Veteran blues guitarist Walter Trout is obviously well known within blues circles and among blues fans I asked, but the name doesn’t elicit much of a response outside the blues core.
The Irish folk/pop singer Mary Black, a genuine superstar at home, has built a worldwide following on the strength of her mesmerizing, crystal clear voice and an uncanny ability to wring every drop of meaning from the lyrics she interprets.
The merger of Sony Music and BMG combined two of the world’s great film music catalogs, offering the potential for a truly exceptional film score compilation. This isn’t it. Instead this piece of shit excuse for an “essential” film score package is indicative of everything that’s wrong with the music business today. It lists for $25.00.
Note: the impeccably packaged double 180g vinyl set just out (late November, '06), while still lacking top end shimmer and air, exudes an overall clarity, transparency and three dimensionality that leaves the CD far behind. And the bottom end rocks. The vinyl gets an "8" for sound
Though it commences with “Saving Grace,” a John Lee Hooker crawlin’ king snake-riffed rocker, there’s less confrontation and more contemplation on Tom Petty’s tune-soaked new solo album. The “I Won’t Back Down” Petty of Full Moon Fever is gone, replaced by a more accepting, older observer of time and terrain passing.
These songs will be familiar to you if you attended a “socialist” summer camp during the 1950’s and/or 1960’s. I did. What’s a “socialist” summer camp? It’s roughly defined as one that had an on staff guitar and banjo-playing Pete Seeger following pre-Hippie collegiate or “long hair.”
Issued in 1982 as the couple were going through a painful divorce, Richard and Linda Thompson’s Shoot Out The Lights became an immediate critic’s “must have” album. Despite the wildly enthusiastic world-wide press and the couple’s brave decision to tour in support of the album despite their personal acrimony, it was never a big seller.
Better late than never to discover this family of fanciful, faith-based music makers living in Clarksburg, New Jersey, a small hamlet located between Trenton and Point Pleasant on the New Jersey shore.
Former Kinks frontman Ray Davies’ fans are among the most fan-atic in rock. I found out the hard way when I dared to post a less than fawning review of an Irving Plaza show I attended last spring on a Kinks fan newsgroup that I joined.
This album of analog (or analog sounding) bleeps, blops and buzzes, backed by a drum track apparently created from real skins by Mr. Hebden, has an organic, hypnotic, soothing quality that many will find attractive.