Month: May 2004

Johnny Winter was such an important guitarist when he hit the national scene in 1969, it’s a shame his discography has become so littered with bootlegs and “best of”‘s that don’t do justice to his stature as a artist. This is at least the third retrospective Columbia has served up – following White Hot Blues and A Rock ‘n’ Roll Collection – and the label has yet to get it right.

More accurately, this should be titled “The Best of The Columbia Years,” which span roughly 1969 to 1984, but even then only about a third of the 16 tracks live up to that claim. Further, there’s no rhyme or reason to the track sequence, and the skimpy booklet (by producer Lawrence Cohn) doesn’t even detail which albums the songs originally appeared on. And the personnel credits are near worthless, since they list brother Edgar on “piano, organ, harpsichord, alto sax” on every song from Second Winter, regardless of which instrument he actually played on that cut, and bassist Tommy Shannon and drummer John Turner are listed on “Dallas” – which features only Johnny, solo, on his National steel-bodied guitar.

Johnny’s 1969 self-titled, major-label debut lived up to the hype that had quickly surrounded this bluesman from Texas, after Columbia signed him to the biggest advance in the label’s history. He followed with a more scatter-shot “album and a half” – the three-sided Second Winter – which contained his definitive interpretation of Dylan’s “Highway 61 Revisited.”

But despite scoring a rock classic (albeit one that never charted) with bandmate Rick Derringer’s “Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo” when he sacked his blues outfit and reformed as Johnny Winter And, things went downhill from there. Even in the age of Endless Solo With Too Many Notes, our man Johnny could be excessive in the extreme – just check out the twelve-minute slow blues, “It’s My Own Fault.”

But at his best, he could be authentic, original, exciting, and one of the best slide players on the planet. Glimpses of that brilliance are best found here on the aforementioned “Highway 61” and “Hoochie Koo,” as well as the Robert Johnson-ish “Dallas,” “I’m Yours and I’m Hers,” “Be Careful With a Fool” and a cover of Ray Charles’ “Drown In My Own Tears” (all from Johnny Winter).

Those are the CD’s six keepers. Inclusions that range from questionable to inexplicable are: the aforementioned “Own Fault;” so-so covers of “Johnny B. Goode” and “Miss Ann;” a version of Robert Johnson’s “Come On In My Kitchen” with a rather intrusive flute by Jeremy Steig; a live version of “Rollin’ & Tumblin’” that’s so fast and out of control it sounds like the band is fighting each other; a live version of “Mean Town Blues” marred by Derringer’s obnoxious rhythm guitar; and serviceable (but hardly great) songs like “Hustled Down in Texas,” “Still Alive and Well,” “Mother-In-Law Blues” and “Memory Pain.” Better choices (okay, my choices) would have been: “Good Morning Little Schoolgirl,” “Back Door Friend” and “Leland, Mississippi Blues” (from his debut LP); “Fast Life Rider” (from Second Winter); “Guess I’ll Go Away” and “Prodigal Son” (from Johnny Winter And); “All Tore Down” (from Still Alive and Well); and “Bladie Mae” and “Walkin’ By Myself” from his later period.

Certainly, Winter is deserving of a more deluxe package than this. Looks like we’ll have to wait for Rhino or Sundazed to take up the cause.

I’m sure it’s the same for everyone. You have certain players and bands that just can do no wrong. It’s that way for me with the Hellecasters. I just don’t know how you get three guitar players together in a better way and have them just play. This nice compilation features cuts from their previous three albums, plus some unreleased stuff, and songs that had previously been on compilations.

The Hellecasters are Will Ray, John Jorgenson, and Jerry Donahue. They’ve all made names for themselves in various settings, but on the Hellecasters records, it’s just balls-to-the-wall guitar. Their styles are very different, but mesh perfectly. Donahue is the consummate country-influenced Tele player. Banjo-picked chords, flying arpeggios, and lots more highlight his playing. Jorgenson is a Django-influenced rocker. Go figure. He’s at home playing everything from stinging rock leads to lightening-fast jazz runs. And Ray is a blues-influenced player who can get nasty as hell. And all three have a huge catalog of licks in every style.

The disc is full of incredible interaction. Solos are highly imaginative and unpredictable… almost ridiculously so.

