Tag: Tomeka Reid

April 2024: Music I Lived to Listen To

I will again try to comment meaningfully on each of the following alphabetically-ordered new release in single complete sentences. Two introductory notes, though:

  1. Later this year, Phil Freeman’s Cecil Taylor biography In the Brewing Luminous will be published. I’m reading a review copy, and I’m here to tell you it’s outstanding. First of all, this book was badly needed, given Taylor’s singular genius and influence; second of all, in well-documented form it gathers much info that’s out there in one place; third, it’s so comprehensive it’s alerted this passionate fan to recordings he’s never heard of; fourth–no surprise with Mr. Freeman–it advances some critical arguments very convincingly; and fifth, in a continuance from Freeman’s stellar electric Miles investigation, Running the Voodoo Down, the author excels–really excels–at describing a furious, sometimes byzantine music in very distinctive and accurate detail. That’s a trick I really envy; if I could do a fifth as good a job as Freeman, I’d be writing about jazz much more frequently. Check out Phil’s chock-full Burning Ambulance Substack to learn more.
  2. I’m not that much a fan of Light in the Attic’s new Lou Reed tribute The Power of the Heart–at all–but that damn Bobby Rush will be ninety-one in November, and if Sally truly can’t dance, he sure as hell can. He elides a few phrases in Reed’s lyric I bet he wasn’t wholly comfortable with, but he, as per usual for many, many years, sells the song. Hear it in the Spotify Playlist linked at the bottom!

April Top 15 New Platters:

Byron Asher’s Skrontch Music: Lord, when you send the rain (Sinking City)–Like Asher’s previous Skrontch Music album, the problems of New Orleans’ (and other places’) present send him backwards into the future, with spoken clips, traditional instrumentation, and post-modern feints and juxtapositions helping us get why.

Bruno Berle: No Reino Dos Afetos 2 (Psychic Hotline)–The Bandcamp description of this soothing singer’s project (the first volume is excellent, too) informs us that lo-fi, dub step, and other ingredients are utilized to help Berle break away from the Brazilian expected–but I also note that it notes the album’s “sun-soaked” and “sun-drenched” affect, so maybe that’s just historical gravity, not at all a bad thing.

Beyonce: Cowboy Carter (Parkwood Entertainment)–OK, so it’s not all that country (please dig out featured vet Linda Martell’s Color Me Country if you want that)–it’s just a really good Beyonce album, but, with much less pre-release hype and in-release bombast, I’d argue Mickey Guyton made a stronger statement with Remember Her Name in ’21 without riding a horse or wearing a cowboy hat (plus she turned whiskey into wine).

Buck 65, doseone, Jel: North American Adonis (Handsmade)–Rap earworm line of the year from this on-a-serious-verbal-roll Canadian MC is that he bets his CDs are gonna be “alive in a landfill”–that’s thinking ahead.

Cedric Burnside: Hill Country Love (Mascot / Provogue)–The North Mississippi Hill Country blues practitioners are getting whittled down something considerable, R. L.’s grandson’s has gamely tried keep the style alive with some gently modern tweaks, and he finally nails it here.

James Carter: UN (J.M.I. Recordings)–J.M.I.’s cutting analog jazz vinyl, and, while I have not heard them all (David Murray’s 2023 offerings, solo and with Plumb, were impressive), this is tops for them so far, causing one to wonder why it’s taken JC this long to wax an unaccompanied set…though I’m still waiting for his Earl Bostic tribute album.

Big Freedia & The Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra: Live at the Orpheum Theater (Queen Diva)–A bounce orchestra’s taking it too far, you might think, but you SHOULD already know not to sell the Queen Diva short.

Miha Gantar: New York City (Clean Feed)–When I received a digital review copy of this 5-disc collection of new compositions and improvisations by the 26-year-old Slovenian pianist, I rolled my eyes but, as I have sworn to do with these “gifts,” gave it a shot–then found myself so mesmerized not only by the variable moods and configurations (strings, solo, drums only, collab with sax sensation Zoh Amba, etc.), but also by the distinctiveness of the six-count-’em-six pieces that I listened to the whole thing straight through and determined that it’s my favorite jazz release of the year.

Matt Lavelle and the 12 Houses: The Crop Circles Suite, Part 1 (Mahakala Music)–NYC clarinetist, trumpeter, composer and conductor Lavelle, long a very underrated player on the jazz scene, released this, (it looks like the first half of) his “life’s work,” on his 54th birthday: easily one of the genre’s most ambitious, successful and inspiring records of the young year.

