Showing posts with label George Winston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George Winston. Show all posts

Sunday, November 4, 2012

What's New?: 11.4.2012

Still playing that friendly game of catch up. . .
Jethro Tull — Heavy Horses (1978)

Hey, you know what?  This one ain't bad at all!  It's a bit overproduced and bloated, but the songs have a nice, folky base to them.  The Celtic textures on something like 'Acres Wild' is just a completely unforeseen touch that works fantastically.  There are a few somewhat dull "rockers" on the album, as if the band could not decide what direction they actually wanted to go in here (mainly looking at you, 'No Lullaby').  But, on the whole, strong moments are the standard here.  'Moths' is quite possibly the catchiest Jethro Tull song I've yet heard, while the two album closers —'Weathercock' and the title track— point the band straight back to the thoughtfully movement-shifting and calmly rocking out territory of their earlier work.  I, too, was skeptical of such a later album, but it's surprisingly listenable, on the condition that you already know you like the band.

Jethro Tull — Songs from the Wood (1977)

The year previous, the band released this album that hints at the calmer direction of Heavy Horses, but where Heavy Horses was a bit overproduced and bloated, this album is way past that. The gratuitous keyboards and ridiculous arrangement shifts on the album opening title track sound more at home on a crappy jazz fusion record of the time. Thank you, but no.  Some cool moments of weird folky textures scattered throughout, but it really feels like the band can't stay focused at all here.  And, for a band that kind of built its name on being unpredictable, it just seems like they're being shifting and changing mid-song just for the sake of doing it.  Enh, it's not all bad.  'Velvet Green' is kinda sorta really good.  It just feels like all of tempos on this album are too fast.  They got it right next go 'round.  So, this album stands as a kind of transitional work.  Really only for dork-minded idiots like me.

Jethro Tull — Benefit (1970)

Alright!  Now this is a classic-sounding Tull!  This is the album right before Aqualung and it's just a really nice, thoughtful, melodic work in the same vein.  It's arguably even more tuneful.  'Nothing to Say', just right away, strikes me as one of those great "lost classic" songs of the classic rock era.  Just a really noisy, resonating number.  Elsewhere, the more folky aspect of the band is present with the excellent strummers 'For Michael Collins, Jeffrey and Me' and the closer 'Sossity, You're A Woman.'  Darn good album and a great table setter for the one-two punch that was to follow.

George Winston — Autumn (1980)

It's taken me a while to really get into George Winston's albums so far, but sometimes when they hit, they hit hard.  It's definitely mood music, in that respect.  Meaning: I have to be in the right mood to really get what the player was going for.  With my recent trip and thinking back on my youth, I relisten to this album now and it sounds awesome.  The opening tune, 'Colors/Dance', moves through its two or three themes in a really convincing way, really sounding like late summer's cooling temperatures convincing the leaves to fall and turn orange for the winter.  Good stuff.  Although some of it does get a little too stock new agey for me.  'Longing/Love' is just. . . uhh, yeah.  Not my cup.  Most of side two ("October") of the album is pretty dissonant, perhaps surprisingly.  George doesn't spare on the big, dramatic flourishes, so it does come off as a bit overplayed.  But it's actually pretty darned affecting when you sit down with it in the right mood.  Not my favorite George Winston album, but side two is probably my favorite side of any GW album I've heard thus far.

Ferde Grofé — Grand Canyon Suite (composed 1929-1931/recorded 1958)

It's kind of going for that "big" Americana thing that Aaron Copland was into.  It's a bit more impressionist than that, but yeah.  That's the long and short of it.  It's here in its entirety for free and well worth the listen.  The more sparse passages on 'The Painted Desert' and 'Cloudburst' are just excellent.  Really not a work that requires a listener to be familiar with its muse to appreciate all the same.  Some really nice moments; a bit of the old boombast takes it down a notch though.

Billie Holiday — The Golden Years (1933-1941)

The first in Columbia's exhaustive attempts to document Billie's output with anybody associated with the label.  This is an absolutely gorgeous three disc vinyl LP box set (that was still sealed [!!!] when I rescued it, thank you very much).  So many amazing musicians, so many amazing moments.  I mean, I could go all dork on you and just go track by track, but all this stuff is available on CD many times over.  So, just go buy a Billie Holiday best of set.  Chances are, four or five of the absolutely essential performances from this collection will inevitably be on it.  What else do you want from me?  This is just excellent music, all around. 

