Michael Fremer

That’s how they spell “hippie” in the UK, I guess, so don’t blame me. Sherwood is a well-respected re-mix artist who’s spent the past twenty years re-mixing or producing the work of others. This danceable double LP, saturated with rhythmic collages, melds dub-style reggae, old school Jamaican “toasting,” Pakistani Qawwal, and a potpouri of other world musical paraphernailia—heavily spiced with sound effects and musique concrete—into a delicious and nutritious sonic stew.

I'm not sure how many Roy Orbison completists are out there. I know two: myself and my friend Frank Doris. Classic has issued Orbison's Crying in both mono and stereo and a good case can be made for either edition, once the case has been made for the music, which is a bit of a more difficult proposition.

With heartfelt help and support from his friends, Warren Zevon's musical sendoff is like a good funeral: a mixture of tears, laughter, fond remembrances, and in the end, a celebration of a life worth living, and one that obviously touched both those close at hand, and those seated in the audience.

The Tracking Angle Interview: Los Lobos- America's Band

By Michael Fremer

The goodies were stacked on a big table in the corner of the stars' dressing room: an industrial size sack of M&M Peanuts, big bags of Herr's tortilla and potato chips, a jar of Pace brand Thick and Chunky Salsa, fresh fruit, a ten pack of Kellogg's cereals, a plate of muffins, a cheese, tomato and deli platter, jars of Hellman's mayonnaise and Grey Poupon mustard, and some local color- loaves of Stroehmann's Pennsylvania Dutch and white bread and a big red box of Ivins' "Famous Spiced Wafers."

"Did the Los Lobos guys really ask for Pace salsa in a jar? Or did the Electric Factory people figure the beaners would expect it? If Al Kooper plays there do they put out knishes and Cel-Ray tonic?," I'm thinking. I was hungry, but I wasn't going to help myself to the band's food. If I couldn't eat it, I'd memorize it, which I did. And I waited. And waited.