Meshell Ndegeocello (and Friends): Red Hot & Ra – The Magic City (Red Hot Org)–You know you cannot resist the pull of the perennially underrated Ndegeocelleo, assisted by jazz compatriots Immanuel Wilkins and Darius Jones, putting a fresh spin on The Sun One–which the Red Hot Org label seems recently dedicated to doing, with a Kronos Quartet set in the offing.

Tomeka Reid Quartet: 3 + 3 (Cuneiform)–More and more predictably, when you put Reid and guitarist Mary Halvorson in the same room, sparks will fly along with those fingers, and aural magic will be the result, as it is here.

Ann Savoy: Another Heart (Smithsonian Folkways)–Surprise of the month: a passionate combo of covers (Springsteen, Sandy Denny, Kinks!) and originals sung and played by acclaimed Cajun historian and member of one of the style’s most acclaimed and hardest working families, a Top-Tenner to my ears (and…heart).

Reyna Tropical: Reyna Tropical (Psychic Hotline)–I swear I’ve run into one of these albums every month for a couple of years: a moody, sexy, lithely swinging, electronic trance-r&b–maybe in this case, yeah, trance–tropical–album that I can’t quit playing and beats monkey gland shots or whatever, which means I might need to dive into the artist’s considerable (for her age) back catalog.

Fay Victor: Life is Funny That Way—Herbie Nichols Sung (TAO Forms)–I’ll admit that, while an earlier 2024 group from Brazil did successfully sing Bill Evans, I thought star-crossed jazz pianist Nichols’ quirky compositions were too high a hurdle, but then I didn’t know diddley about Victor, whose scatting isn’t just experimental but vies with Carter, McRae, Ross, and Vaughan (stylistically, not really Ella, though) at their most daring; the band makes it over the bar as clearly.

Bob Vylan: Humble as the Sun (Ghost Theater)–A youngster for our times, though, compared to his last two records, this one seems almost autumnal, as if the pure revolutionary fire he regularly lights has prematurely aged him–but these times can do that, too.

April Top 10 Old Platters [Post-Record Store Day CD Meteor Shower (for me, every day is RSD)].

Alice Coltrane: The 1971 Carnegie Hall Concert (Impulse!)–The latest entry in the Alice Coltrane revival is the rowdiest and maybe the best, thanks to horns shaking things up.

Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru: Souvenirs (Mississippi Records)–As they do a Professor Longhair platter, all homes that dig music need a record by the recently-departed, ghost-fingered Ethiopian pianist and nun, but this is her first recording with vocals, which I wasn’t completely certain hadn’t slowed down her already sauntering roll–but, upon two more listens, I was wrong again.

Grupo Irakere: Teatro Amadeo Roldan Recital (Mr. Bongo)–Cuban bands come no hotter than this one, and this is their long-unavailable debut recording (and it’s not just hot).

Rail Band: Rail Band (Mississippi Records)–Another debut recording by a legendary band, this one from Mali, this one too long-unavailable, and featuring not one but two legendary vocalists:  Salif Keita and Mory Kanté.

Sonny Rollins: Freedom Weaver–The 1959 European Tour Recordings (Resonance)–My good pal Chris Gray, referring to this album, wondered who could complain about “live Rollins ’59,” and. while I whole-heartedly agree, especially since Sonny’s working in a trio format, Sonny would soon hit the bridge to…woodshed; I promise you that if you’re ever this good at what you do that you think you’re not good enough, you might just need lysergic therapy. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD.)

Sun Ra: At the Showcase Live in Chicago 1976-1977 (Elemental Music)–Ra in Chicago, always a spot for top-of-the-line spaceworks, with the band orbiting. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD.)

Art Tatum: Jewels In the Treasure Box (Resonance)–Mainly, you need to know this Tatum is in trio mode, which naturally cuts into his usual carnival of pianistics but also allows guitarist Everett Barksdale and legendary bassist Slam Stewart to show their scintillating stuff. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD.)

Various Artists: Congo Funk! Sound Madness From The Shores Of The Mighty Congo River (Analog Africa)–Key words: “Congo,” “Funk!” (exclamation point earned), “Sound Madness,” “Mighty”–and “Analog Africa; in other words, “Merde, putain, lâche-toi le cul et jam !” (Et j’adore de la confiture!)

