Tag: music blogs

JULY 2024: The Best Newish Releases I Lived to Listen to This Month

‘Twas hard to squeeze in extended and deep listening this month, what with a long and much-needed vacation in Dauphin Island, Alabama, and difficult family matters, but I hung in there. The beach, two rounds of fresh shrimp off a Bayou Le Batre fishing boat, ample portions of Blue Moon, tons o’ time spent with my very best friends and my beloved (I was the house DJ but stuck to old favorites from our past for the most part–along with Fox Green’s new album*), two great audiobooks that cut the feeling of a long-ass drive in half [Tommy Orange’s Wandering Stars and James McBride’s The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store (still only 67% finished, so don’t send me any spoilers)], and a late-breaking political surprise have done wonders for my mood. And just finishing Ann Powers’ neat Joni Mitchell book led to that estimable music critic’s possible engagement with an upcoming class of mine, during which the students will read, write, and talk about Powers’ equally sterling tome, Good Booty! I need to quit being so emo on this blog….

OK, to the music: lots of new jazz, a clear-cut AOTY possibility which may surprise my handful of readers (don’t sleep on Corb Lund*!), a face-punch of an envoi from X, a fresh blues/r&b voice from (of all places) Memphis. Dig in!

Recorded in 2024

Note: If listed as “self-released,” know that I tried.

[ahmed]: Giant Beauty (fonstret) – When I came back from vacation, news of this somewhat mysterious multi-national improvisatory unit’s five-disc exploration of bassist Ahmed Abdul-Malik’s work piqued me as deeply as I can be piqued, then I discovered they were damned serious about their journey and exciting in making it–then, while prepping this post, I listened to their 2023 Abdul-Malik quest Super Majnoon and it might just be better.

Charles Gayle / Milford Graves / William Parker: WEBO (Black Editions) – Gayle could wail, Graves kept all collaborators on their toes with his nimble mind, feet, hands, and heart (both men have gone to meet ‘Trane), and Parker remains simply the reigning master bassist in jazz, so this 1991 concert–the trio seldom recorded together–is special.

John Escreet: the epicenter of your dreams (Blue Room Music) – The above two records roar, and with everything going on in our world they might be too much; however, the fleet inventiveness of Brit pianist Escreet, who’s worked with players ranging from Dr. Tyshawn Sorey to Floating Points, might be more up your alley, especially with Mark Turner, a kind of 21st century Lester Young, flowing beside him on tenor.

Fox Green*: Light Over Darkness (self-released) – I once yelled in a garage band in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and, if we’d been able to stay together over time, considering what we have otherwise ended up doing with our lives, I’d like to think we could have (only) come within spitting distance of this smart Little Rock Americana-rock unit–and have been proud of that.

Boldy James & Conductor Williams: Across the Tracks (self-released) – I’ve tried with Detroiter James’ last few albums, and they’ve just taken me halfway there, so it’s funny that, among other things, cameos from very young guest MCs put this over for me.

Janel Leppin: Ensemble Volcanic Ash—To March is to Love (Cuneiform) – This is cellist/composer Leppin’s second excellent album of 2024–the first was the wonderfully spacy New Moon in the Evil Age, a duet with her husband Anthony Pirog on which she also sings–and its wide-ranging sounds are anchored by the justifiably ubiquitous bassist Luke Stewart, who along with Leppin is making a run at Jazz Musician of the Year.

Corb Lund*: El Viejo (New West) – This is an AOTY-worthy country concept album about gambling–not simply with a hand of cards–and Lund’s writing (he has occasional assistance) and his band’s living-room playing are astoundingly sharp.

Charles McPherson: Reverence (Smoke Sessions) – Along with Bobby Watson, McPherson is one of the last of the great Charlie Parker torch-carriers, though here he demonstrates that he’s learned plenty of other moves in his eighty-five years on the most recent of a shining run of records…and I get to see him live in a few months!

Moor Mother: The Great Bailout (Deluxe Edition) (Anti-) – Camae Ayewa never takes a historical prisoner, and this is one of two excellent and musically complex Afrofuturism-meets-Europastism records of 2024 (the other being Red Hot Org / Kronos Quartet’s Sun Ra tribute Outer Spaceways Incorporated)–but for that you have to get the deluxe version.

