A Consumer Guide to the Trailing Edge: September, 2005

Recycled Goods (#23)

by Tom Hull

No themes, no series, a little bit of everything as I try to clear the shelves before the fall season descends upon us. Or at least catch up a bit. Back this month is the Additional Consumer News listing of reissues I haven't heard of old albums I mostly love. What I report on is necessarily limited to what I can beg, borrow or whatever, and I often don't bother with stuff I already have in some earlier but perfectly acceptable packaging, especially on labels I don't have any connection to. Wounded Bird, for instance, does cheap reprints with nothing extra, no documentation, no promo. They'll reissue anything, so I'm sure it's just dumb luck that they came up with the best record of 1982. On the other hand, the JMT reissues on Winter & Winter are luxuriously packaged souvenirs as Stefan Winter recovers the fruits of his previous label. This section will return periodically as I collect things that merit mention.

Amadou & Mariam: Dimanche à Bamako (2004 [2005], Nonesuch). A small pseudo-sticker on the slipcase points out "Guest Star Manu Chao." Flip it over and the small print reads "Produced by and with Manu Chao." Flip the booklet open and you can count eight songs at least co-credited to Manu Chao, with more that he plays and sings on. Spin the disc and, quelle surprise, it sounds like a new Manu Chao album, especially with its lanky pan-everywhere riddims. The "blind couple from Mali," as they've billed themselves, have always been suspected of borrowing liberally from elsewhere, so hooking up with Europe's one-man melting pot is an economical as well as inspired move. The Malian voices take over on their own songs, the most native sounding called "Gnidjougouya" -- the booklet prints all lyrics in French, even when they aren't. A

The Very Best of Bill Doggett: Honky Tonk (1954-59 [2004], Collectables). For some reason, Rhino passed on Doggett back in 1993 when they had a brief shot at raiding the King Records vaults -- probably because Doggett's records were instrumentals, with twenty-some albums charting a mere three top-40 singles. "Honky Tonk (Parts 1 & 2)" was by far the biggest hit, a seminal piece of mid-'50s r&b, with Billy Butler's guitar line setting the table and Clifford Scott's honking sax rocking out. The big advantage of a Rhino package would have been a better discography, but they would have cheaped out on the tunes. A-

The Fugs: Virgin Fugs (1966 [2005], ESP-Disk). ESP's motto was "the artists alone decide what you will hear on their ESP Disk," so it's tempting to think they did this on purpose, but the story is more sordid. In liner notes that could only have been written by a lawyer, label owner Bernard Stollman admits he violated his cardinal rule in slapping this together from outtakes he picked up when he bought rights to the Fugs' first album. Fugs Ed Sanders and Tuli Kupferberg sued him over it, and indeed it sounds primitive compared even to their usual standards. But when you're doing songs like the hyper "New Amphetamine Shriek" and slurpy "Coca Cola Douche" there's no point to getting fancy. Sanders was a shrewd wordsmith, and Kupferberg an inspired jokester, but neither could play much more than tambourine. The musical secret to these demos, if that's what they were, came from Rounders Steve Webber and Peter Stampfel, with the latter's voice as sour as his violin. Caveat emptor: Real short (26:47), and five of eleven songs were bonuses on Fantasy's 1994 edition of The Fugs First Album. A-

Dizzy Gillespie/Charlie Parker: Town Hall, New York City, June 22, 1945 (1945 [2005], Uptown). Jazz critics write about Charlie Parker as if he was Jesus. He came unto the world to deliver us from swing, and after a few breathtaking, turbulent years he died for our sins. His death was greeted by denial and resurrection, as in the ubiquitous "Bird Lives!" graffiti of the '50s. His acolytes have scoured the land for every scrap of solo he left, so now there are dozens of bootlegged live tapes in print -- most in execrable sound quality, but cherished nonetheless. All this reverence has always turned me off, and I've been slapped down more times than I care to recall for saying so. To my ears, which perhaps significantly had absorbed Ornette Coleman and Anthony Braxton before I ever turned to Parker, he's always been a one trick pony, playing off chord changes at breakneck speed. So when this newly discovered treasure came in the mail I put it on the shelf, not into the changer. Now that I've finally gotten to it, I can report: first, this is Gillespie's group, doing Gillespie's songs, which means that Parker really has to work to steal the show (which he does at least twice); the sound is pretty clean and well balanced; Symphony Sid is as boring as ever; there are no new revelations here, but this gives you an idea what the excitement was about. B+

