Wooing jazz listeners with thrillingly intimate deliveries of standards and surprises for over three decades, Shirley Horn secured a spot high in the jazz pantheon long before she died last month. Not only a superb singer, she was also an excellent pianist who prefered to accompany herself and did so once she'd gotten it through record producers' heads that that format allowed her to communicate best with her audiences.
I'm late in reviewing this, but I wouldn't want to deprive improvised music lovers of notice of this truly great album. Multi-instrumentalist Yusef Lateef, one of the amazing musical innovators of the past four decades, fully deserves his own genre (he dislikes the connotations of "jazz" and has dubbed what he does "autophysiopsychic music") because he crosses all other style boundaries; he once won a Grammy in the New Age category -- for a symphony -- and had to ask what New Age was! Lateef has been working with percussionist Adam Rudolph for about a decade now, and in their collaborations they seem to consistently inspire each other to the most exquisite heights of improvisational imagination.
The word "genius" is severely overused, but if Jon Brion hasnâ€™t earned it, no one has. He composes movie scores, produces records, plays every instrument that you can imagine (heâ€™s contributed notable guest performances to records by Beck and Elliott Smith), and has released an album of original material. His talent is enviably flexible, but everything that he does bears the mark of his original and distinctive sensibility; his work is always marked by a lush, ornate, retro atmosphere, catchy riffs played on antique instruments, and a delicate balance between wit and sadness. It's the sort of music that makes you feel nostalgic the first time you hear it. Whether you know it or not, you've heard Brion play, and you may be an unconscious fan.
Shemekia Copeland, daughter of bluesman Johnny Copeland, followed in her fatherâ€™s footsteps for her first few albums, but with this release sheâ€™s slid into the adjacent genre on the musical spectrum: Southern soul. The disc is produced by Stax-Volt legend Steve Cropper of Booker T & the MGs (kids, if you havenâ€™t heard of him, at least youâ€™ve probably seen him in the Blues Brothers: heâ€™s the guitarist), who also plays on all but one track. Add the Muscle Shoals Horns on seven of the eleven tracks, plus keyboards (especially organ) from Felix Cavaliere (Rascals) Chuck Leavell, etc., a rock-solid rhythm section anchored by Steve Potts or Chester Thompson on drums, plus Copeland herself, and thereâ€™s soul oozing from every track. This was a direction Copeland was already moving in, so itâ€™s no surprise.
This was the first McCoy Tyner album I bought, on the recommendation of my friend Josh Bloch, a couple decades ago when I was just starting to explore jazz beyond the superstars. Iâ€™d heard Tyner playing on recordings with one of those superstars, of course (John Coltrane), but his style had changed since then. Well, this recording (with bassist Ron Carter and drummer Tony Williams on two of its five tracks) from a Tokyo festival on July 28, 1978 certainly convinced me of his merits away from the older context.
The album opens with the trio on â€œMomentâ€™s Notice,â€ a Coltrane tune played with explosive energy.
The songs that My Morning Jacket create, set against lush pastoral backdrops, have always been infused with something beautiful and serious and notoriously impossible to categorize. Their earlier full-length recordings, Tennessee Fire and At Dawn -- this reviewer is an avid fan of both -- were songs hung loosely, then held together in a delicate fashion by Jim James's reverberating vocals, the yearning poetry within each song, and the band's ability to extend songs into instrumental meanderings without losing their structural integrity. And while this latest release -- Z (ATO/RCA/BMG) -- is certainly a well-made rock record and may please some with its smoothed-out production and electronic dabblings, it's an unfortunate step down from the band's earlier sensitivity. No poetry and whiskey here, rather a washboard approach to the songwriting and sound that doesn't do the band proper justice.
When I reviewed the most recent Paul Motian Trio album awhile back here on CultureCatch.com, while putting his career in context I of course made reference to his time in the Bill Evans Trio, especially the edition with bassist Scott LaFaro. And now here comes a three-CD set compiling everything extant from their peak moment: June 25, 1961, "live," just ten days before the tragic death of LaFaro in a car crash.
This is the soundtrack to the new Martin Scorsese film, just shown on PBS, that focuses on Dylanâ€™s rise to fame. With some slight adjustments, Columbia has turned it into Volume 7 of its Bootleg Series of Dylan rarities; which it fits well since all but two of its tracks are previously unreleased (at least officially; bootleg collectors will be familiar with much â€“ although not all â€“ of whatâ€™s here).
Disc one is acoustic performances, mostly solo, including recordings made before Dylan moved to New York. It reaches all the way back to 1959 for whatâ€™s called â€œmost likely the first original song recorded byâ€ Dylan, â€œWhen I Got Troubles,â€ fascinating for the way Dylan sings in a sweeter, less cutting voice.
Superchunk frontman/Merge head honcho Mac McCaughan reactivates his side project for another perky album of power pop a la Big Star (and acolytes such as The Apples in Stereo, the Elephant 6 scene, etc.). The chiming, jangling guitar sound (plus melodica on one track!) and stuffy-headed vocals mostly stick to the charmingly sunny side of things, although thereâ€™s sometimes a hint of more serious things in Macâ€™s lyrics. Anyone whoâ€™s a fan of chirpy, melodic indie-pop can put this on repeat play and be happily entertained for hours. - Steve Holtje