David Murray: Francesca (Intakt) – Twenty years ago, poring over jazz record guides and hunting down a myriad of terrific Murray releases on DIW, I just knew this guy couldn’t keep up such prolific musical fecundity for much longer….

Pet Shop Boys: Nonetheless (Parlophone) – The limited series It’s a Sin, which I took in several years ago, sent me back to luxuriate in the power, wit, and effervescence of the first PSB albums, and, though the world has taken a toll on the last of those, and though “wit” seems too light a word for the wisdom on display here, they remain…unbowed.

Roberto Ottaviano: Lacy in the Sky with Diamonds (Clean Feed) – Jazz fans familiar with the other Steve Lacy probably won’t think that’s a terrible title–the band’s aim in this tribute is to write the mighty soprano saxophonist’s name in the sky, and they nail it, especially the leader.

Red Kross: Red Kross (In the Red) – They definitely still got it, and I really hear prime Raspberries in this one.

Rempis / Adasiewicz / Abrams / Damon (coming in October): Propulsion (Aerophonic Records) – All four of these men are superior improvisors, but Jason Adasiewicz, who last year transformed AACM star Roscoe Mitchell’s compositions into something completely different on an album of his own, is the star, laying a calming bed of imaginative, evocative vibes underneath the others’ blooms of sound.

Chappell Roan: The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess (Atlantic) – Straight outta Willard, Missouri, an unfettered soul that has not a little in common with none other than Little Richard–yeah, I said it!

Christopher Rountree / Wild Up: 3BPM (Brassland) – Though I was a bit disappointed in Wild Up’s fourth volume of Julius Eastman tributes/interpretations, I still buy sound-unheard anything with which they associate their name, and founder Rountree’s debut, enlisting the group’s help, tops it.

Taliba Safiya: Black Magic (self-released EP) – The Memphis blues again–with a vengeance.

SAULT: Acts of Faith (self-released) – Now you’ll have to lean on Soulseek or your pals for it, or wait–I never can with them–and you’ll have to believe me when I say it’s near the top of the group’s pretty solid catalog, thanks to a Mayfieldian streak running through its 32 unbroken minutes.

Ren: Sick Boi (renmakesmusic.com) – Unlike Eminem, Ren’s really ill; also unlike Eminem, Ren’s really ill.

Takkak Takkak: Takkak Takkak (Nyege Nyege Tapes) – It’s hard to keep up with releases from this Kampala label, and I’ve tried, but out of them all, turned up loud, this one thumps so hard and weird I immediately played it twice.

Natsuki Tamura & Satoko Fujii: Aloft (Libra) – Tamura (trumpet) and Fujii (piano) are married in more ways than one; they’ve made several duet albums and their telepathy is well-honed here.

X: Smoke & Fiction (Fat Possum) – The band thanks the original Ramones by first name in the notes, open with what sounds like a tribute, then proceed to say so long to us and their partnership in style: Zoom zooming, Bonebrake cracking the skins hard, and John and Exene harmonizing like yesterday was tomorrow. (The LP version was released early, without a lyric sheet, or I’d comment on those–what I could pick up seems appropriately bittersweet.)

New Archival Excavations (a somewhat paltry selection, but I welcome tips):

Bessie Jones, John Davis, the Georgia South Sea Island Singers with Mississippi Fred McDowell and Ed Young: The Complete “Friends of Old-Time Music” Concert (Smithsonian) – The musical Bessie many know best is Smith, the Mississippi bluesman they may be most familiar with John Hurt, but Jones was one of the greatest folk-gospel singers of all-time, and McDowell, best known as the source of The Rolling Stones’ “You Got to Move,” played spiritual tunes with as much–possibly more–stinging fire than he did blues.

Kalaparusha Maurice McIntyre: Rivbea Live! Series, Volume 1 (No Business) – AACM stalwart meets primo NYC Loft-era setting for serious fireworks.

January 2024: Music I Lived to Listen To (Plus Stuff)

Happy New Year! In the interesting of preserving my sanity–I hereby validate the fears of some of my handful of readers, upon scanning 200+-album lists, that I must be compromising my mental health–I am going to try to do something new with this blog in 2024. First, I’m not going to keep a running list; every month, I’m first going to list the 10-15 new records that grabbed me that month; then, I am going to gab about old stuff (not just reissues and archival digs) plus music-related experiences I had–yes, I don’t just lay on the couch surrounded by cats with my nose in a book and 10-12 albums queued up to play on or through my stereo. I do live. Sorry, as you might already have surmised–I’m really talking to myself. So here goes.