Janis Joplin: Pearl (Legacy Edition) (1970 [2005], Columbia/Legacy, 2CD). Like Billie Holiday, everything she did for anyone ultimately belongs to her, which is why Legacy was able to craft a 3-CD box, Janis, that sounded unified, complete, and utterly convincing. That left little else to do with her, but commerce carries on. The core album here was a slight disappointment but forgivable as her unfinished last. The extra disc is a Toronto concert that provides a memorable snapshot of what must have been an average night, matching the disappointment of the album, but forgivable nonetheless. Pace the liner notes, she didn't go out on a high note; she died unresolved, never figuring out that the blues are about survival, a lesson she never got old enough to appreciate. A-

Patty Loveless: The Definitive Collection (1985-96 [2005], MCA Nashville/Chronicles). Patricia Ramey grew up singing Porter/Dolly duets with her brother Roger, who took her to Nashville, where she hooked up with the Wilburn Brothers, following in Loretta Lynn's footsteps. She married their drummer Terry Lovelace, and when they split she changed her name to an adjective. She caught a break when Tony Brown finally decided there might be a market for country music that actually sounds like country music. Neotraditionalism is what they called it, and she's their poster girl -- she has the right voice and temperament. She cut five albums for MCA from 1987-91, then moved on to Epic where she has nine and counting. If she's ever cut a bad one I've missed it. The six I've heard are so solid and consistent her best-ofs can be programmed at random, which evidently they are. This one samples the MCA albums liberally, tacking on two run-of-the-mill songs from her third Epic album to spread the year-range a bit. Problem is she's rarely great. She doesn't write much, and she keeps trying to make love songs work, even though she's sharper on the loveless ones. For example, "God Will" -- I might have graded this higher had they included it, but they didn't. B+

Loretta Lynn: The Definitive Collection (1964-78 [2005], MCA Nashville/Chronicles). This 25-cut comp follows three others on CD, not counting cheapies: 20 Greatest Hits (1988, 20 songs), Country Music Hall of Fame Series (1991, 16), All Time Greatest Hits (2002, 22). All four fit into multi-artist series: whenever MCA got ginned up for a round of best-ofs, Lynn had to be included. The obvious reason is that Lynn recorded a dozen or so songs of sexual politics so sharply detailed and reasoned that no record collection should be without them. Those songs are the core of the fifteen cuts that appear on three or more of these comps. It's not that Lynn didn't record enough -- she released something like 35 albums in a 15-year span -- but her unique genius towers over a lot of solid professionalism. Examples of the latter include five duets with Conway Twitty and a song that belongs to Patsy Cline. These are all good songs, but they aren't Loretta. As for the others, forget All Time Greatest Hits, which is this record minus "Blue Kentucky Girl," "You're Lookin' at Country," and "The Pill." But the A+ choice is still the Twitty-less out-of-print 20 Greatest Hits. A-

New Thing! (1956-84 [2005], Soul Jazz, 2CD). "New Thing" is a phrase immortalized in a 1965 album title by John Coltrane and Archie Shepp. For me, it's always signified a style of saxophone playing meant to peel paint and raise the rafters, an evolution of r&b honk amplified into massive dissonance. The style's godfather was Albert Ayler, and it's current masters include Charles Gayle and David S. Ware, but it's just one thread in the much broader domain of the avant-garde (another phrase Coltrane latched onto for a 1960 album title with Don Cherry). But compiler Stuart Baker takes "new thing" in a different direction, following Shepp into what I'm tempted to call "social music" -- church roots, black power, proto-funk, cosmic groove. But there's far less emphasis on the words than in recent years' black power compilations, and a lot more spaciness. Most songs date from the early '70s, with Sun Ra way ahead of his time in '56 and a couple of throwbacks from the '80s. More interesting to connoisseurs of rare funk than of avant jazz. Could use a little more skronk, I'd say. B+