Various Artists: New York City Hardcore: The Way It Is (Revelation Records)–I had not heard of any of these bands, but all the vocalists sound in some way like my best friend, former ranter, opera buff, free jazz buff, French-Canadian advocate, European football nut, and scientist Mark Pelletier, so it’s a win.

Mal Waldron & Steve Lacy: The Mighty Warriors Live in Antwerp (Elemental Music)–Both these now-underrated instrumentalists started out trad, in a way–pianist Waldron accompanying twilight-era Billie Holiday, soprano saxophonist Lacy playing New Orleans jazz–but ended up taking things just out enough to be trenchantly in, and they were master players, especially live, and here they are backed by two more flexible and pretty legendary rhythm controllers you heard about last week: bassist Reggie Workman and drummer Andrew Cyrille. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD–and it might be the pick of the litter.)

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST:

LABELS TO WATCH: Psychic Hotline (Durham, North Carolina), Sinking City (always—New Orleans), Mahakala Music (Little Rock, Arkansas)

What’s The Matter with Me?

I don’t have much to say. We’ve been buffeted by snow here in Misery, USA, so I’m definitely not sitting on a bank of sand, watching the river flow. I’m squirreled away down in my computer bunker, keeping cats from between me and the monitor, scrolling through my iTunes/Apple Music adds for 2020 and realizing I can’t even make a Top Five list of new records I have truly enjoyed–and I have listened to around 10. I’m also troubled by the fact that, while I was able to listen to more great new music than ever last year and effectively track my listening with the hopes of aiding readers, the sheer time, attention, and effort required–and, folks, I barely write, I’m just listing (slightly to the left–this danged labyrinthitis, I tell ya)–was at times reminiscent of twelve months on a fuel-injected gerbil wheel. Was it worth it, especially, as I said to a friend recently, that I don’t think I took (had?) the time to listen a Velvet Underground album in 2019? I’m not sure. Complain, complain. Perseverate, perseverate. That’s about all I ever write here.

So I’ll just substitute some music-related observations from January, some clearly related to future lists, if I ever make them:

1) Blossom Dearie. I resisted her for awhile because of that name and that voice. But didja know it’s her real name? And the voice–at first too little-girly, then gradually taking on nuance, humor, and weirdness–grows on one. I bought one of them Real Gone Music “Six Albums By” sets of Blossom (her first six albums for Norman Granz, which all happen to be pretty stellar end-to-end) and probably played it more than anything else last month. She was a great pianist, and she knew a great song.

2) Fania All-Stars. Hadn’t listened to ’em in a bit, then the above video sent me on a wild Discogs ride through their first-decade catalog. Talk about shit-hot.

3) Chrysalis’ Dance Craze VHS. In the Fishbone chapter of John Doe’s second LA punk oral history, More Fun in the New World, ’tis revealed how influential the above documentary was on the scene. Hell, I was wild, loose, and youfull in those days–why’d I not seen it? My quest to obtain it ended in two eBay disasters: the former seller cagily advertised it so a smarter consumer than I would have known it was a dub, which it was, and a BAD one, and an expensive one at that; since I had not been embarrassed enough for my liking and I still wanted it badly (“The end of all wanting / Is all I’ve been wanting”–yep, Mr. Berman), the latter one I ordered, legit, in great condition, and cheaper, only to find it was PAL-formatted and wouldn’t play on my VCR (yes, just a reminder that these are VHSes I’m talkin’ ’bout!). I was like, “Dude, you did not mention that in the listing; Dude was like, “Did you look at the photo of the VHS cover?” FOCK! Anyone need a PAL Dance Craze VHS for cheap? By God, I will HAVE it some day.

4) Drive-By Truckers and Kesha and Aroma Coffee Shop. Retirees like me have a tendency to drift to coffee shops and post up. I’ve never done this, but a new cafe opened up near my domicile that’s inviting and promising, so last Friday, I thought I might as well do as fellow geezers do and find a corner. Another motivator was some new records were just waiting for me to listen to: the DBTs’ The Unraveling and Kesha’s High Road. There was a time when anyone who knew me could easily predict my takes–accent on was, because I don’t truck with foolish consistency. From the looks of things, I am among the few to hear The Unraveling as sodden, merely topical, enervating, and possibly ominous in terms of the band’s future (what’s up with Cooley’s two–and not that great-songs?). I, too, believe that we have serious fucking problems in this country, but records like this one don’t help me. SPARK, man! SPARK! On the other hand, Kesha, an artist I’ve learned a lot about from teaching young students at a women’s college, has created something liberating, jubilant, triumphant–even if in some ways it’s a return to an earlier persona–in High Road that made my morning without my having to take deliberate action to escape the daily shitstorm. I am sure I am the only one comparing these two acts in this way, but in pop music it be’s that way sometimes. I go way back with the Truckers, as a fan, but also on a personal level, as they once played the high school I taught at for free and kicked almighty ass, but I cannot tell a lie.