My Favorite 10 New Releases of the Month (alphabetically presented)

*Archival or Reissue

Acceleration Due to Gravity: Jonesville/ Advancing on a Wild Pitch: Disasters, Volume 2 (both featuring the writing and playing of Moppa Elliott—known for leading the oft-exciting and -interesting band Mostly Other People Do The Killing—and both on Hot Cup Records)

I’ve enjoyed several records by MOPDTK in the past, but didn’t dig in enough to know that Elliott led the band from behind his bass. The guy has definite ideas about how to name a band. Seriously speaking, these two records are very strong jazz, the former highlighting compositions by jazz great Sam Jones via a terrific nine-piece band that features the impressive young guitarist Ava Mendoza excelling in a more disciplined format than I’ve ever heard her in, the latter, also conceptual but moodier, made up of compositions representing preventable Pennsylvania disasters that will have me checking out Volume 1.

Friends & Neighbors: Circles (Clean Feed)

Straight out of Trondheim, Norway, this quintet contributes to my growing feeling that I straight-up love Scandinavian jazz. I’m sure there’s BAD Scandinavian jazz, but I’ve been engaged by almost every such record I’ve heard in the last few years. Unsurprisingly, given the band and album name, Ornette is close to this band’s heart, and you can hear it.

Satoko Fujii Trio: Jet Black/ Satoko Fujii and Kaze: Unwritten (both on Libra Records)

I knew nothing about the astoundingly prolific and consistently powerful Japanese pianist Fujii until I wound up on a mailing list and received a few review copies that sent me on a deep dive into her OVER 100 HUNDRED RELEASES and she shows no signs of slowing down. Whether working in a small or large combo, she composes and plays pieces that have very focused moods and complex structures, while allowing room for improvisations by her always high-quality supporting casts. I think of her work as stormy and meditative, and she works seemingly endless variations on producing that feeling. These two records are a great start for the beginner.

Ghetto Brothers: Power-Fuerza (Vampisoul)*

Vampisoul is a Spanish label I keep a close eye on because they often package very interesting vintage releases inexpensively. For example, they offer loads of ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s cumbia; I’ve pigged out on those without being disappointed. The label calls this one a “Latin funk classic,” but it’s also got some decent romantic songs. You might have to be a bit patient.

Enrique Heredia Trio (with Pere Soto and Xavi Castillo): Plays Herbie Nichols (Fresh Sound Jazz)

I know little about Heredia or the other members of his trio, but I instantly purchased this due to my love for the short-lived Nichols’ distinctive compositions (see also A. B. Spellman’s book Four Lives in the Be-Bop Business). I wasn’t sure how a guitar trio would navigate them, but just when you think Heredia is fading into that kind of picking you’ve never liked in this genre, he leans into some mild distortion and slurring to keep you upright. The trio works up a killer groove while staying true to Nicols’ originality.

Abdullah Ibrahim: 3 (Gearbox)

The South African pianistic master turns 90 this October and he sounds undimmed in this studio-and-live trio recording (double bass/cello + flute/piccolo!) featuring his own compositions plus a few by Monk, Ellington and others.

Anna Kiviniemi Trio: Eir (We Jazz)

If you do not follow Chris Monsen’s Substack and you—like me, as I just said—like Scandinavian jazz, please rectify that, as Mr. Monsen has a nigh-infallible ear. I picked up on his plug for this, and was surprised and delighted by its gentle, inventive eloquence. It’s a pretty good month for jazz trio records, if haven’t noticed and /or trust me.

Mark Masters and Adam Shroeder: CT! (Capri Records)

I’ll put it simply: this big band tribute to the work of the irrepressible trumpeter and fluegelhorn enthusiast Clark Terry for the occasion of his 100th birthday is smashing because it captures Terry’s uplifting energy. I’m not that much of a big band fan, but the ebullience of the group quickened my pulse, and Terry would definitely have approved. Masters arranges brilliantly and bari saxophonist leads the group.

Malcria: Fantasias Histericas(Iron Lung)

Had enough of me pluggin’ jazz? Well, ok then: how ‘bout some Mexican hardcore punk? Me, I needed it, and I bet Mexico does, too. I’ve yet to dive into translations, but they kick ass…and I think they’re on the side of the angels.