Joe Sample, Ray Brown and Shelly Manne — The Three (1975)

"The Three." That's actually what they called themselves.  Not going to get too cynical at this juncture because Joe Sample sticks to acoustic piano the entire time.  And that's a pretty bold move for him at this date.  It was a Japanese-only release for nearly three years until the cooler than cool Inner City label finally scooped it up in 1978.  Mostly standards, it's a meeting of players that makes sense, considering their firm West coast roots, but that didn't really happen otherwise.  The mode is in that loose, slightly funky, really relaxed post-bop mood that a lot of the stuff from the Inner City label had.  Joe flat out steals from Ahmad Jamal on the opener and that's just plain old fun, while there's an excellent 'Manha de Carnaval' to kick off side two.  It's good piano trio stuff and a downright great find for Ray Brown fans.

~Austin

Sunday, July 29, 2012

What's New?: 7.29.2012

Still playing catch up. . .

Roy Acuff — Greatest Hits (1940's/1950's)

Trying to get more of a knowledge of country music as I get older.  As a kid coming to music nerd maturity in the 90's, the only thing of "old" country music I knew was Johnny Cash, because he is the perennial cool kid favorite.  Otherwise, it was all the contemporary overproduced country pop that was coming to prominence at the time.  So, when trying to get into it properly, why not go with the guy that was nicknamed "the King of Country Music"?  This fifteen track hits collection serves as a darn fine introduction.  It's pretty much a classic country sound.  Polite, acoustic twangs, occasional harmonies and some spirituals thrown in for good measure.  'Night Train to Memphis' is a good, representative number.  'Great Speckled Bird' is one of the earliest recordings included and it's a nice one, as well.  For someone whose catalogue is downright intimidating (spanning roughly six decades), this does a good job of appetizing me until I can tackle his albums properly.

George Winston — Ballads and Blues 1972 (1972)

This is Windham Hill's reissue of George Winston's first album.  The album was originally released on John Fahey's Takoma label in 1973 and was originally titled just Piano Solos.  It's kind of weird to see an album on Windham Hill with John Fahey's name in the credits (but it sure does make a heck of a lot of sense).  It also makes sense that Fahey would have been interested in what George Winston was playing, as he's basically doing what Fahey was doing on his calmer more meditative pieces, but on piano.  The opening, four part, 'Deland, Florida Medley' is easily the album's highlight.  It finds George starting off with a kind of bluesy, boogie woogie riff, which he squeezes a searching, introspective theme out of and explores for the next eight minutes.  Really pretty impressive stuff.  The rest of the album, save for two tracks ('Theme For a Futuristic Movie' and an untitled piece), relies more heavily on traditional boogie woogie and ragtime styles.  But he always finds little ways of tossing in these (seemingly) completely out of place melodic runs that are almost like listening to the history of piano playing in real time.  Really an interesting album, especially when you consider he didn't record again for eight years, and when he did, it was with a drastically different approach.

Mike Auldridge  — Dobro (1972)

Speaking of Takoma!  I had never heard of the guy, but I saw this cover and couldn't resist after I saw that it was a Takoma release.  As the title implies, Mike plays this steel-stringed guitar-like instrument.  It's got a really unique tone and he approaches it from a perspective that respects tradition, but wants to branch out.  Most of the album is bluegrass instrumentals, but there's vocal numbers on 'Rollin' Fog' (a pleasant folk rocker) and 'Take Me' (a George Jones cover) and twanged-up, bluegrass-ified versions of 'Greensleeves' and a killer 'House of the Rising Sun' at the end.  Really an entertaining album and plenty of good pickin' going on.

The Stanley Brothers — The Columbia Sessions, Volume One (late 1940's/early 1950's)

First things first: the harmonies on this thing are just downright amazing.  The whole thing is just filled with these heavenly blasts of pure sound.  Excellent.  This is another one, carefully compiled and reissued by Rounder in the late 1970's.  From what I understand, this gathers up all of the 78rpm recordings Ralph, Carter and the Clinch Mountain Boys recorded for Columbia in the years 1949 and 1950.  A pretty strong document, especially considering these are original tunes.  Songs like 'The White Dove', 'Too Late to Cry,' and 'Gathering Flowers for the Master's Bouquet' just have an undeniable warmth to them.  I've played it quite a bit since I picked it up and I just can't imagine it being anything except the start of a (hopefully) large collection.

