A Consumer Guide to the Trailing Edge:
Recycled Goods (#20)
by Tom Hull
When I put these columns together I often try to round up sets
of related records, figuring the relationships will add up usefully.
Usually, this amounts to one lead section review plus a few more
under Briefly Noted. However, this time I have a set that deserves
its own section: I've managed to accumulate about a third of the
Atavistic Unheard Music Series, so rather than cover them in dribs
and drabs over several columns, I grouped them under a new heading,
"In Series." This won't happen often in the future, although I plan
to do the same thing with the 15 volumes of Verve's Free America
series before too long, and I see two more slightly smaller piles
in the queue.
Africa Unite: In Dub (2005, Echo Beach).
The group name comes from a Bob Marley song, reinforced here by the
opening remix of Marley's "Is This Love." The second piece is an
exceptionally lovely one called "A Sangue Freddo E In Pieno Dub" --
after all, the group, which dates back to 1981, comes from Italy.
Much of the rest was mixed or remixed, dubbed or redubbed, by Mad
Professor -- a relationship that isn't especially clear, especially
given that I haven't heard dub so light and graceful since Augustus
Pablo. Just goes to show that dub is universal, world music defined
not as foreign but as coming from everywhere.
This Right Here Is Buck 65 (2005, V2).
When Warners' Canadian subsidiary signed Nova Scotian dj/rapper
Richard Terfly they started by reissuing his whole back catalog
of clever rhymes and deft beats. They're all worth picking up on
your next drug run up north -- not least his first exploits on
Weirdo Magnet. When a U.S. label finally gets serious they
should do the same thing. Meanwhile, V2 has stuck one toe in the
water with this new album of older pieces recut with a band. The
remakes are toughened up, Buck 65's voice all grit and gravel,
the beats honed to sharp points -- maybe he figures menace is as
American as apple pie? Three new songs, one from Woody Guthrie
bathed in pedal steel. The rhymes astonish less the second time
around, and working with the band distracts from his search for
the perfect sample, but gives the music a consistent muscularity.
Billy Crystal Presents: The Milt Gabler Story
(1938-64 , Verve).
Gabler was Crystal's uncle, but he's better known as the founder of
Commodore Records, the producer of Billie Holiday's anti-lynching
lament "Strange Fruit," and for his long hit-making tenure at Decca.
At Commodore he specialized in hot jazz, only lightly sampled here
in tracks by Eddie Condon and Wild Bill Davison. Commodore was a
small independent, but at Decca he worked with stars like Bing
Crosby, the Andrews Sisters, Louis Jordan and Louis Armstrong,
while cultivating Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald and launching two
key songs that paved the way for rock and roll: Lionel Hampton's
(aka Illinois Jacquet's) "Flying Home" and Bill Haley's "Rock
Around the Clock." With so much to choose from, Crystal selected
a rich and wildly disparate schmeer of mostly '50s pazz and jop.
Irresistible: "The Glow Worm"; marvelous: "Little Things Mean a
Lot"; de trop: "Three Coins in the Fountain"; perfect closer
snuck in on a technicality, Nat King Cole's "L-O-V-E."
The Everly Brothers: It's Everly Time (1960 ,
The hits -- "Bye Bye Love," "Wake Up Little Susie," "All I Have to Do
Is Dream," "Bird Dog" -- didn't end when they left Cadence for Warners
but they tailed off, partly because that's the way it usually works.
The real career damage happened a couple of years later when they were
drafted and wasted by a U.S. Army that was powerless to fend off the
British Invasion. But for their first Warners album they were confident
enough to hold back "Cathy's Clown" -- their first Warners single and
last number one hit. Or too chintzy. Collectors' Choice has reissued
fifteen Warners Everlys albums in their original form, which means
short and mostly filler. This one gets by on their close harmonies,
but the songs aren't often up to the singers.
The Fall: 50,000 Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong (1978-2003
, Beggars Banquet, 2CD).
Mark E. Smith sings like John Lydon only less idiosyncratically, while
his bands play like New Order with more drone and no chance of lift-off.
And they've been doing this with near-perfect consistency for a quarter
of a century -- even the Ramones evolved more, peaked higher, and dipped
lower. Their second tier status makes their frequent albums marginal by
expectation, and they never were ones to surprise or disappoint. On the
other hand, one expects their infrequent compilations to sort them out
well enough to lift them to first tier, which is exactly what 458489
A-Sides did. But that was just one six year stretch. This one scales
up to 25 years, which proves to be no stretch at all.
