Compilations are an ugly concept on vinyl. Either analog copy tapes have been strung together to create a cutting master or digital copies of masters are electronically assembled to produce the same cutting master. Once in a black and blue moon, original masters are removed from their reels and strung together to produce cutting masters made from original master tapes, but those are few and few between and almost impossible to make. They’re rare because few companies allow precious masters to be cut up and because unless the tunes were recorded in the same studio on the same impeccably maintained recorder, it’s very difficult if not impossible to cut a lacquer where the record/playback head’s azimuth changes from track to track.
Imagine a hard bop jam session featuring three tenor sax greats: Johnny Griffin, Hank Mobley and John Coltrane. Add Lee Morgan on trumpet and propel them with the rhythm section of Wynton Kelly on piano, Paul Chambers on bas and Art Blakey on drums.
Euphoria Jazz is a division of Bob Irwin's Sundazed. Sundazed licensed this and other Dawn Records jazz titles from Shout Factory, itself a division of Retropolis LCC. Shout Factory is a recent entity created by Richard Foos, an original founder of Rhino (along with Harold Bronson).
21st Century Procol Harum neglect is one of our time's most serious musical scandals if you axe me. That it took until now to get a high quality reissue of this most excellent album, while other less stellar records are one their 3rd or 4th reissue is a leading indicator of the neglect and lack of appreciation for this super group.
After the messy "supergroup" hype surrounding Blind Faith—more a one-off money maker than a group formed to last—Eric Clapton decided to downplay his fame and so was born in 1970 Derek and the Dominoes and the Layla... double LP that initially flopped. Many people today forget that, but flop it did. It didn't help that it was a costly double LP by an "unknown" group.
It's a bit late in the day to write a review of the music on this album, which concerns itself mostly with how the music business chews up musicians with dreams and spits them out—not that Syd Barrett, the subject of "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" was done in by the business.
AnalogPlanet editor Michael Fremer is not a classical music authority. If you didn't know that before watching this frantic, somewhat shallow video, you will after!
Petra Haden, the very talented daughter of bassist Charlie Haden, and former member of That Dog has released an a cappella version of The Who Sells Out that is charming, entertaining, ingenious and loads of fun.
It seems strange that someone who doesn’t even want to be part of this generation has become the voice of it. Jack White could care less about reality TV, George Bush, or the Boston Red Sox. Jack lives in a bygone era where Orson Welles and Rita Heyworth are the new stars, and Robert Johnson, Blind Willie McTell, and Dolly Parton represent the avant-garde.
I’ve heard and read complaints about the unadventurous reissues coming from Analogue Productions, especially now that the parent company Acoustic Sounds owns its own pressing plant, Quality Record Pressing.
Why am I reviewing a CD???? The answer(s) are easy. Firstly, this loving tribute to Les Paul featuring longtime trio cohort Lou Pallo and others with whom Les played at Fat Tuesdays and the Iridium is musically fabulous assuming you like the timeless "old school" style.
From the second the stylus hits the…er I mean the laser hits the pits, you'll know this is a stunning sounding live recording of a jazz trio. You'll feel as if you're in the Up Over Jazz Café, where this set was brilliantly recorded by Kato Hideki.
In retrospect it’s easy to understand why these superstars would want to write and perform this codger-esque novelty stuff under assumed names. They must have figured that while writing and singing this lighthearted fare inspired by the music of their formative years was fun, they were hardly washed up artists and had more greatness within waiting to pour forth.
The term “singer/songwriter” hadn’t yet been coined when the “hotter’n a depot stove” 29 year-old songwriter Willie Nelson stepped into the studio to record his debut album for Liberty Records. Back then, you were either a songwriter or a singer, though of course there were a very few who were both. Here, Nelson proves he was one of them
Does anyone alive sell a song as effortlessly and convincingly as Willie Nelson? Maybe Tony Bennett, and I'm sure there are a few others. Johnny Cash did it with Willie's brand of clarity and economy.