Peter Finger — Acoustic Rock Guitar (1979)

Exactly as the title advertises, I picked this one up because it's on the mighty Kicking Mule label.  The cover is rather hilarious, but completely unrepresentative of the music.  While it is a solo acoustic guitar album, it's not like any other album I've heard by more familiar folks like John Fahey, Leo Kottke or William Ackerman.  It's more technical than anything, as Pete seems to be doing his best to play in any tuning other than standard (the tunings for each song are actually listed on the liner notes) and showing off these strange strummed chords he's presumably made up himself.  It's not just technical noodling, as there are plenty of great, thoughtful moods conjured up.  In any case, the two E strings are tuned down to D on all but one of the songs, so the textures in the tunes have a really deep bottom end.  Check out 'Hope and Memory' for an idea of what I'm getting at.  Really nice find, if I might say so.

The Carter Family — More Golden Gems from the Original Carter Family (1920's/1930's)

Just incredible music.  Warm and human, it's an illustration of American life at a time when the country was in the middle of the Great Depression.  It's interesting to point out that all of the songs of unrequited love, hard times and estranged friends and family that comprise this collection turn to religion for solace.  But, even then, the conclusion is suicide, eternal loneliness or damnation.  Pretty bleak outlook most of the time, but the songs are so good, so catchy, you'd swear that they'd just existed forever when Alvin, Sara and Maybelle recorded them.  But no, these are all original tunes.  It begins with 'Little Log Cabin By the Sea' and never lets up.  Granted, it's only ten tracks, but as a first taste album, it's done its job and then some.  I have some homework to do, it seems.

Flatt and Scruggs — The World of Flatt and Scruggs (1940's-1960's)

Really strong, two record, twenty song overview.  It's got the duo's two biggest hits with 'The Ballad of Jed Clampett' (a/k/a  the Theme from the Beverley Hillbillies) and 'The Story of Bonnie and Clyde' and those tunes are just fine, but I prefer the instrumental and lesser known stuff.  'Foggy Mountain Breakdown' is a catchy one, while 'Flint Hill Special' is so technically impressive that it's hard to believe it's a hummable tune at the same time.  There's even a version of Roy Acuff's 'Wabash Cannonball' (to bring this post full circle).  A lot of the stuff on this collection is recorded live, so these are not the original recordings.  Still darn good in any case.

~Austin

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

What's New?: 7.10.2012

John Corgliano — Symphony No. 1 (1990)

Been meaning to expand my classical palette lately, so I was on the lookout for something newer and more contemporary when I stumbled upon this (and the next one).  It's inspired by, and dedicated to, friends that had succumbed to AIDS.  With such a heavy muse, the symphony starts out in its first two movements pretty lively.  It's not until the second half on the third and fourth movements that it takes on a more expected, heavier, melancholy tone.  It's actually pretty atonal at points and reaches some pretty great moments of hopeful despair.  I had no clue what to expect going in, but I certainly didn't expect such emotional heft.  I dig it, but it's far removed from light listening.  Check out the first two movements here and here.

Walter Piston — The Incredible Flutist / 3 New England Sketches / Symphony No. 6 (1938 / 1949 / 1955)

Another one checked out simply because I had no clue what it was.  And darned if it ain't great!  I knew nothing of Walter Piston, but after some researching, 'The Incredible Flutist' seems to be his most well-known piece and I can see why.  It moves through so many different sections and styles, so quickly and so seamlessly.  The sub-section entitled 'The Tango of the Merchant's Daughters' starts out especially gorgeous.  The Symphony No. 6 (subtitled "Gettysburg") is more subdued.  Long, overstated melodies and many passages of sparse wonder linger throughout (especially on the third movement).  The whole thing's great.  But the real winner on this disc is the inclusion of the three part suite 'New England Sketches.'  Beautifully impressionist and understated, but gargantuan in its scope, I absolutely love it.  A wonderful find.