Dizzy Gillespie: Dizzy: The Music of John Birks Gillespie
(1950-63 , Verve).
Two problems with this compilation: one is that it is a tie-in with
Donald L. Maggin's biography of Gillespie covers his whole career,
but the comp only surveys one chunk, leaving out his breakthrough (and
most famous) records on Musicraft, Savoy and RCA, the live concerts on
Vogue, the later sessions for Pablo; the other is that it slices
the Verve recordings so thin that it never develops any flow. Any
attempt to cover Gillespie's breadth would run into the latter
problem. We tend to think of bebop, hence Gillespie, as a small
group aesthetic -- as an explosion of individualist virtuosity
opposed to the previous big band era. Gillespie, of course, could
do that, but he grew up in big bands, invented bebop in big bands,
and continued to expand the horizons of big bands into the '60s --
indeed, the most scintillating music here is with his big band. If
this comp becomes your first encounter, you will be amazed. But be
aware that the two poles of his Verve recordings -- the big band
on Gillespiana and the jousts on Sonny Side Up are
more satisfactory and more amazing as separate discs. And that he
was even greater earlier on.
Wes Montgomery: Smokin' at the Half Note (1965 ,
The front cover shows this as originally credited, with the Wynton Kelly
Trio on top, Montgomery on the bottom. The Kelly Trio had its start as
the rhythm section of the Miles Davis Quintet, but when Miles decided
not to tour in the early '60s Kelly, Paul Chambers, and Jimmy Cobb set
out on their own. Montgomery had done his major work for Riverside up
to 1963 before moving to Verve where he mostly cut overly slick and
saccharine versions of pop hits, but this date has grown in his canon,
regarded by many as one of the essential milestones in jazz guitar.
That judgment strikes me as overly generous. The five cuts on the
original album -- three actually recut in the studio by Creed Taylor
after finding the originals somehow lacking -- were precariously
balanced between Kelly and Montgomery, providing tantalizing moments
of each. This new edition tilts the balance decisively toward the
guitarist with six extra cuts meant for radio, most with MC intros
and chatter, but most also with sterling examples of Montgomery's
The Rough Guide to Astor Piazzolla (1957-88 ,
World Music Network).
It's proper to regard the Argentine tango master as a composer --
indeed there are whole operas in his oeuvre -- but I prefer to think
of him as a performer, more specifically an improviser on his ever
present bandoneon. He rarely strayed from tango, but he turned it
out in a vast assortment of ways, like a brilliant chef might turn
out a panoply of ducks. The one early piece here is the odd one out,
still feeling much like he wishes to dignify tango as a classical
music, but when we jump into the '70s he's found a powerful groove,
and in that his own distinct voice and mission.
You Ain't Talking to Me: Charlie Poole and the Roots of
Country Music (1902-40 , Columbia/Legacy, 3CD).
Poole's group, the North Carolina Ramblers, arranged old tunes for
banjo, fiddle and guitar -- creating the classic string band sound
of what we now like to call old-timey music. Poole's banjo was the
group's engine, and he had a knack for tweaking songs to freshen
them up -- never wrote one, but renamed many, skipped a few verses
and swapped a lot of words. But more importantly, he had the first
great voice in country music: a deep but clear twang with a wry
twist, the prototype for everyone from Hank Williams to Peter
Stampfel. His first record in 1925 was his biggest hit, "Don't Let
Your Deal Go Down." He recorded 110 songs up through 1930, but as
the depression settled in he headed back to the Carolina mills
and his always heavy drinking, dying in 1931 after a prolonged
bender. He's not exactly unknown -- I've long treasured his three
discs on County, and note that JSP has just released a 4-CD set --
but Columbia, owner of most of his originals, ignored him until this
odd box. What's odd about it? Well, the packaging is a faux cigar
box, mostly air. Moreover, the second and third discs are only half
Poole. The other half are older versions of songs Poole covered,
going back as far as Arthur Collins in 1902 and a few more recent
versions -- the idea being to provide a context showing how Poole
worked and how country music evolved through him. Hank Spoznik's
booklet sorts out some of these details, but the rest is home study.