If you’re not familiar with the boys, this is a good place to start. I guarantee, if you’re a fan of great guitar playing, you will end up picking up all their stuff.

I guess a review of this could just say “He’s the master,” and leave it at that. But that wouldn’t be fair to you, the reader, or the publishers of VG, who wouldn’t pay me for a three-word review.

This is actually a two-disc set that repackages Jim’s 1981 record Circles, and 1989’s All Across the City. Hall is one of a select few who never make a bad record. His playing always has something to say, and his compositions are top-notch.

It’s hard to think of a jazz player with a better tone; it’s big and fat, and his dynamics make it perfect. Chops-wise, well… come on. These two discs are perfect examples of what he can do.

Harmonically, Hall has few peers. His chordal work has always been gorgeous and daring. Check out his take on “Love Letters.”

With these albums being eight years apart, there’s definitely a different feel between them. For lack of a better word, the last 11 cuts sound “more modern.” Hall even uses a chorus on a couple of cuts. It’s almost like Metheny or Scofield playing it straight traditionally. I do like the second disc a little more. It’s a little more adventurous, featuring tunes by Hall, Duke Ellington, and Monk. A very diverse set. That’s not to disparage the first disc, though, because as I said, he’s one of those few players you’re never disappointed in.

For fans, it’s nice to see Concord repackage this stuff at a great price. For folks who aren’t familiar yet, check it out. You’ll be exposed to one of the greatest players ever.

Norm Stephens isn’t a household name, even to country music fans who have no doubt heard his guitar playing. But to Merle Haggard, Stephens – the original guitarist behind Hag’s biggest influence, Lefty Frizzell – is a hero. When Stephens decided to come out of retirement, he placed a classified ad in the local newspaper. When pianist Doug Colosio showed his boss the ad and Merle realized that one of the guitarists he patterned his style after lived only miles away, he didn’t just answer the ad, he started rolling tape.

The resultant Roots, Vol. 1 is one of the best, most meaningful albums of Haggard’s 39-year career – which is saying something. More than a tribute to Frizzell, it also embraces the repertoires of Hank Williams and Hank Thompson, another legend Stephens toured with. On classics such as Frizzell’s “Always Late (With Your Kisses)” and “Look What Thoughts Will Do,” Williams’ “Honky Tonkin’” and Thompson’s “Wild Side of Life,” Stephens’ simple, melodic playing is right at home. His style is economical and tasteful, in the same way Billy Byrd’s work with Ernest Tubb was – never using a lot of notes when only a few will get the point across better. Steel guitarist Norm Hamlet, likewise, places taste above flash, and having guitarists Merle and Redd Volkaert in support can only help.

Recorded in Haggard’s living room, the album has a presence and intimacy that’s been absent in country (or just about any) records for far too long. “There’s none of that crap that we’ve all become used to hearing on records nowadays,” says Merle with typical candor. With the layering and isolation peeled away, one truly has the feeling of being right there in the living room with the band. Kudos to engineers Lou Bradley and Bob McGill.

Anyone who’s followed Haggard’s career won’t be surprised by him tipping his hat to his heroes – something he’s already done with respect to Bob Wills and Jimmie Rodgers. But when a bona fide legend enlists an unsung hero to pay tribute to his idol, it’s a pivotal event in country music. One not to be missed.

I suppose some husband-and-wife singing duos were more influential than Ian and Silvia, but I’m hard-pressed to think of any. Their combined voices have a power and energy that is unique: instead of a lead joined by harmony vocals, Ian and Silvia sang dual leads, much like the Allman brothers’ dual guitar solos. Their first release in 1963 set a standard for artistic and acoustic quality that has been equaled, but never surpassed. The Complete Vanguard Studio Recordings provides us with the comprehensive collection of their work between ’63 and ’68. Some purists might see this chronological offering as a graphic documentation of a slow downward artistic spiral as alien and inappropriate pop influences diluted Ian and Silvia’s original folk sincerity. Conversely, others will delight in how Ian and Silvia’s narrow focus broadened with their exposure to the heady musical trends of the ’60s.