Montanera: A Flor de Piel (Western Vinyl)

I have developed a weakness for chanteuses embedded in atmospheric musical settings and seeming to sing in very specific chains like the sea. I don’t trust myself in my warm response to this Colombian with a master’s, but my students walked in to her music yesterday and were inspired to ask about it, so maybe I’m right. Isabelia Herrera makes a fascinating case for the album on Pitchfork that is beyond my means, and it feels right. The title apparently translate to “on edge” or “at skin level,” which adds a level of richness to listen for.

R.A.P. Ferreira & Fumitake Tamura: the First Fist to Make Contact When We Dap (Alpha Pup)

Trust Ferreira’s own words about the release, via the album’s Bandcamp site: “…this album more than any other i’ve made encapsulates my vision of rap music. it is free. it is international. it is beloved. it is sharp and silly. it presents one way and participates another. it flexes and is flexible. there is study and there is the mystical. slices and crumbs. it’s something my whole family listened to and enjoyed first.” And trust the words he spits that live up to that vision. He continues to honor the work of one of his guiding lights, Bob Kaufman.

Lou Reed: Hudson River Meditations (Light in the Attic)*

Frankly, my wife and I meditate. This music was created to support that, and it does. The opening track is ideally looped for focused awareness of just being; the bass throb of the second reminds you of your body. Well, that’s enough for now, but I can listen to it for pleasure and reading, too.

Sleater-Kinney: Little Rope (Loma Vista)

I have never been an S-K fanatic—I saw them live on the last Weiss tour and they rocked my ass, and I still dig and dig out Dig Me Out—and the last couple haven’t helped, but I really like this one. The writing’s excellent, the drums are fine…but there’s a new Rosanne Cash-like ache to Tucker’s vocals I hadn’t picked up before that keeps me locked in.

Kali Uchis: Orquideas (Geffen)

Uchis keeps getting better. She’s very assured here, her singing and the rhythms are very seductive, and…again…I have three obligations in this list alone…I need to check out the translations, but I love the sound of her singing in Spanish. Sound is enough.

Wildernauts: Wildernauts (Don Giovanni)

It’s a joy to hear Pete Stampfel’s voice further up the road to recovery—really, he’s there—and his fiddle joyfully scratching out not only some old ones but also (as far as I can tell) a new weird and funny one called “Peyote Blues.”

My Favorite Music Experiences, Late Discoveries and Dives Into Music I Already Have But Barely Have Time to Listen To (One-Sentence Limit!)

Musical Poker Night—at almost 62, I’ve lost several friends and sometimes feel isolated and lonely for buds, but, thanks to someone’s recommendation, I was invited to a kind of “Record Poker” night where we took turns playing stuff for each other, and, while I created a Carnival theme out of the 45s I brought, I got to hear some interesting noise records and some really quite fetching proto-dream-pop by Terry “Seasons in the Sun” Jacks’ sister!

Danny Brown—Everything I’ve ever heard by him I’ve liked, but due, I think, to the avalanche of stuff that rumbles into my ears, I’d never “taken his CDs to the truck” for a very close listen: Be Real 2.0 with much better range in subject matter and mood, plus it’s got to be hard to pull off autumnal rap.

Chet Baker book leads to Twardzik and Freeman—I finally cracked and read James Gavin’s painful Chet Baker bio Deep in a Dream, in which the facts reveal Baker able to make Jerry Lee Lewis seem like David Gates, but at least I was moved to check out the pianistics of the doomed Dick Twardzik (whom Baker may have left to die when he was overdosing) and the not-doomed Russ Freeman (check out Richard Meltzer’s interview with him in A Whore Just Like the Rest).

Hannah Ewens and Fans—I am just a really big fan of UK Rolling Stone editor and FANGIRLS author Hannah Ewens—I have an “intellectual” rock and roll crush on her, I think—and chose to teach that book to my current group of college freshman, unaware that it would perfectly dovetail into Taylor Swift ruining football and prove Ewens’ wisdom.

Birmingham Influence—Did you know how wide Birmingham, Alabama’s influence was on nearly the whole of pre-WWII jazz (plus post- if you count Sun Ra and Basie’s rebound), because if you didn’t, please read Burgin Mathews’ Magic City, which one of my remaining great buds (almost all of whom live miles upon miles away) gave me for Christmas.