This should only be of interest to musicologists, but surprisingly
enough, the real obscurities that Poole's fame rescues here are
listenable and interesting in their own right, even though the
versions that stand out are Poole's.
Footprints: The Life and Music of Wayne Shorter
(1960-2001 , Columbia/Legacy, 2CD).
Shorter has been a major jazz figure since he recorded Introducing
Wayne Shorter in 1959, but he was unusual in his avoidance of the
spotlight. His major work early on was in bands led by Art Blakey and
Miles Davis, while his own records on Blue Note sort of lurked in the
background. He wasn't unnoticed: he was distinctive on tenor sax, and
later soprano sax, but he was even more noted as a composer, and his
tenures with both Blakey and Davis -- arguably the best periods either
ever had -- were built on his writing. But in 1970 he submerged under
Joe Zawinul's Weather Report fusion, and he wandered much thereafter,
only to emerge as a certifiable Living Legend with his recent string
of Verve albums. This particular comp was intended as a supplement
to a biography, so it's appropriate that it stradles every facet of
his career, but it does so uncomfortably. It ignores his Vee-Jays,
short changes his Blue Notes (cf. The Classic Blue Note Recordings,
with one disc from his own records and the other from others, and not
just Blakey), stoops to session work (Steely Dan, Joni Mitchell), and
ends with a mixed bag licensed from Verve, while padding heavily from
Legacy's own catalog. As befits a biography, it covers warts and all.
But most of us could pass on the warts.
John Corbett writes a column for Downbeat called "Vinyl Freak,"
where he digs up and reviews LPs so obscure they've never been reissued
on CD. But Corbett does more than write: since 2000 he has directed
Atavistic's Unheard Music Series -- now up 53 titles. Some are legends,
such as Alexander Von Schlippenbach's Pakistani Pomade (reviewed
back in Oct. 2003) and the early Joe McPhee records below. Some are
marginal even for historians. Most fall somewhere in between, and a
few really are undiscovered gems.
- Han Bennink: Nerve Beats (1973 , Atavistic):
an amazing drummer, as the cymbal thrash on "Spooky Drums" more than
points out; the title piece moves into another realm with a primitive
drum machine serving as backdrop for Bennink's free association on
trombone, clarinet, whatever, before he returns to form, banging on
anything he can reach.
- Peter Brötzmann Group: Fuck de Boere: Dedicated to Johnny
Dyani (1968-70 , Atavistic): two sprawling pieces: a
version of "Machine Gun," the big bang of European free jazz, and
the title piece, named for South African bassist Dyani's considered
opinion of those who then ran his homeland.
- Peter Brötzmann/Fred Van Hove/Han Bennink: FMP 130
(1973 , Atavistic): little bits are amusing, as when Van Hove
breaks into a little boogie woogie, which Bennink then tears to
shreds, but the norm here is chaos amplified by fire and fury.
- Brötzmann Clarinet Project: Berlin Djungle (1984
, Atavistic): Machine Gun with silencers, the clarinets'
softer tones muffle the usual squall, making it easier to parse the
- The Contemporary Jazz Quintet: Actions (1966-67 ,
Atavistic): one of the earliest prime examples of new thing in Europe,
influenced by Ayler but with Hugh Steinmetz's trumpet piled thick on
top of Franz Beckerlee's alto sax it is denser and richly brassy.
- Baby Dodds: Talking and Drum Solos (1946-54 ,
Atavistic): footnotes to jazz history produced by Frederic Ramsey Jr.;
old brass bands sounding ancient, King Oliver's drummer feeling spooky.
- Gerd Dudek/Buschi Niebergall/Edward Vesala: Open
(1977 , Atavistic): Dudek pursues Coltrane's ghost on two saxes,
flute and shenai -- an Indian oboe, like blowing into a buzzsaw; bass
and drums add dimensions, a concentrated interplay which free jazz
aspires to but rarely achieves.
- Globe Unity Orchestra: Globe Unity 67 & 70
(1967-70 , Atavistic): previously unheard excavations from
the basement strata of Europe's free jazz movement; huge groups,
huge sound, chaotic, cathartic, colossal.