Sonny Rollins: Without a Song: The 9/11 Concert (2001 [2005], Milestone). Rollins picked these seventy-three minutes from a marathon two hour, forty minute concert in Boston four days after he was evacuated from his apartment near New York's World Trade Center. But he's too modest, giving lots of space to trombonist Clifton Anderson and pianist Stephen Scott while shortchanging himself. As he says in his introduction, "music is one of the beautiful things in life" -- obvious but timely as the nation's politicians and media marched off to their quixotic war. When Rollins cuts loose, especially on "Global Warming," his saxophone speaks with an overpowering life force. Exxon pays flacks to cast aspersions on the science, but they'd be fools to try to take him on. A-

The David S. Ware Quartets: Live in the World (1998-2003 [2005], Thirsty Ear, 3CD). Three discs, three concerts, three drummers. Aside from the drummers, the Ware Quartet is the longest running small group in history. Ware almost never works outside of the group, but his cohorts, William Parker and Matthew Shipp, have distinguished careers in their own right, and their own stardom gets more play in these looser concert gigs than on the studio albums. Looking back, the energy jolt that arrived with Susie Ibarra and the shift to electronics heralded by Guillermo E. Brown may have been side-effects of the maturation of the three mainstays. That the drummers matter less is made clear on the date with the redoubtable Hamid Drake sitting, and merely blending, in. A-