Cuticles!!!—Why the hell didn’t I know (too late for the lists) that one of the best rock and roll albums of 2023 is funny as hell and came out of New Zealand—someone shoulda told me, and thankfully Isaac Davila did, albeit this month?

Embarrassment Documentary + Toons—I was an Embarrassment fan back in their days, but hadn’t listened to them in awhile, and I bet neither have you; should you want to change that, please watch the documentary We Were Famous Once, Don’t You Remember, one of the best-ever made on an ‘80s indie band, this one from WICHITA, not LAWRENCE!!!

Joni Mitchell Carnegie Hall Thrills—I have very mixed feelings about these big boxes repackaging a ton of stuff we already have, but by god, this concert wedged into the Asylum Years set makes my short hairs stand up for most of its duration, and I prefer her backed by a band.

Good to My Earhole: 2,119-Mile Texas Trip

As is my habit, I set up a 400-song folder of Texas songs on our car’s iPod. In addition, I packed the audiobook of John Waters’ CARSICK, knowing it would be riddled with the cracked songs that are like illicit delicacies to The Prince of Puke. Here were our standout musical moments:

Jimmie Dale Gilmore: “Reunion” (with Lucinda Williams), “Just a Wave,” “Bhagavan Decreed” (with The Flatlanders)

We have long been familiar with this one-of-a-kind Texan, who fuses Eastern religion with the honky tonk upstairs, and Marty Balin (!) with Hank Williams Sr. But as many of you surely know, in close quarters and on long drives, songs you thought you knew cold unfold in new ways, or simply splash cold water in your face to remind you how great they are. Respectively, Jimmie a) tells his departing lover (via death? break-up?) that the Cosmos does not allow for true parting; b) is told by a departing lover that, however strong his love is, it is only a few cubic feet of what she needs and wants from the other waves (I emphasize the plural) in the ocean; d) reminds the profligate apple of his eye that “the highest place is under ground.” Sui generis, baby, sui generis.

Lightnin’ Hopkins: “Needed Time”

Have heard it a million times, always figured it was the original “Kumbaya” before it got clumsily Africanized by uncomprehending Christian Caucasians, then got pulled up short by what I think has been a mishearing on my part: “Now is a needed time.” Always thought it was “Now that I’ve needed time.” Just a slight adjustment makes it more desperate, more humbly pleading, more communal–even more of a masterpiece, one among many created by ol’ Sam. I could be wrong, but, sorry, folks, from here on I will choose to be.

Various Artists: John Waters’ CARSICK (unofficial soundtrack not yet available, but buy the book directly from Atomic Books, please!)

Waters has a killer record collection–I have seen part of it–and it makes an impact on everything he films and writes. The tunes in Carsick mostly energize the “Good Ride” and “Bad Ride” fantasies that precede his true tale of Baltimore-to-Frisco hitchhiking, and, after dutifully listening carefully and tracking all the songs on YouTube (not all are available there, a tribute to Waters’ eye for the obscure), I was dismayed to find the entire track listing helpfully supplied by the author at the end of the hard copy. It ain’t Texas music, but it kept us sane driving through that endless state:

Soundtrack

Note: the book itself is excellent–among the many things it is (which includes severely aberrant), it is a warm testament to the decency and good cheer of the random citizen of the Yew Ess Ay! I shit you not!

Blind Willie Johnson: “God Moves On the Water,” “Take Your Stand”

The great intinerant country gospel singer whose “grain of voice” makes Howlin’ Wolf’s sound like Michael Buble (well, I am exaggerating a little) probably/maybe hailed from Marlin, Texas. I will let the scholars wrestle, but, upon traveling through Marlin, we could hear his wail whipping around the little town–and it’s 2014, not 1930.

