A Consumer Guide to the Trailing Edge: April, 2007 Recycled Goods (#42)by Tom Hull Back with new old music this month, although with breaks for January and March, there's still an element of catch-up here. I wrote up the Buddy Holly pick nearly six months ago, but held it when I discovered that Holly's Gold reissued The Buddy Holly Collection. That made me wonder how many plain reissues were buried in the series. Turns out that there are a handful, so I've noted the ones where I'm familiar with the originals. Back in the early '90s I bought first-generation CD compilations of most major artists, but since then I've rarely gone out of my way to check out how the second- and third-generation comps have fared. Before this column, I've only reviewed one Gold series album (Cream), and just eleven of the vast 20th Century Masters: The Millennium Edition series. I wouldn't mind doing more, but haven't made a big point of chasing them down. Tony Bennett: Duets: An American Classic (2006, RPM/Columbia): Fairly surefire from a marketing standpoint, almost a rite of passage these days for aging crooners, a field narrowed down by attrition and other limits to, well, Bennett alone. With Phil Ramone producing, the orchestra is competent if uninteresting. The songbook is firmly rooted on Bennett's home turf -- sure, Stevie Wonder shows up for "For Once in My Life" but Bennett's done it so many times he controls the pace. So nothing new. The songs rise and fall according to the guests: any surprise that Diana Krall is great, that James Taylor isn't, that George Michael sucks, or that Bennett winds up singing "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" alone? Still, given all the hype over Bennett's 80th birthday, did anyone notice that Chuck Berry's the same age? B The Essential Michael Bolton (1987-99 [2006], Columbia/Legacy, 2CD): I rather like his recycled soul classics -- it's not like Bill Withers, say, can't afford to carry a little extra weight, nor use the royalties. He is an impressive singer, with an original synthesis of raw soul emotion and heavy metal melodrama, minus the latter's extra musical baggage -- he's as likely to throw in a nice sax break. But he has severe limits: in particular, he's incapable of finessing anything soft or sexy, unlike every one of his soul icons. And his originals -- all co-credits, by the way, including Dylan and Babyface -- don't give him much help. What this has to do with opera is suggested by the Puccini, although the latter's fans may beg to differ. B- Peter Brötzmann Group: Alarm (1981 [2006], Atavistic): A radio shot from an exceptional nine-piece band of troublemakers, cut short by a bomb threat. The two-part title piece is punctuated by siren blasts, clipped down so firmly they hardly rise above the saxophones (Brötzmann, Willem Breuker, Frank Wright) and brass (Toshinori Kondo, Hannes Bauer, Alan Tomlinson). While the noise level is about average -- i.e., a couple notches below Machine Gun -- the rhythm section stands out: South Africans Harry Miller and Louis Moholo keep it all moving, while Alexander Von Schlippenbach's piano crashes against the waves. Wright sings a bit at the end, giving the whole thing a revival flair. B+ Dave Brubeck: For All Time (1959-65 [2003], Columbia/Legacy, 5CD): Famously educated, a student of modernist composer Darius Milhaud; bespectacled, he looked nerdy enough to vouchsafe his hit album Jazz Goes to College. Brubeck put all that education to use experimenting with time signatures far astray from standard 4/4, but it was actually his sidekick, alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, who wrote "Take Five" -- a 5/4 piece so elegant you never gave its unusualness a second thought. It was the clearest of the gems on Time Out (1959), an essential album for any jazz library. Like so many successes, it spawned sequels: Time Further Out, Countdown: Time in Outer Space, Time Changes, Time In. Most are available separately, or conveniently summed up in this box. The only piece I dislike is the kitschy "Elementals" from Time Changes: 16:35 of grossly orchestrated Sturm und Drang. But the Quartet pieces remind you that despite technical concerns, Brubeck was above all else a jazz improviser and that Desmond's alto tone was his perfect foil. A- Buddy Holly: The Definitive Collection (1956-58 [2006], Geffen/Chronicles): Born in Lubbock TX, so far removed from the centers of American culture that he stitched together his own unquestioning synthesis of everything: country, gospel, doo-wop, rockabilly, and pop from Tin Pan Alley to the Brill Building. The Brits who invaded in 1964 loved him, not least because he paved their way by inventing Merseybeat. Dead at age 22, his three years in the studio were so prolific this 26-cut summary omits "Reminiscing" and "Tell Me How" -- and he was so concise that whatever the reason was it wasn't space. His only limit was subject matter, which ranges from hopeful love