This deluxe four-CD set encompasses all the material from seven studio albums, plus a few additional tracks. A 78-page booklet includes complete album credits, copious photographs, and several well-researched essays by Colin Escott. Escott’s copy not only supplies a historical context for their work, but brings us up-to-date with where Ian and Silvia are now.

Even though Ian and Silvia were a folk duo, from their very first release, additional musicians contributed to their mix. John Herald, who is certainly one of the most influential folk guitarists of the early ’60s, joined them on their first three albums. His solo on “Moonshine Can” is a perfect flurry of flatpicking. Other superlative sidemen included Bill Lee, Eric Weissberg, Robert Bushnell, and Felix Pappalardi on bass, and Monte Dunn, David Rea, Jerry Reed, and Rick Turner on guitars. Pappalardi went from his eight-month sojourn with Ian and Silvia to producing Cream, while Rick Turner progressed to designing and building guitars and pickup systems.

Sonically, their early albums are heads and shoulders above the later releases. The first three albums have especially wonderful warm yet vibrant sound. Too bad there are no engineering credits. When Ian and Silvia added electric instruments, their sonic quality took a nosedive, as if their engineers couldn’t quite cope with their new, louder sound. Play One More and So Much for Dreaming are especially compressed, with a severely limited dynamic range. Compilation producer Tom Vickers is to be commended for not trying to goose up the sonics on the later albums to match the dynamic ease of the early releases. This slow and steady sonic decline is not unique to Ian and Silvia’s records. Most folk music in the late ’60s sounded steadily worse as electric guitars, Fender basses, and drum sets confounded studio engineers who were used to recording all-acoustic ensembles.

Hopefully, The Complete Vanguard Studio Recordings will bring Ian and Silvia the attention they deserve. Their first three albums are true works of art that are as musically strong and vibrant today as when they were created over 35 years ago. It’s about time these artists took their place in the pantheon of great folk performers of the 1960s.

Dan Bern must be prescient. The songs on his new CD elaborate on the new social American landscape post-September 11 with eerie accuracy.

For instance, take “God Said No,” where he tells of meeting God and volunteers to go back in time and undo the misdeeds of Curt Cobain, Hitler, and Christ’s crucifixion. In every case, Bern presents God’s lucid arguments for not going back to change history. God leaves him with this: “Time belongs to me. Time’s a secret weapon, my final advantage.” Not the sort of deep thoughts you expect in pop music.

Bern reminds one of a young Bob Dylan. He writes songs that contain graphic literal meanings and powerful poetic overtones. His lyrics mate perfectly with his basic folk-inspired melody lines. The result on songs like “Black Tornado” is a rock anthem worthy of Bruce Springsteen (“And I could do tonight with something soft and furry. But that ain’t likely to occur in south central Missouri…”) New American Language is funny, sad, quirky, and profound, all at once.

The core band on New American Language consists of Wil Masisak on keyboards, Eben Grace on guitar, Colin Mahoney on drums, Brian Schey on bass, and Paul Kuhn on bowed string instruments. Randy Kaplan and Lisa Donnelly join Bern as background vocalists on a “Black Tornado” and “New American Language.”

Unlike many small-label productions, New American Language sounds first-rate, I suspect in large part to Dave Glasser’s mastering effort. Glasser is rapidly becoming many small labels’ secret weapon in keeping up, sonically, with the majors.

New American Language satisfies musically while challenging the intellect. And it’s encouraging to know pop music is not all about easy subjects handled in simplistic ways. This album has made me a fan of Dan Bern.

Antoine is a fine acoustic guitarist who has developed a style rooted in smooth jazz, but is always pretty interesting. In fact, Antoine, and his fellows, on this one, do work that could easily degenerate into light-funk hell.

Things start with a remake of the Sergio Mendes chestnut “Mas Que Nada.” Antoine and friends make it work nicely. With the wonderful Patti Austin helping out on vocals, Antoine solos around the proceedings like he’s both breezily removed from it, and like it’s part of his very being. An excellent start to hear this great player.

From there, things continue to build and showcase Antoine’s talents. It’s hard to think of a nylon-string guitar player being funky, but check out “On the Strip.” There’s a break in the middle with just him and drums that proves it can happen. Then, when everyone else falls back in, Antoine follows with an imaginative, fiery solo that highlights his great chops and the great rhythm section.