Briefly Noted

  • Ray Charles: Friendship (1984-86 [2005], Columbia/Legacy): an album of country duets refurbished to cash in on the success of Genius Loves Company, but inferior in every respect: songs, partners, arrangements, the attention span of the genius himself; the non-country bonuses are a bit better, even the one with Billy Joel, but the only winner, a George Jones joke, can be had elsewhere: the expanded My Very Special Friends and, much better, The Spirit of Country. C+
  • June Christy: Ballads for Night People (1959-61 [2005], Capitol Jazz): Bob Cooper and Bud Shank are the constants among three crack west coast bands that pop up at opportune moments while the cool one has her way with a mess of standards; two by Ellington have rarely been done more elegantly, and the big band "All You Need Is a Quarter" finally melts the ice. B+
  • Maria de Barros: Dança Ma Mi (2005, Narada): born in Dakar of Cape Verdean parents, raised in Mauritania and Rhode Island, based in Los Angeles, sings mostly in Portuguese, another singer adrift in a world where home is nowhere and, just as well, everywhere; so it's not surprising that this pleasantly danceable music sounds like nothing and everything, softened a bit as is so often the case with the pan-Portuguese. B+
  • Lea Delaria: Double Standards (2002 [2005], Telarc): lesbian comic -- first album: Bulldyke in a China Shop -- remakes herself as a saloon singer, to use Sinatra's terminology, with a fine mainstream jazz band and a batch of non-vintage songs: Patti Smith, Los Lobos, Blondie, No Doubt, Jane's Addiction, the Doors ("People Are Strange"), Green Day, the Pretenders, Robert Wyatt, Neil Young ("Philadelphia"); she sings, scats, makes them sound like standards. B+
  • John Denver: Rhymes & Reasons (1969 [2005], RCA/Legacy): first album by the folksinger who changed his name from Henry John Deutschendorf to become Colorado's official Poet Laureate; mostly covers, including a fast one from the Beatles, a slow one from Jerry Jeff Walker, and some cornpone country from Mason Williams, plus ballads of Spiro Agnew and Richard Nixon that say all he has to say in 23 seconds. C
  • John Denver's Greatest Hits (1969-73 [2005], RCA/Legacy): by recycling this 1973 profit-taking exercise, you only get three of his eight top-ten hits, plus one that charted #88, plus his version of the hit he wrote for Peter, Paul & Mary, plus filler; of the three hits, one was definitively redone by Toots & the Maytals, another beat to death in commercials, and the third's a leading cause of melanoma; when he raises his voice in "The Eagle and the Hawk," is he trying to fly, or just escape the strings? C+
  • John Denver: Back Home Again (1974 [2005], RCA/Legacy): more hits than Greatest Hits, counting the original of "Thank God I'm a Country Boy," which is close enough to count; better filler too -- at least he sounds like a real person here, even if not a particularly interesting one. B-
  • Henri Dikongué: Biso Nawa (2004 [2005], Buda Musique): from Cameroun via Paris, if African music mapped onto rock genres, he'd be a singer-songwriter, with his folkie guitar, plaintive vocals, indifferent beats; not that it's so simple. B+
  • DJ Spooky That Subliminal Kid: Celestial Mechanix (2004, Thirsty Ear, 2CD): remixes, two or maybe three times removed from the headwaters of Thirsty Ear Blue Series records, the meeting ground of Matthew Shipp's avant-jazz circle with their favorite DJs. B+
  • Flatt & Scruggs: Foggy Mountain Jamboree (1951-57 [2005], Columbia/Legacy): this is the classic sound of bluegrass -- after all, they invented it; this old comp, sonically spruced up with three bonus cuts, alternates vocals with instrumentals, letting them stretch out and pick between their prayers and revels; more consistent than their best-ofs, probably because it sticks to their prime. A-
  • Flatt & Scruggs: Foggy Mountain Gospel (1951-66 [2005], Columbia/Legacy, 2CD): always a bluegrass staple, both as something to write about -- ten originals, mostly early when they wrote more and better -- and as easy, agreeable filler; Flatt's twang and Scruggs banjo always seem to shine when they dwell in the house of the lord, where those little mandolin flourishes can be taken as applause from angels. A-
  • Fred Frith: Eleventh Hour (1990-2002 [2005], Winter & Winter, 2CD): scratchy, plucky minimalism, with inscrutable shifts of rhythm and texture; the Arditti String Quartet extends the first disc into chamber music territory, while Frith's guitar is more prominent on the second. B+
  • The Fugs: Electromagnetic Steamboat: The Reprise Recordings (1967-68 [2001], Rhino Handmade, 3CD): the level of musical accomplishment here is a curse as much as a blessing -- Sanders and Kupferberg have always been word people, and that's what you listen for, even if you have to hack through country and doo-wop and power rock and classical strings and hare krishna; this piles up four of the most uncommercial albums ever released on a major label, plus trivia; an invaluable reference for scholars. B+
  • Jefferson Airplane: The Essential Jefferson Airplane (1966-72 [2005], RCA/Legacy, 2CD): history's ultimate verdict is likely to regard them as the confused adolescent pre-punk precursors of X, a band that built knowingly and skillfully on their folkie noir; a single disc would meander less, but would run the risk of reducing them to an anthemic pop band; they must have suspected as much when they titled their first compilation The Worst of Jefferson Airplane. B+
  • George Jones: My Very Special Guests (Legacy Edition) (1977-97 [2005], Epic/Legacy, 2CD): this takes the first (and best) of four one-song-per-guest-star albums and packs on 27 more, providing an extensive two-decade document of Jones' duet art; Jones is so skillful and so selfless that he contrasts to and fits in even with generations of male neotrads who grew up in awe of him, but few add up to the sum of their parts, perhaps because they dilute the greatest voice in country music, or because they're just meant to be easy product. B
  • Thad Jones & Mel Lewis: Live at the Village Vanguard (1967 [2005], Blue Note): the Jones-Lewis big band was a triumph of will over history, proving that the economics and aesthetic trends that drove everyone else into small groups weren't fate -- they were mere obstacles; Jones, like Dizzy Gillespie with half the chops but his own sneaky genius, was a modernist committed to big band bebop; Lewis was the drummer who kept Stan Kenton's juggernauts on track; they worked steadily at the Vanguard -- even after Jones died Lewis stubbornly kept the orchestra going -- but at this point the band was especially huge, and they sound glorious. A-