songs to deliriously happy love songs. A Luna: Best of Luna (1992-2004 [2006], Elektra/Rhino): Originally from New Zealand, Dean Wareham's little group reminds one of the Go-Betweens with a dash of the Chills, but leaner and certainly not meaner. Their series of fine albums seemed slight even if fetching, their sonic signature a bare melodic reduction. How natural this was can be seen in Wareham's previous group, Galaxie 500, which took the Velvet Underground and stripped away the noise, the hooks, and the literate artiness until all they had left was the loping guitar. So the surprise here isn't that this stands alongside the albums. It's how it stitches them together into something more coherent and more compelling than the constituent parts. Maybe they were a great alt band after all. A Ike Quebec: It Might As Well Be Spring (1961 [2006], Blue Note): Great name, but a spotty career, cutting r&b 78s for Blue Note and Savoy in the late '40s, then reappearing from 1958-62, specializing in soul jazz 45s, before dying of lung cancer in 1963, age 44. All along he may have been more notable as Blue Note's a&r guy, recruiting Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell, Dexter Gordon, and many more. He played on Monk's early "genius" recordings, sounding confused. But by 1960 he developed a rich, lustrous tone to his tenor sax, and his blues and ballads bring out the joyous warmth of the instrument. This quartet with Freddie Roach on organ and Milt Hinton on bass has two originals that go down easy, but it's the well-worn standards that shine. A- Tropicália (1968-73 [2006], Soul Jazz): Mark Kurlansky's otherwise remarkable book 1968: The Year That Rocked the World offers only one sentence on Brazil: "In Brazil, armed violence that killed three protesters in the opening months of 1968 failed to keep students from protesting the four-year-old military dictatorship." The unreported revolt in Brazil included the tropicálistas, whose "Brazilian revolution in sound" is rooted more in late-'60s psychedelic rock than in the bossa nova and samba that seduced us in the early '60s. The movement involved more than music, but is best known through founders Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso, who survived arrest and exile to achieve international fame, and Tom Zé, who remained obscure until David Byrne's Luaka Bop label gave him some exposure. Odd, messy, unexpected -- revolutions are like that -- but a useful compilation, not least for its extensive documentation. A- UB40: Who You Fighting For? (2005 [2006], Rhino): England's great reggae group, formed in 1978 in Birmingham, named for the UK's dole card. They hit their stride in the early '80s, with singles collected on 1980-83 and an album of classic reggae remakes aptly titled Labour of Love, and tailed off gracefully, their natural groove smoothing over the songwriting decline. About the only good thing to come from political crises is that it feeds you material and a sense of urgency, so it's not surprising that this should be their best album in over a decade -- marred only by the smoothness of their natural groove. B+ In SeriesUniversal Music Group is the largest of the surviving majors with about 25% of the world market. It got there by acquiring formerly independent labels, which gives it an exceptionally deep catalogue. At present UMG's recycling is mapped to three cross-label series:
The following is not a real series review -- just an accumulation of recent Gold that I had held back pending some research into the reissue question. The British Invasion: Gold (1961-67 [2006], Hip-O, 2CD): Licensing problems hobble this and all similar projects -- nothing prime from the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Animals, Kinks, Dave Clark Five, Manfred Mann, Petula Clark, many others -- but this 36-cut selection fares better than the 54-cut, 3-CD set Hip-O released in 2004; one stretch -- "Wild Thing," "Bus Stop," "Sunshine Superman" -- even feels right. B+ The Gap Band: Gold (1979-92 [2006], Hip-O/Mercury, 2CD): Like the Isleys, the Wilson brothers never met a fad they didn't feel like copping, but while they were pros even at worst, the real gold here is in the funk toons -- compared to Parliament, they're awfully generic lyrically, but if you let your mind follow your ass, they'll drag you all around the dancefloor; but rise to the top in smaller comps, especially the laser-focused The 12" Collection (1979-83 [1986], Mercury). B+ Smokey Robinson & the Miracles: Gold (1959-2005 [2006], Motown/Chronicles, 2CD): This lurches into his solo work five songs into a second disc that starts with "Tears of a Clown," and includes one post-1991 cut, if indeed it is -- not sure that's the optimal way to slice his career up, but it provides a general intro to a long-term studio pro, slighting his early idiosyncrasies, if not his miracles. B+ Frankie Ruiz: Gold (1990-98 [2006], Hip-O, 2CD): Classic salsa, or standard-issue -- hard for a non-expert to tell, with the percolation, the punchy horns, and the choral interplay so consistent its formalism suggests mass production; but the singer, a Puerto Rican from New Jersey who lived hard and died young, is appealing enough to cut through the language barrier, sometimes. B+ '70s Soul: Gold (1970-79 [2006], Hip-O, 2CD): Enough cross-licensing to provide a general feel, but the skew toward the early '70s is notable -- only 7 of 36 songs hale from the second half of the decade, when disco and funk went their own ways, and still popular MOR sagged, proving forgettable. A- Conway Twitty: Gold (1958-91 [2006], MCA Nashville, 2CD): His early cuts sound like watered down Elvis Presley, but his voice developed further, epitomizing Nashville's peculiar form of macho -- nobody whined more convincingly about being fucked over by women; he's one of those acid tests -- you have to have a real soft spot for country bathos to like him, but over a long haul he recorded a couple of dozen classic tracks, and a lot more crap; this has more of the former than the latter. A- As mentioned above, some Gold titles are simple repackagings of previous compilations. For instance, the Chuck Berry recycles a 2000 compilation called The Anthology. I don't happen to have either Berry's Anthology or Gold, so can't say much about that, other than to point out that it seems like an unhappy compromise given the alternatives: The Definitive Collection perfectly fills a single CD, and if you want more the 3-CD Chess Box is the serious step up. However, I have heard several earlier compilations that have resurfaced as Gold, so will note them here. In general, the new packaging is cheaper and less informative, but the music is the same, presumably the sound is no worse, and the price has been cut. Marvin Gaye: Gold (1962-82 [2005], Motown, 2CD): Reissues The Very Best of Marvin Gaye [2001], including "Sexual Healing" from his one post-Motown album for an approximate career span; alternatively, Midnight Love is worth owning whole, and Anthology [1986] has even more classic Motown. A Buddy Holly: Gold (1954-59 [2005], Geffen, 2CD): Reissues The Buddy Holly Collection [1993], which at 50 songs goes way beyond the obvious picks; still, not even the covers and genre exercises diminish him -- they just add more facets to his uncanny rhythmic sense and irrepressible joi de vivre. A Motown Classics: Gold (1960-72 [2005], Motown, 2CD): Reissues Motown: The Classic Years [2000], the perfect intro for anyone who missed the '60s; even if, like me, you own multidisc comps by most of the artists and know every song by heart, this is worthwhile just for the intense pleasure of its rotation. A+ Hank Williams: Gold (1947-52 [2005], Mercury, 2CD): Reissues The Ultimate Collection [2002], which while shorter than possible at 42 cuts hit the right notes so consistently that it earned its title; don't know whether the documentation is up to standards, but musicwise this is the Rosetta Stone of country misery. A+ Briefly NotedCharly Antolini: Knock Out 2000 (1999, Inak): A big band drummer from Switzerland, whose early career bumped into Benny Goodman in 1959, turns in a pure drummer's album, every cut built around a beat up front, even when bass and percussion intend a fusion groove; the cover pics are all muscle, but like Buddy Rich, when Antolini wants to turn up the heat, he reaches for his brushes. B+ Bole 2 Harlem: Volume 1 (2006, Sounds of the Mushroom): Ethiopians in Harlem, straddling two worlds, without particular favor or discomfort either way; they call it "world flow," but you might think of it as the more benign face of globalization. B+ Peter Brötzmann/Albert Mangelsdorff/Günter Sommer: Pica Pica (1982 [2006], Atavistic): Mangelsdorff was the first major figure in European avant-jazz, an astonishing trombonist; Brötzmann was a younger fire-breathing saxophonist; the trio with drums if full of give and take, an exchange of generations and complexities. B+ Lattimore Brown: Little Box of Tricks (1965-70 [2006], AIM): A soul singer on Nashville's Sound Stage 7 label, Brown had all the tools but not the luck or the songs -- two of the more memorable ones here are spirited tributes to Pickett and Redding. B+ Ornette Coleman: To Whom Who Keeps a Record (1959-60 [2007], Water): Outtakes from Change of the Century and This Is Our Music, released only in Japan until Beauty Is a Rare Thing: The Complete Atlantic Recordings boxed them; they are typical of Coleman's classic quartet, barely overshadowed by the first tier studio albums, and all the more interesting for generous helpings of Don Cherry's pocket trumpet. A- Corbett Vs. Dempsey: Eye & Ear (1943-2004 [2006], Atavistic): Sounds old and new, found and conjured, for ambiance in a gallery exhibition themed on the dialectics of artist and musician; jazz critic Jon Corbett offers interesting scholarship, but the snatches of Pee Wee Russell clarinet and Sun Ra