Joe King Carrasco and the Crowns: “Let’s Get Pretty,” “Buena”

As Nicole and I forayed into Austin with fearsome one-man-band and fellow WordPress blogger John Schooley to dig in the local crates, I expressed enthusiasm about finding a particular vinyl copy of one of Joe’s early albums. Without missing a beat, John responded, “You can find it in any dumpster in Austin.” Ouch. Well, along with the B-52’s and maybe Quintron and Miss Pussycat, the Crowns were among the last of the great, great, great rock and roll party bands (just for example, their catalog of prime big-beat hedonism is a lot deeper than the Fleshtones–and they recorded with Michael Jackson!), they are eternally honored in my heart, and–NOPE, didn’t find what I was looking for in a dumpster OR at End of An Ear OR Antone’s (though I did find an autographed copy of their killer Hannibal label record at the latter, but then lapsed into a Lockhart BBQ hangover and forgot to grab it, buying instead a Johnny Bush-Willie Nelson duet album I already owned). Resist this:

Ornette Coleman Quartet: “Ramblin'”

Goodbye, RIP, Charlie. He, one of jazz’s greatest bassists, was from Missouri and Iowa, Ornette from Fort Worth. As a tribute to his life that just ended, listen carefully to these euphonious musical radicals play the honkin’ Texas blues as freely as the sky spreads, and listen to the late Mr. Haden insert a little Elmore James into the mix.

Rosie Flores: “Cryin’ Over You”

While in Austin, we also visited the teen-incey Ginny’s Little (I Mean Really Little) Longhorn Saloon, where we saw an old musical friend holding forth on The Fourth: Ms. Flores. As we entered, she was kind of slogging through a version of Dave Alvin’s “Fourth of July,” then she took a break. After we (and she, quite likely) tipped a few cold bottles of Lone Star, she returned to the stage invigorated. Just a tiny thing, with reading glasses on and a music stand in front of her, cute as a goddam bug, she ripped into this old song of hers, and raised even the jaundiced eyebrows of our host with a sizzling solo. As soon as I got home to Columbia (a week and a day later), I had her first record on the turntable. If you’re in Austin on a Friday night and she’s got the bill, proceed post haste to the above locale. The crowd will be there for a decent reason, the beer is cold and cheap, and you can dance to her! In the meantime, dig this corny but sweet official video for the above.

The Sir Douglas Quintet: “Texas Me”

For us at least, no trip to Texas could be complete without a goodly helping of the music of Doug Sahm’s deceptively talented fake-Brit-Invasion group. Sahm (the ur-Willie), abetted by his fellow South Texans and Tejanos, could do damn near anything classified as American music, such as here–blithely and cooly melding loud fiddle, horns, piano triplets, and soul singing. If you ain’t already, GET FAMILIAR with the ways of Sahm.

Four Sounds I Really Like

Roky Erickson’s rock and roll cry:

For all Roky has been through–undiagnosed mental issues, hallucinogens, Texas cops, unjust incarceration, whacky custodial care, unhealthy fan worship, self-rigged residential clamor, the sheer ravages of time and The Road (which he is still rollin’ down)–his voice has proven extremely durable. Even in full-throated rave, as in the above, close listeners can hear not only a fetching Texas curve or two but also a vulnerability that, when he’s doing a ballad, makes him seem like he’s channeling Buddy Holly.

Johnny Hodges’ seductive, fluid alto sax:

As one writer whose name I cannot recall once wrote (I am paraphrasing), his sound is like honey pouring out of a jar. Note: I wanted to find a clip of his intro on Ellington’s early-’40s version with Ivie Anderson on vocals, which is almost unbearably erotic, but no luck. The Jeep could jump, but he could really ease back and beckon.

Natural Child’s unselfconscious, appealingly homely…groove:

I just started this blog three-four days ago and I have already mentioned this happy-go-lucky band of Nashvillians three times (plus posted an old article about them in the archive), but, dammit, they have their hooks in me. Whether they’re rockin’, bluesin’, hoein’ down, shufflin’, they lock in like The Rolling Stones’ little brothers, and they can catch up short with their acumen. I was hooked from the first note I heard and saw ’em play in 2010 at The Scion Garage Rock Festival, and I think this was the song. The bass is weirdly in the lead, and they love to yell-along. Perfectly unfashionable.

Anita O’Day–in flight!

Easily one of the most–if not THE most–underrated jazz singers ever, at her absolute peak. She looks smashing (and by her own admission in HIGH TIMES, HARD TIMES she was smashed), the band swings, the crowd projects the best (and quirkiest) aspects of the coming New Frontier, but Ms. O’Day steals the show. The lightness and fetching quality of her timbre (sorry for the fancy word), her absolute mastery of rhythm, her humor and sexiness, her DEFTNESS–OK, I’ll stop, just play it over a few times, OK?