  • Kirk Lightsey: The Nights of Bradley's (1985 [2004], Sunnyside): an excellent pianist, able to straddle avant-garde and mainstream without clearly aligning one way or another; this is a duo with bassist Rufus Reid, recorded at NYC's famous after-hours club; intimate and intelligent. B+
  • Idris Muhammad: House of the Rising Sun (1976 [2004], CTI/Epic/Legacy): Creed Taylor in extremis, best if you concentrate on the percussion, which is the leader's calling, instead of the curious mix of Meters-style funk and disco that Taylor thought might sell; not that it deconstructs that cleanly, or that funk isn't its own reward. B
  • Steve Nelson: Fuller Nelson (1998 [2004], Sunnyside): Nelson is one of the major vibraphone players of the last twenty years, but has little out under his own name; this one is a reprise of the same vibes-piano-bass trio that recorded Full Nelson in 1989, with Ray Drummond on bass and Kirk Lightsey wickedly sharp on piano. B+
  • Come On Get Happy! The Very Best of the Partridge Family (1970-72 [2005], Arista/Legacy): I barely recall the twee sitcom, so the most striking thing about this cross-marketing is how adult all the singers sound, including the featured David Cassidy (age 20 when the show debuted); the music end of the business was run by Wes Farrell, a hack with enough budget to hire pros; at best these are amazingly complex confections, far more psychedelica than bubblegum; it's amusing to imagine them recut with a singer broad enough to redeem such kitsch, like Elvis Presley. B
  • Pearls Before Swine: The Complete ESP-Disk' Recordings (1967-68 [2005], ESP-Disk): with the biblical name, cover art from Bosch and Breugel, and references back past Vietnam to the pointless slaughter of the Crimean War, Tom Rapp's early recordings have a peculiar braininess and eerie beauty to them; classifying this as folk or psychedelica or both seems off base, although he's not consistent enough to avoid the confusion. B+
  • The Best of Poi Dog Pondering (The Austin Years) (1989-91 [2005], Columbia/Legacy): a band of eclectics from Hawaii, having established a beachhead in Austin because it's warm and cheap, make a quick dash for next big thing -- or at least encourage the megacorp to think so; a shifting but mostly large group led by Frank Orrall, they're distinguished by groove and erudition, but not much else. B
  • Putumayo Presents: Italian Café (1958-2004 [2005], Putumayo World Music): an analog to the "French Café" idiom of prior comps, this makes for pleasant touristy background, with whispery vocals and lithe, easy-strolling riddims; note that the only cut dominated by accordion comes from Austria. B+
  • Putumayo Presents: Latin Lounge (2000-04 [2005], Putumayo World Music): Putumayo's genius is to collect and sequence unthreatening exotica into pleasing packages that give you a sense of adventure with no risk or thrill; so here, when they say "lounge" they mean soft synth beats, the common denominator to five volumes thus far (World, Euro, Sahara, Blues); musicians everywhere in damn near every genre and style are turning to such cheap, dependable technology, so the series is likely to be inexhaustible -- as long as anyone bothers to buy it. B
  • Putumayo Presents: North African Groove (1996-2004 [2005], Putumayo World Music): further progress on the raï front, the dance music not evolving so much as spreading across the continent it speaks to, its home base safe from the mullahs and jihadis in secular France. B+
  • The Rough Guide to Cajun Dance ([2004], World Music Network): it's all dance music, but even if the point is to run with the fast ones -- always a safe bet -- it's worth noting that two slow ones vary the pace and add a note of soulfulness. B+
  • Screaming Trees: Ocean of Confusion: Songs of Screaming Trees (1990-96 [2005], Epic/Legacy): a second tier rock band spanning what I found to be the most uninteresting and least fun period in rock history, they made complicated but tuneful hard rock, combining arena flash with downscale grunge; competent and skillful, but sounds more like the problem than the solution. B
  • Earl Scruggs With Special Guests: I Saw the Light With Some Help From My Friends (1971 [2005], Columbia/Legacy): Linda Ronstadt, Tracy Nelson, Arlo Guthrie, Norman Blake, Vassar Clements, Jeff Hanna, Gary Scruggs, the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band; Flatt-busted, the banjo great needed vocal help, but got too much clutter and confusion in the bargain, and barely got a chance to play his banjo. B
  • Tarika: 10: Beasts, Ghosts & Dancing With History (1994-2002 [2004], Triloka/Artemis): a 10th anniversary compilation from Madagascar's most famous folk-rock group, sounds like nothing else from Africa, and not just because the Malagasy's roots are in Indonesia; the rhythms are light and snappy, the guitar sweet, the voices -- sisters Hanitra Rasoanaivo and Noro Raharimalala in the lead, with males for backup and response -- elated; the remixes may be a sop to the commercial west, but they help. A-
  • Trojan Dub Massive: Chapter One ([2005], Trojan/Sanctuary): Sly and Robbie, King Tubby, Tapper Zukie, Prince Jammy, Scientist, the Upsetters, all pretty classic stuff, spun by Bill Laswell, who's never quite able to leave well enough alone. B+
  • Stanley Turrentine: Don't Mess With Mister T. (1973 [2004], CTI/Epic/Legacy): at his best, Turrentine's vibrant tenor sax soars away from the Creed Taylor treatment, leaving the strings in the mud of the mix, but Bob James' electric piano is an interesting counterpoint to Richard Tee's organ; the bonus tracks are hotter than the ones Taylor put on the original album. B+
  • Conway Twitty & Loretta Lynn: The Definitive Collection (1970-88 [2005], MCA Nashville/Chronicles): the love songs remind you that they're Nashville pros, not lovers, but what pros they are -- the proof is in the jokes, like "You're the Reason Our Kids Are Ugly" and "Don't Tell Me You're Sorry (I Know How Sorry You Are)." A-
  • Don Williams: The Definitive Collection (1973-86 [2004], MCA Nashville/Chronicles): Bobby Bare described Williams as a "super-talent with no crutches, no hangups, no problems"; an easy going, soft-spoken country crooner, Williams racked up a long series of hits courting marital bliss, the opposite of Nashville's usual Strum und Drang, but they key was that he never turned sappy or melodramatic, least of all in the music, what "easy listening" ought to mean. A-