- Globe Unity Orchestra & the Choir of the NDR-Broadcast:
Hamburg '74 (1974 , Atavistic): the tight discipline
of the choir is poignantly absurd in the midst of all these anarchist
horns, where the idea of bringing down the house is more like blowing
- Kees Hazevoet Quartet: Pleasure (1970 ,
Atavistic): Dutch unknowns improvising frantically, lucky enough
to be joined by the great South African drummer Louis Moholo, who
miraculously manages to tie it all together.
- Joe McPhee Quartet: Underground Railroad (1968-69
, Atavistic, 2CD): his first album, limited to 500 copies on
CJR Records, here greatly expanded with the earlier but previously
unreleased "Live at Holy Cross Monastery"; the album, inspired by
the previous century's escape from slavery, tingles with excitement,
especially when McPhee switches from tenor sax to piercing trumpet;
the live tape, with two extra players, sounds fainter and takes
longer to come together, which it does in a smashing drum solo.
- Joe McPhee: Trinity (1971 , Atavistic):
Mike Kull's piano exudes Sun Ra space vibes while drummer Harold
E. Smith keeps busy; McPhee works in patches, favoring tenor sax
over trumpet, rising to a powerful climax, but more often working
in a subtler vein.
- Hal Russell's Chemical Feast: Elixir (1979 ,
Atavistic): first recording by the grand odd man of the Chicago
avant-garde, starts with a hellacious rip on Ornette Coleman,
then gets weirder and woolier, with the NRG surging throughout.
- Mario Schiano: On the Waiting List (1973 ,
Atavistic): two, three, many horns pop out of the free rhythmic
turmoil, the efforts at harmony mutating in strange ways.
- Starship Beer: Nut Music: As Free as the Squirrels
(1976-88 , Atavistic). Kevin Whitehead's clarinet solo on
"Criminal Girlfriend" is free jazz weird, but a curve after they
started off with post-Stooges verbal chop suey, something about
Black/White or vice versa; not easy to classify, but just when you
think improvised hardcore comes close they scat or break out the
whistles or sing c&w through a defective CB.
- Sun Ra: Spaceship Lullaby (1954-60 , Atavistic):
home-recorded rehearsal tapes of bad vocal groups backed by little more
than Ra's piano; as weird as you'd figure, but not as weird as you might
- Per Henrik Wallin/Johnny Dyani/Erik Dahlbäck: Burning in
Stockholm (1981 , Atavistic): Wallin's piano rocks,
setting up huge cascades of rhythm, similar to Keith Jarrett's
famous Köln Concert, but tougher; moreover, bass and drums
are constantly engaged.
- Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass: The Lonely Bull
(1962 , Shout! Factory): nice packaging, the hit that launched
a career full of fake Mexican instrumental fluff, predictable filler
from "Desafinado" to "Tijuana Sauerkraut."
- Herb Alpert's Tijuana Brass: South of the Border
(1964 , Shout! Factory): a more consistent album, which means
that the filler doesn't break down so bad, even when they do "Hello
Dolly" and the Beatles; easy listening that's easy to listen to.
- Herb Alpert's Tijuana Brass: Whipped Cream & Other
Delights (1965 , Shout! Factory): an album of food
songs, more famous for Dolores Erickson's cover pose 'neath a
mountain of shaving cream than for the tune that got mashed up
with Public Enemy for my favorite bootleg of 2003.
- Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass: Lost Treasures
(1963-74 , Shout! Factory): of course, they're all fakes, mostly
plastic and cheese puffs; they could have built a comedy album around
such malaprops as "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" and "Flowers on
the Wall" and "Killing Me Softly," so feel free to laugh.
- The Gordon Beck Quartet: Experiments With Pops (1967
, Art of Life): the "pops" the pianist tackles are AM hits of the
day -- "These Boots Are Made for Walking," "Norwegian Wood," "Sunny,"
"Up, Up and Away," "Michelle," "I Can See for Miles," "Good Vibrations,"
"Monday, Monday" -- but there's nothing soft or saccharine about the
versions, and it's not gratuitous sacrilege either; the secret is the
great avant-garde drummer Tony Oxley and a young guitarist named John
- The Blind Boys of Alabama: Atom Bomb (2005, RealWorld):
anyone who thinks "Jesus hits like the atom bomb" don't know shit about
atom bombs, let alone Jesus; I realize these guys are old and set in
their ways, but we really need to get past the days of slavery
and apartheid and grasp that there are better responses to "suffering
here below" than "let's keep talking about Jesus," especially given how
much of "this world of trouble" is caused by folks with Jesus on their
tongues; on the other hand, I have no such complaints about "Presence
of the Lord," and note that the music improves too.