The Lines — Memory Span (late 1970's-early 1980's)

Just when you get cocky enough to think you've mined a specific style to the point that you probably only encounter third or fourth tier bands from then on out, you get a kick in the ass that you completely deserved for being so cocky in the first place.  My kick has come in the form of the Lines.  The fact that these guys recorded something as brilliant and transcending as 'Nerve Pylon' and I'm just now discovering it is clue enough that the great new wave revival of a decade ago was a cherry pick of a revival.  This is an eighteen song collection of the band's EPs, singles, their b-sides and general non-album material.  It presents a picture of a band that is clearly of its time, as it's all here: nervy art punk, 60's inspired jangle, jagged instrumentals and, ultimately, a post-disco sound that is just as poignant and revolutionary as —if not outright better than— any of their more celebrated peers.  It's an absolutely essential document of an unjustly forgotten band.  And while it is stylistically all over the place, the music it contains is so timely, so unique and so downright good that it hardly matters.  Essentially, they are like the Cure, if the Cure never got popular.  They got to sign to tiny record labels that let them do whatever the hell they wanted.  They played crappy hole in the wall clubs and knew their audience (what little of it there was).  They got to get their artsiness out in the moment, when it mattered the most.  The production sounds may date the recordings, but the songs contained here are ultimately from another time entirely.  I remarked a while back that, through my scouring of used vinyl bins and late night readings of Trouser Press, I was essentially trying to find another band that gave me similar feelings to those I get from early Cure recordings.  I think I may have actually found the Cure's artsy twin brother.  Many outtakes (free to download; all worthwhile) can be found here (click on "SOUND").

The Lines — Flood Bank (1981 / 1983)

This is actually the Lines two full length albums collected on one disc.  By the time they released their first album (Therapy, from 1981), a good three years into their existence, the band had developed a uniquely and entirely danceable take on the whole scene.  Elsewhere, atmospheric stuff that seems to anticipate the Chameleons is about, and the album is all the better for it.  When the band released their second album two years later (Ultramarine, from 1983), they were fully immersed in minor key-tinged dance textures.  Just have a listen to the album's kickoff number and relish in that dreamy cascade of slappy bass dark jangle.  Most of Ultramarine's songs clock in at five minutes or longer and have a prominent bassline that's more memorable than the main riff.  So, yeah.  Any of the so-called "post-punk revivalists" can send their checks straight to London.  (but we knew that already, didn't we?)  The one time the band incorporates lead keyboards is where this compilation takes it title from and, I swear to god, that opening ten or so seconds could be any pop song on the radio right now (except the Lines actually have a good song to follow the intro).  As a whole, Ultramarine shows more of a willingness to branch out and slow the tempo down, in favor of a much more tuneful and layered sound.  If only they had stuck around long enough to get one more album out.  But, nope.  Can't be mad at quitting while you're ahead.  And they certainly were.  There are more free downloadable extras here (again, click on "SOUNDS").  Furthermore, between these Lines reissues and the recent Trypes reissue, I am firmly of the opinion that Acute Records is not only on my side as an astute music listener, but also one of the best current record labels going.  Brilliance all around.

George Winston — Winter Into Spring (1982)

A self-described "folk pianist", it should have been obvious right away that I was in for another surprise from the early Windham Hill roster.  This thing reminds me so much of Keith Jarret's solo piano albums on ECM (outright classics, if you ask me), that I'd have a hard time not being into this, even if just a little.  The songs develop slowly, but they unfold into brilliantly melodic passages.  The opener 'January Stars' is a good indicator of the whole album.  Heavy on long, thoughtful themes and dramatic tones.  Just speaking in terms of overall sound, it's very beautiful music, in a minor key mode.  The nuances of its best parts can indeed be lost in a haze of "background music" facades, but its influence is hard to overstate.  In its "not jazz" stance (all of the songs are clearly composed and not improvised one tick), it seems right there with Brian Eno, the Durutti Column and the Cocteau Twins as music that was just enough on the outer rim of pop to be filed in the "rock" section, but it's too ethereal, too near-ambient to really fit in with any pre-established genre.  Check out the meditative album center piece 'Rain' for an indication of what I'm getting at.  Besides, Andrew Bird totally borrowed a riff from this album, so that's worthy of note for me on its own.


Cisco Houston — The Folkways Years: 1944-1961

A gargantuan, twenty-nine song retrospective from Woody Guthrie's right hand man.  While Cisco has a decidedly polite croon of a voice (especially noticeable on the duets with Woody), his songs are interpreted in a way that personifies the folk tradition perfectly.  When he sings 'I Ain't Got No Home', it's one of the most believable performances I've ever heard.  'The Cat Came Back' is the enduring classic here.  And it's just fine, but I prefer the less novelty sounding stuff.  His guitar playing is excellent throughout and the two tracks with Woody are essential.  Wondrous music.

~Austin