Justine

5) That de Sade album. Speaking of the end of all wanting, long ago I’d cast a line out for the above on Discogs Lake and just waited for the bobber to dance. Finally, and for a pittance, I got the chance to yank, and it sits waiting to be spun, smelling just a mite moldy. I am no Sadist, but such an item is difficult to resist and especially in these times, metaphorically at the very least; however, do I listen alone or in company, and if in company, with whom? I’m stuck in a state of suspended animation, so maybe I’ll stall a little longer and digitize it. Love that label name!

6) THE GOATS. Someone asked me recently if I ever had the chance to write a 33 1/3rd book (basically, I do have the chance, just not the drive), about what album would I write mine. I reeled off several but knew I was forgetting one. The arrival in 2019 (I initally missed it, thus didn’t list it) of a freakin’ raucous live album of a ’93 performance by ultra-underrated Philly crew The Goats, which I just learned about the other day, reminded me that I’d first try to write about their durable and still-relevant Tricks of the Shade. Our flag is not a peace sign, indeed.

7) If you’re ever in Springfield, Illinois. Definitely hit Cozy Dog, the Frank Lloyd Wright house, and Lincoln’s tomb (supposedly the man once said, “You’d have to shoot me to get me to go back to Springfield!”), but there’s a record store on Adams Street that can swallow you up: Recycled Records. Besides music, they have stereo equipment, memorabilia, VHSes galore (I didn’t look for Dance Craze, alas), even porno mags. I skipped that stuff and snagged two sealed Willie John comps on Ace for $6 a piece and a great three-disc Abbey Lincoln career overview I didn’t know existed for $17 (and with Gary Giddins liner notes). If you ask for help, you will get it–and more.

8) Tomeka Reid. I think Reid is my favorite musician-I-hadn’t-heard-about-til-recently. I’d actually heard her inimitable jazz cello on records I owned by others, but–two things about her two solo releases, the 2019 Old and New and 2016’s Tomeka Reid Quartet (now impossible to find in physical form): her playing and composing are rich, expressive, and surprising–she stretches the cello’s usual jazz role fascinatingly–and they also spur quartet member and guitar genius Mary Halvorson to some of her best playing ever. That’s saying something.

9) Natural Child. I stumbled upon this Nashville group in Lawrence, Kansas, in 2010, at an amazing and free garage-rock festival sponsored by Scion. We arrived on Massachusetts Street, found a parking spot, which just happened to be in front of The Granada, one of the festival’s four venues, and wandered in to see whoever happened to be there. The group immediately charmed and rocked us with their extremely casual stage manner and their delightfully fucked-up songs–a nicer, funnier Royal Trux, maybe. I bought up all their 45s—that was it for their output at the time–and they held up in the absence of the band charming, rocking, and delighting us in person. We saw them several times in several places, and they were always worth it. As their sound starting to lean toward country–much harder stuff to pull off than tire-kickers think–they lost their je ne sais quois, and though our enthusiasm for their output dimmed, we still saw ’em when they were close. A member of the band brought some trouble upon himself and them in an incident I only know about third-hand and thus will not report, and retired themselves from the action to work on things, a wise choice. Suffice it all to say, the band is back after several years with a new record, I’m happy to see it, and I hope (and trust) that they’ve put in work on more than just the music. I am rooting for them.

10) International Anthem. IA’s the first label in a long time–maybe ever–that’s seriously tempted me to just buy its entire output sans investigation. Their most recent release, Jeff Parker’s Suite for Max Brown, would be my record of the year in 2020 if I were able to muster a list, and Irreversible Entanglement’s upcoming Who Sent You?, based on early indications, may be challenging it. All of their releases are fired by skilled, passionate players, and the label’s accent on liberation and commitment to warm, present production standards make for a unity of sound and vision reminiscent of legendary labels I surely need not name for you. I’m heading to Chicago soon, and if they have a physical home, I may well visit and bow.