singing tend to get lost in sound effects as abstract as the painting most likely is. B Kenny Dorham: Trompeta Toccata (1964 [2006], Blue Note): A hard bop trumpeter very fond of Latin rhythms, something he explored in 1955's Afro-Cuban (Blue Note) and returned to frequently, including this his last album; Joe Henderson is a tower of strength on tenor sax, and Tootie Heath's cymbals suffice for the clave. B+ Christoph Gallio/Urs Voerkel/Peter K Frey: Tiegel (1981 [2006], Atavistic): A work tape recorded in Zurich by three minor figures in the Swiss avant-garde -- soprano saxophonist Gallio went on to form Day & Taxi, pianist Voerkel and bassist Frey lived in a house with Irčne Schweizer and other luminaries; 13 mostly short improvs, delicate, articulate, sharply drawn. B+ Closet Freak: The Best of Cee-Lo Green the Soul Machine (1995-2004 [2006], Arista/Legacy): This condenses two good albums from the Goodie Mobster's brief pre-Gnarls Barkley solo phase, improving on neither by spotting the guest shots and backfilling from his ATL-ien pre-history. B+ Bobby Hutcherson: Happenings (1966 [2006], Blue Note): A quartet matching the leader's vibes with Herbie Hancock's piano, the latter taking the lead on a pair of lovely slow pieces, while the vibes run off with the fast ones; Hancock's "Maiden Voyage" gets an especially sensitive reading. A- Journey: Captured (1981 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): But, unfortunately, not executed; arena rock was designed to survive the bad acoustics of cavernous stadia, not be enhanced by them. D+ Journey: Frontiers (1983 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): This one comes close to making something out of their aesthetic: simple melodies, muscular synth and guitar, emphatically loud vocals, all traits necessary to make themselves heard in huge spaces; one relatively spare rocker called "Back Talk" suggests they might have been America's answer to Queen, if only they had a sense of humor. C+ Journey: Raised on Radio (1986 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): Booklet has more tour pics and dates; disc has two bonus live tracks; they certainly know where their bread was buttered, but they don't seem to be cognizant of much else, in an utterly ordinary album by any standards -- even their own. D Journey: Trial by Fire (1996 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): After a ten year hiatus, they come back storming with aperçus like "all's fair in love and war/but war is hell"; actually, that's not fair, but it's the only lyric I noticed; the music has attained the same level of disinterest, even though forced attention suggests they're still going through the motions. D+ Kayhan Kalhor/Erdal Erzincan: The Wind (2004 [2006], ECM): Improv based on traditional Persian and Turkish themes, with Kalhor's fiddle-like kamancheh cutting against Erzincan's oud-like (or more roughly guitar-like) bagalama: two string instruments, one arco, one pizzicato; fascinating, erudite music, coming more out of classical than folk traditions, where improvisation is part of the game plan. B+ Matisyahu: Youth (2006, JDub/Epic): Your basic Hasidic reggae-copping hip-hopper: a concept more intriguing in theory than in fact, mostly because the standard issue beats marshal the words past you before they have a chance to sink in -- or maybe they just lack the weight, given that G-d can be trivial as well as profound. B Jay McShann: Hootie Blues (2006, Stony Plain): A Kansas City bandleader while still a young man in the '40s, famous for discovering Charlie Parker but his main business was jump blues, and when the big bands went bust, he reinvented himself as the last of the whorehouse piano players, surviving Ralph Sutton to claim sole title; this was truly his last, the end of an era. B+ Lee Morgan: The Cooker (1957 [2006], Blue Note): Relatively early, in fact still in his teens, but Morgan's trumpet sound is loud and clear, contrasting brilliantly with Pepper Adams' baritone sax, with a young Bobby Timmons on piano. B+ Steve Perry: Street Talk (1984 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): The inevitable solo move by a frontman who gets too much credit for his band's success because he sings so emphatically; working with studio hacks, he finally makes you appreciate Neil Schon; it's amazing that pseudo-Journey can annoy even more than the original. D Steve Perry: For the Love of Strange Medicine (1994 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): Second solo album, a full decade after the first -- at least he's not prolific; less immediately reminiscent of his former (and soon to be regrouped) band, more of a crooner album, not that this loudmouth is ultimately seductive. C- Steve Perry: Greatest Hits (1977-98 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): Maybe not the weakest case ever for a "hits" package: 4 of 5 songs from his first album charted top-40, as did 1 of 4 from his other