Album Reviews

While hard-bop tenor saxophonist Booker Ervin’s best known work was with Charles Mingus and his later Prestige albums are regarded as the hub of his solo recordings, this 1961 Candid set offers plenty of muscular grit, superb Nola Penthouse sound and the stellar backing trio of George Tucker on bass, Al Harewood on drums and one “Felix Krull” on piano, most likely a Nat Hentoff-assigned name given to Horace Parlan who was contracted to Blue Note at the time. In fact, Tucker and Harewood were part of Parlan’s quartet, as was Ervin for a spell.

If you want to know what the early 1960’s felt like, listen to this lushly and dramatically orchestrated Sinatra, bathed in opulent, moonlit reverb and surrounded by cushiony strings spread out on an impossibly huge, wide and deep soundstage.

Two fascinating and enlightening new, concurrent Frank Zappa live albums come from the spring of 1980, an underexplored period of his career when he toured with a somewhat stripped-down reinvention of his touring group. The 2LP Zappa ’80 Mudd Club set was recorded near the start of the tour on Zappa’s beloved Nagra reel-to-reel analog portable in the storied, tiny New York club, while the 3LP Zappa ’80 Munich release is Frank’s very first all-digital live recording of the same band at the end of the tour, as captured in a huge German arena. Read on to see how Mark Smotroff feels both recordings stack up in the ever-expanding Zappa-on-vinyl catalog. . .

A straight-ahead, often fast-paced blowing session led by Plas Johnson, a versatile alto and tenor saxophonist who’s been heard by tens of millions, but known by very few. The theme from the “Pink Panther” includes Johnson’s most famous sax lines, but he’s played sessions for Frank, Peggy, Nat, Ella, Sarah, Ray, you first-name them.

Elvis in the army meant no new albums or singles from the King so RCA producers raided the vaults to put together this album and A Date With Elvis (LPM-2011).

Graham Parker kissed off his label with an album called Mercury Poisoning. Van Morrison owed one to Bert Berns' Bang label. Berns had died but Van, who had had a volatile relationship with Bert and was anxious to go to Warner Brothers and record Astral Weeks, handed his grieving widow Eileen an unreleasable album containing the ten songs and the publishing rights thereto. The songs—actually a series of short ridiculous and nonsensical jams— had titles like "Blow In Your Nose," "Nose in Your Blow," and "Ringworm."