- Alpha Blondy: Elohim (1999 , Shanachie):
French reggae from Cote D'Ivoire, its loose skank sounding much
cheerier than the words, which detail transitions from fake
democracy to dictatorship, to sabotage and kleptocracy, and
(perhaps metaphorically) on to cannibalism.
- A Certain Ratio: Early (1977-85 , Soul Jazz):
one of the first important post-disco dance bands, their chunky
metallic rhythms and anonymous chanty vocals set the pattern for
everyone from Cabaret Voltaire to New Order; the "Early" disc holds
together remarkably well; "B-Sides, Rarities & Sessions" is a
- The Best Tango Album in the World . . . Ever!
(1982-2000 , Capitol, 2CD): hardly, but in trying to tuck
tango back into the realm of classical music it doesn't intersect
with anyone I've noticed -- well, one Piazzolla, one Tango Project;
but as classical music goes, it has quite some rhythm, and makes
for amusing background music to clean house to.
- The Essential Dion (1961-68 , Columbia/Legacy):
four key early hits tilt this toward the doo-wop he is famous for and
away from his interesting '60s folksinger phase (c.f. Bronx Blues:
The Columbia Recordings), but a couple of oddities break the mood,
and at 14 singles-length cuts it feels arbitrarily short.
- The Everly Brothers: A Date With the Everly Brothers
(1961 , Collectors' Choice): on their second Warners album the
songswriting improves, especially their own, but the obvious upbeat
covers feel nervous; past hit: "Cathy's Clown"; future hit for someone
else, "Love Hurts."
- The Everly Brothers: Sing Great Country Hits (1963
, Collectors' Choice): sing great, anyway; the country hits
are long on weepers, which is fine as long as they're plugged into
Don Gibson's irony or gems like "Born to Lose," but the only change
of pace that works is "I Walk the Line."
- The Everly Brothers: Roots (1968 , Collectors'
Choice): they always meant to go Nashville, but in terms of their choice
in covers, note that Merle Haggard is the same age as Don and didn't
exactly get an early start on his legit career, and Randy Newman's
younger than Phil; framed by snippets from a 1952 radio shot when the
teenage Brothers were still part of the Everly Family.
- Ella Fitzgerald: Sings the Jerome Kern Songbook
(1963 , Verve): great singer, pretty good songs, a perfectly
adequate orchestra led by the dependable Nelson Riddle; this came
late in the songbooks series and is something of a mop-up operation.
- Dizzy Gillespie: Odyssey (1945-52 , Savoy
Jazz, 3CD): early classics like "Groovin' High" and "Shaw Nuff,"
more r&b vocals than you'd expect (ranging from Sarah Vaughan
on "Lover Man" to Joe Carroll's Satchmo impersonation on "Pop's
Confessin'"), expansive big band, awesome trumpet; a Best Of
is also available and looks pretty choice, whereas this comes down
with a case of strings in the middle, but completism this historic
is its own reward.
- Billie Crystal Remembers Billie Holiday (1939-50 ,
Verve): Crystal predictably picks from the Commodore and Decca recordings
his uncle produced -- not her best-known work, not least because Gabler
never gave her the all-star bands that Teddy Wilson (early) and Norman
Granz (later) came up with; but if the point is just to hear her sing
she has rarely been more gripping, especially on the strings-backed
"God Bless the Child."
- Lyrics Born: Same !@#$ Different Day (2005, Quannum
Projects): after taking eons to release his breakthrough album (Later
That Day), Tom Shimura comes back fast with eons worth of remixed
experiments -- eight recycled from the album -- trading in conceptual
clarity for standalone funk and effervescent flow.
- The Best of Blind Willie McTell (1927-35 , Yazoo):
he plays and sings with such offhand grace and subtlety that he can
easily slip past you, and numerous overlapping comps make it all the
more difficult to settle on one; but this one, with 23 songs spanning
his Columbia and RCA output, sounds impeccable.