album and a 1982 single released under Kenny Loggins' name, but 7 cuts come from an aborted 1988 exercise, and the other one is a demo that allegedly landed him the Journey job. D+ John Phillips (John the Wolfking of L.A.) (1970 [2006], Varčse Sarabande): The Mamas and the Papas go solo, down to one papa, shorn of the pomp and fluff the group ran on when the hits thinned out, with a bit of roots to match the stubble of his beard; more promising than the his non-career delivered, padded with eight bonus tracks. B+ Bobby Powell: Louisiana Soul (1979 [2006], AIM): Blind pianist-singer, weaned on gospel, slumming in soul, cut some singles for Jewel and Whit in the late '60s and this obscure album on Hep Me later; plays upbeat, sings over the top, sounds like a juiced up Bobby Womack working ordinary but surefire material. B Putumayo Presents: A New Groove (2003-06 [2007], Putumayo Grooves): Laptop-based trip-hop, minus the doom and gloom, from the far-flung corners of the first world, if not directly the second or third; neither well-defined nor exotic enough to need a primer, which is fine -- the cosmopolitan obscurities are winning in their own right. B+ Putumayo Presents: Radio Latino (2001-06 [2006], Putumayo World Music): Concept: "some of our favorite songs that have been heard on Latin music radio stations from Miami to Montevideo, Bogotá to Barcelona"; caveat: "as well as a few songs by rising stars who we're sure will be heard on the airwaves in years to come"; makes me wonder what the Spanish for payola is. B Don't You Know Who I Think I Was? The Best of the Replacements (1981-2006 [2006], Sire/Reprise/Rhino): A classic trajectory, peaking with two of the great rock albums of the '80s -- the raw rock on Let It Be (1984) and the polished songwriting on Tim (1985) -- with the rough early albums offering hints of what was to come and the later cushioning decline with professional skills; two new bait cuts rebrand Paul Westerberg's solo career -- a 1991-2005 gap here that also follows the classic trajectory. B+ Revenge of Blind Joe Death: The John Fahey Tribute Album (2006, Takoma): The various artists here hew so closely to Fahey's guitar style that this tribute not only flows smoothly, it comes close to converging into a single mind -- compensation, for sure, for the fact that Fahey is no longer with us; one cut that stands out is Henry Kaiser and John Schott on "Steamboat Gwine 'Round the Bend/How Green Was My Valley," where they amplify Fahey's tone and double it up. B+ Boz Scaggs: Hits! (1972-85 [2006], Columbia/Legacy): A white soul singer with more taste than chops -- cites Ray Charles as his inspiration, but Smokey Robinson and Van Morrison were more obvious models, although pale comparisons; the hits were minor -- "Lowdown" was the sole top-10 at #3, seven more cracked top-40 -- and forgettable. B Moody Scott: Bustin' Out of the Ghetto (1968 [2006], AIM): New Orleans soul man, cut these obscurities for Sound Stage 7 in Nashville; he seems to be fishing around for a style, but hits when he checks Joe Tex, and picks up steam when he gets funky; eventually wound up in Las Vegas, where he still works. B+ Vieux Farka Toure (2006 [2007], World Village): Don't know if the name is given -- who in their right mind would name a son "old man"? -- but judging from the music it is well earned: the second coming of Ali Farka Toure's desert blues, moderated by the more intricate sound of Toumani Diabaté's kora, with a bit of the father's last guitar patched in as if passing a baton. B+ Conway Twitty: 25 Number Ones (1958-86 [2004], MCA Nashville): I don't trust his Number Ones any more than any other arbitrary selector, but with 55 to choose from, it shouldn't be hard to come up with 25 worth hearing, and this misses more than it misses with; four duets with Loretta, two songs done better by Gary Stewart and Ray Charles, his only pop hit (1958, "It's Only Make Believe"), one called "Touch the Hand" that earns its mammoth conceit. A- Lead-in:In an infinite universe, all the music you'll ever need already exists somewhere. We find more each month: crooners (Tony Bennett, Michael Bolton), croakers (Journey, Steve Perry), jazz from the time (Dave Brubeck, Ornette Coleman) and out on the fringe (Peter Brotzmann), pensive rock (Luna), universal gold (Buddy Holly, Hank Williams, Motown Classics); much more (50 records). NotesThe following is a list of Universal's 2-CD Gold series -- at least what I've been able to find. Some of these are candidates for ACN. The following have been confirmed on UMGD:
The following are various artists compilations, again confirmed on UMGD:
The others appear to exist, often only as imports:
UMG's The Definitive Collection series includes the following ($13.98 list):
The following are listed as imports, but appear to be in The Definitive Collection series:
UMG's 20th Century Masters: The Millennium Collection includes ($9.98 list):
Imports:
Copyright © 2007 Tom Hull. |