joe Osborn and Jim Gordon, she’s the singing star of a very successful show, working her way through a nice mix of showbizzy tunes on this soundtrack from her 1973 CBS-TV special. Her delightful reading of Paul McCartney’s “My Love” is a highlight. Bonus tracks make it even better.


John Wetton and Richard Palmer-James – Jack Knife/Monkey Business
This interesting gap-filling release is a 2CD set documents the work that bassist/vocalist John Wetton did through the 1970s with musical partner (and sometime King Crimson lyricist) Richard Palmer-James. Though dated in places, it holds up well. Some of the playing is quite fiery; Palmer-James is an unexpectedly good guitarist. Some tracks are mere snippets (“Starless 1,” “Starless 2”) and as such aren’t nearly as interesting as their titles might suggest, and a couple of late 90s tracks are merely okay, but the package overall is recommended to progressive rock fans who don’t mind the more commercial side of things.

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Album Review: Bombadil — Tarpits and Canyonlands

Friday, September 26th, 2014

With a slightly more arty take on the approach favored by bands like Fleet Foxes, on Tarpits and Canyonlands, Durham NC-based Bombadil crafts a music that feels like equal parts Americana, baroque art-pop, and quirky Van Dyke Parks-styled worldAmericana. Metallic-sounding tack piano forms the centerpiece of many of the disc’s arrangements, but out-front vocal harmonies figure largely in the group’s sound, too.

But before you start thinking that Tarpits and Canyonlands is some sort of bandwagon-jumping exercise designed to glom on to the success of Fleet Foxes and their ilk, consider this: the album was originally released back in 2009, upon which it sank with nary a trace. A number of serious setbacks contributed to the album’s failure-to-launch, but the most serious setback occurred when band member Daniel Michalak (“considered the band’s driving force,” sayeth the press kit) was waylaid with a serious – and incapacitating – medical condition called neural tension. So despite some early positive reviews, Bombadil disappeared from sight, taking the promise of Tarpits and Canyonlands with them.

After five years(!) of treatment of most ever kind, Michalak started to get better. But things went slowly…very slowly. In 2012 Bombadil finally took to the road for a tour, which went well.

Well, now it’s 2014. Earlier this year the band – rightly convinced of the quality of their largely overlooked 2009 album – reissued Tarpits and Canyonlands. But they didn’t simply burn up a stack of CDs. Oh, no: Tarpits and Canyonlands has been given the most lavish reissue/repackage one can imagine. A sprawling 2LP vinyl set comes housed in the sturdiest gatefold sleeve I’ve ever seen, complete with artwork and extra goodies that border on the precious. But for a standout album of its quality, the lavish treatment makes sense.

The band’s baroque Americana somehow feels warmer and less stilted than (gotta mention ‘em again) Fleet Foxes; there’s something up close and personal about the production values that makes the whole affair seem, well, friendlier. Yawning cellos lean up against gently picked acoustic guitars; odd bits of distorted guitar rub uncomfortably against martial snare drum blasts; the net effect is difficult to classify, but worth the time spent unwrapping its charms.

In connection with the reissue, Bombadil returned to the road; the next several weeks will see the band take a southern swing, with October dates in Ohio, then Virginia, two dates in their home state of North Carolina, two in Georgia (Atlanta and Athens, natch), and three in Tennessee (Gatlinburg, Nashville, and Knoxville.

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Album Review: Jethro Tull — A Passion Play: An Extended Performance

Wednesday, September 24th, 2014

Unlike, say, Creedence Clearwater Revivial – or even The BeatlesJethro Tull have rarely been anyone’s idea of a “singles group.” As the leading folk-prog group of the rock era, the Ian Anderson-led group released a steady line of albums, one a year from 1968-80. And many of those did spawn a single: seven of the group’s 45s in that period charted in the USA, and five made the UK charts. (There’s little overlap in those two lists, suggesting that Tull’s appeal was quite different to American and British audiences.)

But of course, from a commercial point of view (and an artistic one, as well), albums and singles are aimed at different segments of the listening audiences. While the group’s 1973 album A Passion Play spawned only one single (“A Passion Play” [edit 8] b/w “A Passion Play” [edit 9]), and it reached only the lower rungs of the charts in the USA (and Germany), the album itself was a number-one hit stateside. Some of that success could be down to its following on the heels of the band’s biggest success, the previous year’s Thick as a Brick. And like that record, A Passion Play is designed as a single piece of music, designed to be taken as a whole.

In 2003, a CD version of A Passion Play was released; it included a bonus video track, but otherwise offered no new tracks. Now in 2014, Chrysalis has released a sprawling, four-disc set, filled with goodies.

The first disc features the original A Passion Play album but it’s been given a new stereo remix by Porcupine Tree‘s Steven Wilson; Wilson has previously performed his stellar remix work on catalog items from King Crimson and Caravan, as well as on other Tull albums. Wilson has a knack – no doubt aided by modern technology that simply didn’t exist back in the 70s – for bringing out previously buried sonic elements in these forty-year-old tapes. In some cases, it’s a matter of limitations on the number of available tracks back in the 1970s; artists would often fill up the multitracks, then “mix down” to fewer tracks, then continue. The result would effective set in stone the early parts of the mix, and each “bounce” caused a slight (but noteworthy) loss in fidelity.

With today’s digital technology, the number of tracks is limited only by the size of the studio’s hard drive (in practical terms, that’s limitless). So Wilson is able to go back to all of the first-generation discrete tracks for each instrument, vocal and sound effect (when the tracks are available) and construct a new mix using all first-generation audio signals. Add his talent, creativity and keen ear, and the results are fantastic.

The sessions that yielded what we now know as A Passion Play were in fact the second attempt that Anderson and his bandmates made at a followup to Thick as a Brick. In 1973 Jethro Tull decamped to Château D’Hérouville studios and recorded a full album’s worth of material; ultimately it was not used. For this expanded reissue of A Passion Play, Steven Wilson has constructed a new remix based on those sessions; this material fills the second CD in the set.

As was done on other Wilson remixes, this set also includes the material in higher bitrate, in a number of formats. The third disc – a region-free DVD – features Wilson’s A Passion Play remix in DTS 96/24 5.1 Surround; Dolby Digital AC3 5.1 Surround; and 96/24 PCM. You’ll need a DVD-A-compatible player to read that data, of course. And quite honestly, you’ll need ears not damaged by decades of loud rock’n'roll to appreciate Wilson’s work in full; to me, it all certainly sounds splendid, but I imagine that there’s a lot I’m unable to hear.

The third disc also includes some related video content: a music video for A Passion Play‘s “The Story of the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles,” and film footage used onstage during Jethro Tull’s concerts in support of the album. The fourth disc gives the Château D’Hérouville sessions the same high-bitrate treatment.

The entire affair is packaged in a hardcover book (roughly the size of an old Hardy Boys mystery) and includes an expansive 80-page booklet. In addition to Wilson’s notes on the remixes, a lengthy and enlightening essay from Martin Webb (based on interviews with the players on the sessions), there are various other bits of photos, clippings, quotes and the like. The compilers have endeavored to create an “ultimate” version of Jethro Tull’s 1973 work product, and they’ve succeeded on most every level.

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