A lot of the songs have very interesting and hummable melodies too, an ingredient that’s absolutely necessary for this kind of thing to work. The Antoine-penned title cut is one of those melodies. Top it off with some dazzling stretching out that features single-lines, chordal work, and two and three note licks, and you’ve got a winner of major proportions.

There’s nice ballad work here too; “Indian Summer” is gorgeous. As is the light swinger “Java Montmarte.” Through all the tunes, Antoine displays chops, taste, and soul. If you’re a fan of smooth jazz with licks and guts, check this one out.

Acoustic jazz is one of those “difficult” musical categories that doesn’t get much attention. Most jazz fans won’t take seriously anything that lacks a horn, while folkies are intimidated by music where they can’t hum along after 10 seconds. Ironically, if they give it a chance, both groups will enjoy Replay. Acoustic jazz at its best is downright addictive.

Alison Brown is known for her banjo mastery, and on Replay she revisits tunes recorded earlier in her career. Joined by John R. Barr on piano, Kendrick Freeman on drums, and Compass Records co-founder Gary West on bass, Brown delivers new takes on 15 previously recorded tunes. The entire session was done in only two days. Instead of the usual studio method, where each person tracks separately, on Replay, everyone played at the same time. The result is much closer to a live performance than a studio recording. Much of its spontaneity is probably because these sessions were never intended for a commercial CD, but merely to document the band.

From the opening song, “Red Balloon,” to the final strains of “The Promise of Spring,” Replay is breezy and lyrical without being flaccid or saccharine. Even potentially campy material like the “Spiderman Theme” becomes uptempo bop-flavored jazz in the hands of the ABQ. Not only is Brown’s banjo playing technically brilliant, but at times very un-banjo-like. Instead of banjo rolls, Brown delivers strong melodic lines that are about linear progressions rather than picking patterns. On “The Inspector,” Brown lays down her banjo in favor of an acoustic guitar. Her playing is so superb that on first listen I looked through the liner notes to see who the guest guitarist was. Not only are her melody lines inventive, but her tone and attack are impeccable.

Recorded by Dave Sinko at the Sound Emporium and Flying Lady Studio in Nashville, Tennessee, the sound here is as fresh as the musicianship. The entire CD has a vibrancy combined with a relaxed natural timbre that perfectly fits the music. Not only can you hear the subtle nuances of each instrument, but the ensemble blends into a cohesive, musically alive entity. In two words, “nice sound.”

If you’ve never heard Alison Brown, Replay is a fine place to begin your musical relationship. Longtime fans will appreciate how her quartet has revised and refined old favorites.

These two late albums by The Band need little introduction. By the time they were originally released – Rock of Ages in ’72 and Islands in ’76 – The Band had made its mark both on its own and by backing of Bob Dylan. While these albums both included some solid music, they were far from the group’s best.
While it reached #6 on the Billboard charts upon release, the live Rock of Ages would quickly be forgotten after the stupendous fanfare swan song, The Last Waltz, and Robbie Robertson himself was never truly happy with Islands, always feeling it needed further development.
Capitol has now re-released both with extensive liner booklets and a handful of previously unreleased tracks. Islands includes two bonus tracks – the single version of “Twilight” and an alternate take of “Georgia On My Mind” – but still the album will only appeal to hardcore collectors.
The re-release of Rock of Ages is another matter altogether. Listening to it again after all these years, the music is indeed rock solid and it should find a home with new fans of The Band. Better yet, Capitol has dug deep into its vaults and added a second CD packed with 10 previously unreleased tracks from the 1971-’72 concerts. These include versions of “I Shall Be Released” and “Up On Cripple Creek” as well as four hot numbers with Dylan; “Down In The Flood,” “When I Paint My Masterpiece,” “Don’t Ya Tell Henry,” and “Like A Rolling Stone.”
These live tracks come two years prior to ’74’s Before The Flood, and are sparked by the same energy and emotion of those shows. While Dylan juggles with (and eventually drops) some of the lyrics to “Like A Rolling Stone,” these are still hot live versions and the addition of these four songs will make this reissue a must-have for all Band and Dylan fans.