A Consumer Guide to the Trailing Edge:
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 ,
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.
The Very Best of Bill Doggett: Honky Tonk (1954-59
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.
The Fugs: Virgin Fugs (1966 , 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.
Dizzy Gillespie/Charlie Parker: Town Hall, New York City,
June 22, 1945 (1945 , 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.
Janis Joplin: Pearl (Legacy Edition) (1970 ,
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.
Patty Loveless: The Definitive Collection (1985-96
, 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.
Loretta Lynn: The Definitive Collection (1964-78
, 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.
New Thing! (1956-84 , 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.
Sonny Rollins: Without a Song: The 9/11 Concert
(2001 , 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
The David S. Ware Quartets: Live in the World
(1998-2003 , 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
- Ray Charles: Friendship (1984-86 ,
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
- June Christy: Ballads for Night People (1959-61
, 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.
- 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.
- Lea Delaria: Double Standards (2002 , 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.
- John Denver: Rhymes & Reasons (1969 ,
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.
- John Denver's Greatest Hits (1969-73 ,
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?
- John Denver: Back Home Again (1974 ,
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.
- Henri Dikongué: Biso Nawa (2004 , 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.
- 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.
- Flatt & Scruggs: Foggy Mountain Jamboree (1951-57
, 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.
- Flatt & Scruggs: Foggy Mountain Gospel (1951-66
, 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.
- Fred Frith: Eleventh Hour (1990-2002 , 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.
- The Fugs: Electromagnetic Steamboat: The Reprise Recordings
(1967-68 , 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
- Jefferson Airplane: The Essential Jefferson Airplane
(1966-72 , 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.
- George Jones: My Very Special Guests (Legacy Edition)
(1977-97 , 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.
- Thad Jones & Mel Lewis: Live at the Village Vanguard
(1967 , 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.
- Kirk Lightsey: The Nights of Bradley's (1985 ,
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.
- Idris Muhammad: House of the Rising Sun (1976 ,
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.
- Steve Nelson: Fuller Nelson (1998 , 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.
- Come On Get Happy! The Very Best of the Partridge Family
(1970-72 , 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
- Pearls Before Swine: The Complete ESP-Disk' Recordings
(1967-68 , 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.
- The Best of Poi Dog Pondering (The Austin Years)
(1989-91 , 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
- Putumayo Presents: Italian Café (1958-2004 ,
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.
- Putumayo Presents: Latin Lounge (2000-04 ,
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.
- Putumayo Presents: North African Groove (1996-2004
, 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
- The Rough Guide to Cajun Dance (, 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.
- Screaming Trees: Ocean of Confusion: Songs of Screaming
Trees (1990-96 , 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.
- Earl Scruggs With Special Guests: I Saw the Light With Some
Help From My Friends (1971 , 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.
- Tarika: 10: Beasts, Ghosts & Dancing With History
(1994-2002 , 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.
- Trojan Dub Massive: Chapter One (, 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.
- Stanley Turrentine: Don't Mess With Mister T. (1973
, 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.
- Conway Twitty & Loretta Lynn: The Definitive
Collection (1970-88 , 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)."
- Don Williams: The Definitive Collection (1973-86
, 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.
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
- Albert Ayler Trio: Spiritual Unity (1964 ,
ESP-Disk): the first reissue from Bernard Stollman's recently
relaunched label is Ayler's masterpiece, a milestone of the '60s
- Eno/Cale: Wrong Way Up (1990 , 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.
- Kid Creole & the Coconuts: Wise Guy (1982 ,
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.
- Kid Creole & the Coconuts: In Praise of Older Women &
Other Crimes (1985 , 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.
- Kid Creole & the Coconuts: I, Too, Have Seen the Woods
(1987 , 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.
- Charles Mingus: East Coasting (1957 , 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.
- Charles Mingus: A Modern Jazz Symposium of Music and
Poetry (1957 , 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.
- Paul Motian and the Electric Bebop Band (1992 ,
JMT/Winter & Winter): electric guitars (Brad Schoeppach, aka Shepik,
and Kurt Rosenwinkel) and bass (Stomu Takeishi), plus Joshua Redman,
romp through bebop classics.
- Paul Motian and the Electric Bebop Band: Reincarnation of a
Love Bird (1994 , 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
- The Raspberries: Starting Over (1973 , 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).
- The Slits: Cut (1979 , 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.
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.