Month: February 2004

This is jazz guitarist Mike Stern’s first album featuring vocalists, hence the title. Yet these are not songs of heartfelt, poetic lyrics. Rather, the voices are used as instruments, carrying the melody line, bopping along with the bass, and harmonizing with Stern’s omnipresent guitar.

It’s a fascinating experiment. Stern is joined by vocalists Richard Bona of Cameroon, Jon Herington, Elizabeth Kontomanou, and Arto Tuncboyaciyan, as well as a solid band of drums, saxes, keyboards, and bass. And the result is a multilayered dialogue between instruments of all kinds, creating the power of an orchestra.

Some might dub this Stern’s “world music” album due to the Africa influences of some of the vocalists and Stern’s own compositions. Others may wonder how Stern steered off on this course after his tour-de-force album, Standards (And Other Songs) from ’92 featuring his modern reworkings of classic jazz songs.

The answer is simply that Stern is a guitarist and composer with depth who seeks to build his repertoire and grow as an artist. This is an album of jazz fused with World music that brings out the best in both.

Even young prodigies eventually grow up. Mandolin whiz Chris Thile has reached the ripe old age of 20, and shows no signs of narrowing his ever-expanding musical horizons. His latest, Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost, is described by Bryan Sutton (one of the principle guitarists on the album) as “modern acoustic/neo-chamber music.” Sounds about right.

On this album, Thile determinedly expands the working definitions of both musical virtuosity and melodic structure.

Unlike many virtuosos, whose music veers off into a netherworld of technically challenging but musically vapid compositions, Thile’s tunes are catchy. The opening number “Song for a Young Queen” (penned for Natalie Portman) is infectious enough to winnow its way into your head and get stuck there. “Club G.R.O.S.S,” the most hardcore jazz tune on the CD, still manages to swing, with Jeff Coffin’s tenor sax trading “fours” with Chris.

The award for most rhythmically and melodically complex selection goes to “Riddles after Dark,” a duet that features Bela Fleck’s banjo and Thile’s mandolin spiraling and jousting through 3:24 of seemingly endless themes, variations, and contrapuntal harmonies.

Joining Thile on Not All… are A-list acoustic sidemen. Stuart Duncan and Sara Watkins play fiddle, Jerry Douglas is on dobro, Bryan Sutton and Sean Watkins handle guitar chores, Fleck is banjoist, Edgar Meyer and Byron House perform bass duties, and Jerry Coffin plays tenor sax for one song.

Thile not only composed every tune on Not All…, but served as its producer, as well. Gary Paczosa was both the recording engineer and co-mixer along with Chris.

Audiophile legend Doug Sax, from The Mastering Lab, put on the finishing sonic touches. The sound is simply impeccable.

My wife hates most jazz. Even classics like “Kind of Blue” leave her cold, but Not All… got both her thumbs up on first listen. Here is complex, musically innovative music that is still euphonic and accessible. Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost is among the most musically essential releases of 2001.

The Classic Albums video is a treat for Dan fans too. It features current interviews with Fagen and Becker and some great talk with players on this 1976 classic. You get to hear from Larry Carlton, Chuck Rainey, Bernard “Pretty” Purdie, Rick Marotta, Dean Parks and even original Dan member Denny Dias, who despite having left the music field to work in computers, plays some wonderful guitar while being interviewed.

Fagen and Becker do some studio work separating tracks from the original masters, and that’s fascinating. You’re bound to smile when they isolate the bass line from “Black Crow” and Fagen starts rapping “Deja Vu” by Lord Tang and Peter Gunz, who sampled the lick for a rap hit.

You also hear Dan studio helpers Roger Nichols and Gary Katz. Plus journalists and musicians lan Dury and Andy Gill make appearances to talk about the band. This is a great video if you’re a fan. There are some annoying aspects to it, too. Silly shots of the “new” band in concert from the ’70s. All in all, this is a treasure trove for a band that was once known for its reclusiveness. Check ’em both out. After all, they finally have been elected to that damn hall of fame.

If it’s true that one’s personality is revealed through one’s music, then Ike Turner is probably every bit the lowdown, badass motor-scooter his reputation implies. And on this collection of rockin’ blues instrumentals from 1954 to ’64, he attacks his Stratocaster with a viciousness unmatched by anyone before or since.

Ike may or may not be responsible for the “first” rock and roll record – 1951’s “Rocket 88” by Turner sideman Jackie Brenston, according to many genre historians (debatable, since Fats Domino, for one, had already established his style and recorded as far back as ’49) – and he may or may not have been the Svengali who made Tina Turner the dynamo she is. But one thing is undeniable: the man was a peerless bandleader and an extremely gifted guitarist. Whammy bar in hand, he was capable of strangling any number of squalls and snarls from his Fender, and he had an uncanny knack for catchy hooks, not unlike Freddie King. But with its ice-pick-in-the-forehead treble and freight-train groove, “Prancin’” (recorded in ’54 under the name “Icky Renrut”) makes Freddie, Albert Collins, and Johnny “Guitar” Watson sound like Spyro Gyra. The only players who come close to this level of reckless abandon are Mickey Baker and Wild Jimmy Spruil.

“The Rooster” and “Going Home” (both from ’62) reveal that Turner had his ear pressed to the radio when Duane Eddy came on. But “Trackdown Twist” (from the same sessions), with its wide bends, whammy shakes, and rapid vibrato, is reminiscent of Buddy Guy or Otis Rush – although, again, they sound almost tame compared to Ike. To borrow a phrase, this is “extreme guitar,” and Ike is indeed the king.

Included here are the instrumentals from Turner’s much-coveted Crown album, Ike Turner Rocks the Blues (cut in Clarksdale, Mississippi, in ’54), including his nine-minute medley of blues riffs, “All The Blues All The Time.” With a fatter, more distorted tone, he gets things going with the lick from Junior Parker’s “Feelin’ Good” before things peter out and he cranks them up with Parker’s “Love My Baby.” Another dead stop, then B.B. King’s “Please Love Me,” Hooker’s “Boogie Chillun,” Elmore’s “Dust My Broom,” “Rock Me Baby,” Muddy’s “Hoochie Coochie” – just the signature riffs and a little bit of soloing – before ending up with B.B.’s “Woke Up This Morning.” An almost surreal patchwork resumé of bandstand blues – taped, stapled, and knotted together, rather than stitched.

This is some raw, good, essential stuff.

The Burns Brothers are a refreshing rediscovery. Like most living legends, Eddie “Snake Eyes” Burns has never stopped performing. The Detroit native is still very active in the Motor City, blending Delta musings with the “uptown” Hastings Street stylings of his old friend, the late John Lee Hooker.

Burns’ tough-yet-mellow vocal styling, and his sparse-but-stinging guitar rendering represent the perfect vehicle for this fully realized musical personality. Twelve of the 15 cuts on “Snake Eyes” are composed by Eddie, and the three interpretive cuts, including a wonderful remake of Memphis Slim’s “Lend Me Your Love,” have an identity that is uniquely Burns.

An intensely proud man, this energetic 74-year-old is testimony to the longevity you can maintain when you’re focused and doing the music you love. He is still vital and intense, yet relaxed.

Snake Eyes’ version of “Your Cash Ain’t Nothing But Trash” says it all. “It ain’t the money,” he says. “It’s about that feeling you get when everybody’s having a good time.”

Hastings Street is long gone, but with Burns’ Snake Eyes, you be right back there at Henry’s Swing Club waitin’ for John Lee to walk in and announce, “Yeah people, we’s really havin’ a ball.” Sho nuff!