Music Review

Shemekia Copeland: The Soul Truth (Alligator)

Shemekia CopelandShemekia Copeland, daughter of bluesman Johnny Copeland, followed in her father’s footsteps for her first few albums, but with this release she’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 haven’t heard of him, at least you’ve probably seen him in the Blues Brothers: he’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 there’s soul oozing from every track. This was a direction Copeland was already moving in, so it’s no surprise.

McCoy Tyner: Passion Dance (Milestone)

Passion DanceThis 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. I’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 “Moment’s Notice,” a Coltrane tune played with explosive energy.

My Morning Jacket: Z (Ato/BMG)

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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.

Bill Evans: The Complete Village Vanguard Recordings, 1961 (Riverside)

EvansWhen 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.

Bob Dylan: No Direction Home: The Soundtrack (Columbia Legacy)

dylanThis is the soundtrack to the new Martin Scorsese film, just shown on PBS, that focuses on Dylan’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 – although not all – of what’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 what’s called “most likely the first original song recorded by” Dylan, “When I Got Troubles,” fascinating for the way Dylan sings in a sweeter, less cutting voice.

Portastatic: Bright Ideas (Merge)

PortastaticSuperchunk 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 there’s sometimes a hint of more serious things in Mac’s lyrics. Anyone who’s a fan of chirpy, melodic indie-pop can put this on repeat play and be happily entertained for hours. - Steve Holtje

Jazz's Holy Grail!

monkThelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane: At Carnegie Hall (Blue Note)

There's a lot of hype for this recently unearthed (at the Library of Congress) Voice of America tape of two short sets as part of a November 29, 1957 benefit. It may sound like exaggeration. But not when you hear the music. Background: Thelonious Monk was one of the harmonic architects of bebop, yet never fully a bopper himself, too original and rhythmically idiosyncratic to fit into what became sleekly formulized.

Austerity Styles

lamentateArvo Pärt: Lamentate (ECM)

Estonian composer Arvo Pärt (born in 1935; he turned 70 on Sept. 11) has found considerable success with his austere style. After first gaining notice as a Serialist composer incorporating stylistic collage, he took two sabbaticals, partly because the Soviet government approved of neither his Serial tendencies nor his religiousity, partly to rethink his style. Starting in 1976, he pioneered a lean, meditative style he dubbed Tintinnabuli (think of lots of bells chiming).

Von Iva: Live at Cake Shop, NYC, 14th September 2005

VON IVASome people still think that rock and roll is a boys’ game. Women have always made rock music, but they’re often stereotyped, trivialized, or badly marketed while they’re doing their best work, and quickly forgotten when they leave the public eye. There are a few moments that stand out in this history, however, moments when women have created songs or performances so transcendently rock that they can’t be forgotten. My personal list includes Joan Jett singing “You Don’t Own Me,” Patti Smith singing “Gloria,” Tori Amos grinding on her piano bench while snapping, “So you can make me cum, it doesn’t make you Jesus,” and Kathleen Hanna working the stage topless, with “slut” scrawled across her chest.