Additional Consumer News

These are recent reissues of albums of albums I know and, mostly, love, but I haven't heard these particular packages, so caveat emptor. Some may be remastered and/or have extra tracks. As a rule of thumb, extra tracks neither help nor hurt, but of course there are exceptions both ways.

  • Albert Ayler Trio: Spiritual Unity (1964 [2005], ESP-Disk): the first reissue from Bernard Stollman's recently relaunched label is Ayler's masterpiece, a milestone of the '60s avant-garde. A-
  • Eno/Cale: Wrong Way Up (1990 [2005], Hannibal): Brian Eno's only song/vocal album between 1978 and 2005 -- haven't heard the reportedly disappointing new one, Another Day on Earth, but he still had the knack in 1990; John Cale had another fruitful collaboration in 1990, Songs for Drella, with Lou Reed. A-
  • Kid Creole & the Coconuts: Wise Guy (1982 [2005], Wounded Bird): third album, after the still out-of-print high concept tour de force Fresh Fruit in Foreign Places, the pinnacle of August Darnell's songwriting and production. A
  • Kid Creole & the Coconuts: In Praise of Older Women & Other Crimes (1985 [2005], Wounded Bird): fifth album, skipping the still out-of-print Doppelganger; some folks thought Darnell was starting to slip, but all he was doing was cruising. A-
  • Kid Creole & the Coconuts: I, Too, Have Seen the Woods (1987 [2005], Wounded Bird): sixth album, even I concluded that he had slipped a notch, but it's been so long I'd love to hear it again. B+
  • Charles Mingus: East Coasting (1957 [2005], Shout! Factory): more Mingus workshop experiments, overshadowed by his better known Atlantics, but in the middle of a stretch where everything he turned out burned with excitement. A-
  • Charles Mingus: A Modern Jazz Symposium of Music and Poetry (1957 [2005], Shout! Factory): title sounds awful, but the only spoken stretch is a Mingus meditation on jazz, with asides on his landlord, and the music is near-classic. A-
  • Paul Motian and the Electric Bebop Band (1992 [2005], JMT/Winter & Winter): electric guitars (Brad Schoeppach, aka Shepik, and Kurt Rosenwinkel) and bass (Stomu Takeishi), plus Joshua Redman, romp through bebop classics. A-
  • Paul Motian and the Electric Bebop Band: Reincarnation of a Love Bird (1994 [2005], JMT/Winter & Winter): moving on to Mingus -- the problem everyone has with Mingus repertory is the palpable loss of edge compared to the original; Mingus' own bands played like their lives were on the line, and amplification alone doesn't compensate. B
  • The Raspberries: Starting Over (1973 [2005], RPM): the great post-Beatles pop album of the '70s, so perfect that Capitol's best-ofs inevitably tarnish it by mixing in songs from three earlier, inferior, but not unredeemable albums -- Capitol's 1976 Raspberries Best shows that they stand alone, but not in this company (and maybe not extended from LP- to CD-length). A
  • The Slits: Cut (1979 [2005], Koch): messy, fearless, reggae-inflected post-punk feminism; thought it might be a harbinger at the time, but turned out to be a remarkable one-shot. A-


In an infinite universe, all the music you'll ever need already exists somewhere. We find more each month: bebop (Dizzy Gillespie & Charlie Parker), honky tonk (Bill Doggett), hippie poets (the Fugs), country feminism (Loretta Lynn and Patty Loveless), world pop (Amadou & Mariam), jazz masters on the road (Sonny Rollins, David S. Ware), many more (54 records).

Copyright © 2005 Tom Hull.