- The Essential Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes Featuring
Teddy Pendergrass (1972-75 , Epic/Legacy): a big part
of Philadelphia's rise to prominence as a soul factory, their lead
singer (not Harold Melvin) a primal force of nature saddled with a
bit too much help, remarkable and annoying at the same time.
- Mystikal: Prince of the South . . . the Hits
(1995-2004, Jive/Zomba): the gravel in his voice reminds one of
Howlin' Wolf, and the beats and rhymes are tough enough to make
you wonder what Wolf might have done had he lived in an era when
he could exaggerate his attitude instead of having to circumscribe
it; one would hope that Wolf might have come up with something
deeper than "Shake Ya Ass," but the odds of catchier are slim.
- The Essential O'Jays (1972-78, Epic/Legacy): upbeat
even though their people had much to fret about, probably because they
made money while black power burned, but compared to what came later
they were public spirited; and scoured of the slick Philly crud that
padded their albums, here they sound classic.
- Charlie Patton: Primeval Blues, Rags, and Gospel Songs
(1929-34 , Yazoo): the remastering is still far from ideal, the
surface noise still a nuisance, at least until the raw power of the
blues kicks in, as it still does; the song selection is split between
two older Yazoo comps, adding two or three bait cuts while leaving out
much more, and not quite packing the punch of either: an odd choice,
given that recent Patton scholarship has turned toward completism --
cf. the extravagant Revenant and economical JSP boxes.
- Washington Phillips: The Key to the Kingdom
(1927-29 , Yazoo): an exceptionally clean and conscientious
restoration of ancient recordings by the mild-mannered gospel
troubadour, who revealed, "I am born to preach the gospel, and
I sure do love my job."
- Kenneth Rexroth/Lawrence Ferlinghetti: Poetry Readings in
the Cellar (1957 , Fantasy): the Cellar Jazz Quintet
comps loosely behind Rexroth's furious paean to Dylan Thomas, then
opens up for Ferlinghetti's autobiographical musings; the jazz is
negligible, merely chasing the words, but the words dig deep.
- The Rough Guide to Bellydance (, World Music
Network): Middle Eastern dance music, one Turkish, mostly scattered
Arab, including a couple from California; recent (as far as I can tell),
but sounds archaic, with a focus on beat and body movement.
- The Rough Guide to the Music of China (,
World Music Network): long the sleeping giant of the modern world,
with an ancient classical music like none other, now hybridizing
in many directions; I like the ones that sound like tiny-voiced
c&w; also a rap piece, and some straight ballads.
- The Sound of Dub: Rare and Soundful Pearls From South Africa
in Dub (2005, Echo Beach): echologists scour the world for
signs of intelligent dub, finding cosmopolitan grooves from natives
like the Kalahari Surfers and DJ Dope; beware that the connection
to reggae is weak, and that the connection to mbaqanga is weaker
- The Best of Frank Stokes (1927-29 , Yazoo):
one of the older Memphis bluesmen, Stokes played in the Memphis
streets as a teenager around the turn of the century, and worked
popular songs of the period, like "Ain't Nobody's Business If I
Do," into his repertoire, as well as the more modern blues; he
kept a moderate tone, often working in duos with a second guitar
- Unclassics: Obscure Electronic Funk & Disco
(1978-85 , Environ): Europe's take on disco was to lay off the
soul vocals they couldn't hack and marvel in the beat machinery --
indeed, anything mechanical, not least processed robot-speak; the
13 cuts Morgan Geist rounded up here are more "un" than classic,
freaks of evolution as newly discovered legacy, all the more welcome
because they tap straight into the aorta of modern dance music.
- Per Henrik Wallin Trio: The Stockholm Tapes (1975-77
, Ayler): refreshing thrash, as Wallin's rockish piano takes a
back seat to the poking and prodding of Lars-Göran Ulander's alto sax,
but he's still more likely to chime against the grain than comp along.
In an infinite universe, all the music you'll ever need already
exists somewhere. We find more each month: country roots (Charlie
Poole), avant-jazz (Atavistic's Unheard Music Series), dub (Africa
Unite), Canadian rap (Buck 65), tango (Astor Piazzolla), jazz
legends (Dizzy Gillespie, Wayne Shorter), post-WWII pop (Milt
Gabler, Everly Brothers, Herb Alpert), much more (55 records).
Copyright © 2005 Tom Hull.