Cynics tired of the RHCP’s act say they’re running on fumes. Yes, well then what accounts for the remarkable success of this album, packed with the band’s usual rap/rock/funk mix? That’s an easy question to answer. It’s reliably hard, funky, powerful, spare and big. It goes down easy but still engages.

Riverside issued this Charlie Byrd album in 1960, two years before his collaboration with Stan Getz on the classic Jazz Samba (Verve V6-8432), which has been reissued by both DCC Compact Classics and Speakers Corner (still in print, I believe).



Based in Washington D.C. for much of his career, Byrd gigged around town with his trio featuring bassist Keter Betts and drummer Buddy Deppenschmidt and used a local recording facility, Edgewood Studios, to record this set.

This obscure little 1967 instrumental gem rescued from the dustbins of antiquity by Sundazed featuring guitarist Earl Hooker backed by an anonymous group of musicians including a drummer, bassist, organist, sax player and perhaps a rhythm guitarist, or Hooker’s overdubbing himself, is nothing more than a series of funky jams that show off Hooker’s unique curlicue guitar twanging style.

Forget the Van Gogh-like cover. There’s nothing crazy going on here, or perhaps these four guys just wanted to subliminally suggest that you lend an ear. I’m glad I did.



Not only is the mostly acoustic music smartly turned out, it’s exceptionally well recorded for an indie project, with lots of non-studio room sound (and even a cricket) adding a warming ambience, however it was captured in Nashville, where analog recording remains valued.

Rosanne Cash’s moving, sometimes mysterious tribute to her late parents and step-mother June Carter Cash was, for me, last year’s most profound and affecting album. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t sat down to write about it until this year.



Despite the title, and the potential for morbidity and worse, triteness, Cash manages to explore loss, spirituality and the unknown with sensitivity and gentle resignation. Her sadness is expressed without seeking pity and the intimacy of her thoughts are exposed without discomfort or greeting card sentimentality.

The production, arrangements and recording are strictly decent (but clean and well crafted) demo-quality, the drummer boat-anchors the tunes behind the beat—he’s no Ringo—and with tunes such as “You’re Like Lead” (you’re always bringing me down), and “Rubber Soul,” and with an album title like Love Is Not Enough (get it?) you have to wonder if these guys are doing Beatles or Rutles.

This year\\'s (2006) showing of this 1965 animated special drew a huge audience. I don\\'t have the numbers but I think it beat everything in its time slot.



The music has held up equally well, beginning with Guaraldi\\'s startlingly melancholic take on "Oh Tannenbaum," which shocked an America used to nothing but overblown musical good cheer. Even "Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer," a sad story if there ever was one, was a chipper tune.

“Tastes good on th’ bun” are all the lyrics you get on “Tastes Good on th’ Bun,” the opening tune, of the Ween brothers’ new collection of closet clutterers and leftovers. There’s a tune called “Big Fat Fuck.” Can you guess the lyrics? Close. Add “Feelin’ like a” and you’ve got it.

This album is called Shinola Vol. 1. If this is their “shinola” can you imagine what kind of shit they’re capable of dishing? Ah, but I kid the Ween brothers, who aren’t really brothers but a weissguy from New Jersey and his weeny friend who go by the names of “Gene” and “Dean” Wean.

When this arrived I stated the obvious to myself “Why would I want to hear Dion sing the blues?” I can hear Robert Johnson do his own tunes, I can hear them “rock-a-fied” to great effect on any number of albums from the 1960’s, I can hear other blues greats, from Mississippi John Hurt to Howlin’ Wolf to Lightnin’ Hopkins, singing their originals and covers, some superbly recorded, and generally I was so down on this disc that I played it more to see how awful and/or pointless it was.

Sundazed has just released the first five Byrds albums cut from the original mono master tapes, which didn't see that much action when new and haven't seen much since. Thus the sound on this first one has a chance of being positively stupendous and it is.

Mobile Fidelity has jumped on the mono bandwagon as well with a hybrid SACD that includes the mono mix as well as six bonus tracks, some in mono and some in stereo.