Monday, October 12, 2009

Book Review: Prestige Records - The Album Cover Collection


As part of the celebration of Prestige Records’ 60th Anniversary, Concord Editions has published Prestige Records - The Album Cover Collection. This coffee-table sized book features reproductions of 120 classic LP covers from the legendary jazz label’s rich history. And just to set the proper mood, there is also a nine track various artists CD included with the package.



The early EPs and 10-inch LP covers were pretty primitive, typically consisting of a picture of the headliner and a lot of type, listing the other players on the set. Label owner Bob Weinstock did the early design and photography, then slowly began farming these duties out to others.
Prestige hired some major names early on, including Andy Warhol (1953), and legendary MAD magazine artist Don Martin (1953). Reid Miles, who went on to become art director of Blue Note Records began his career with Prestige as well.



Oddly enough, considering the myriad of duties label head Weinstock had on his plate, he photographed some of the most iconic images associated with Prestige. His picture of the Hackensack River for Miles Davis' Miles LP is exquisite in it’s stark simplicity, as is the shot of Sonny Rollins adorning Tenor Madness.My personal favorite Prestige album cover has to be for Eric Dolphy’s 1960 LP, Out There. It was done by Richard “Prophet” Jennings, and is a great Twilight Zone type painting. Another nice later cover is for Jaki Byard’s On The Spot (1965), designed by Don Schlitten. It is possibly the first psychedelic jazz cover ever.



The last covers in the book came from records issued in 1969, by Houston Person and James Moody. The Person shot in particular reflects it’s time. It is a picture of him blowing the sax dressed not in the traditional suit and tie, but in some vaguely African attire.



The nine track CD included with the book contains some great jazz. Many of Prestige’s finest artists are represented on it, including Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane, Mose Allison, and Eric Dolphy. A treat for me on the disc is the inclusion of Moondog's “Organ Rounds,” one of the label’s lesser known artists, and one of their finest.



Prestige Records was sold to Fantasy in 1971, which effectively ended it’s operation as an independent. But their legacy lives on, and The Album Cover Collection is a nice way to celebrate their 60th anniversary.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Music Review: Scott Lafaro - Pieces Of Jade


Bassist Scott Lafaro was already a legend at the tender age of 25, when he lost his life in an auto accident. His proficiency with the instrument had already led to high profile gigs with the likes of Chet Baker, Ornette Coleman, and Bill Evans. As the years progressed, Lafaro’s style has been singled out by many key innovators, including Stanley Clarke and Jaco Pastorious.

Resonance Records have recently unearthed some previously unreleased Scott Lafaro material from 1960-61. The eight tracks which comprise Pieces Of Jade are definitely a mixed bag.

The first five of these cuts were recorded in 1961 in a trio format that featured Lafaro (bass), Don Friedman (piano) and Pete LaRoca (drums). The group opens the disc with the standard “I Hear A Rhapsody.” As is the case throughout these tracks, the piano takes the lead, and Scott takes a nice solo at the midpoint of the song.

There are two versions of Don Friedman’s “Sacre Bleu” included. Both run a little over six minutes. The first version is played at a bit of a quicker tempo, and features a superior solo from Lafaro. Version two is a little more relaxed, but the drum and piano solos a bit sharper than on one. Nice to have both to choose from.

“Green Dolphin St.” is sandwiched between the two versions of “Sacre Bleu” as sort of aural palate-cleanser . The trio’s version of this evergreen is a moment for Friedman to really shine. Lafaro takes about a one minute bass solo, and LaRoca pretty much hangs back just keeping a steady beat.

The fifth of these sessions is Dizzy Gillespie’s “Woody’n You.” It is Lafaro’s turn to just play sideman here, while LaRoca gets to shine. He really lets it rip during his drum solo. All five of these cuts are excellent, and represent possibly the final unreleased material from 1961, the last year of Scott Lafaro’s life.

In 1960, Lafaro played on Ornette Coleman’s landmark Free Jazz album. But it was the posthumous release of Sunday At The Village Vanguard, recorded just ten days prior to his death, that Scott is best known for.

The trio of Bill Evans (piano), Paul Motian (drums) and Lafaro managed to attain an extraordinary amount of empathy in their music that night. Sunday At The Village Vanguard, along with Miles Davis’ Kind Of Blue is for many people not only the summit of Evans’ career, but also one of the greatest recordings in jazz history.

So it was with no little anticipation that I looked forward to hearing the 22 minute rehearsal tape from 1960 on Pieces Of Jade. It features Lafaro and Evans going over “My Foolish Heart,” which was performed at the Vanguard.

While it is of undeniable historical value, the tape was obviously never stored properly and is pretty garbled. With Lafaro’s bass occupying the low end of the spectrum, his sound is tolerable. But it is painful to listen to the piano of Bill Evans. It sounds totally off-key due to the tape deterioration.
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Following this is a 13 minute interview with Evans from 1966, in which he discusses Lafaro, and the music they made together in depth.

Pieces Of Jade ends with a piece titled “Memories For Scotty.” This is a solo piano composition by Don Friedman, which was recorded in 1985. It is a nice elegy to a man who was taken much too early.

Taken as a whole, Pieces Of Jade is a fine tribute to the brief life of a musician who affected a great many lives. Scott Lafaro’s legacy deserves nothing less.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Book Review: The Magical Chorus - A History Of Russian Culture From Tolstoy To Solzhenitsyn by Solomon Volkov


For those of us who grew up in the West, it is nearly impossible to fathom how difficult life was in 20th century Russia. We know of the events: WWI; The October Revolution; Stalin’s Purges; WWII; The Iron Curtain, and so on. But can any of us really understand what it was like to live under such conditions?

With The Magical Chorus - A History Of Russian Culture From Tolstoy To Solzhenitsyn, author Solomon Volkov has found a unique way of illuminating these years.

Volkov opens his tale with the passing of Leo Tolstoy. The legendary author’s 1910 funeral turned in to what Volkov describes as “a media circus.” The death of the literary lion left a spiritual void in the cultural leadership of the nation. Many would attempt to fill the vacuum over the next eighty years or so, but it would take the return of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn from exile in the US to complete the cycle.

Volkov vividly illuminates the schizophrenic nature of the relationship between the Soviet government and the artistic community. It was generally a marriage of convenience, which often turned tragic when the honeymoon ended.

Take Stalin’s brief affiliation with the avant-garde. These writers and artists were quite useful when Uncle Joe needed support from the left to shore up his power. A few years later, most of them had either been executed or were toiling in Siberian labor camps.

For a number of reasons though, Stalin developed a deep bond with writer Maxim Gorky, one which was maintained through the end of Gorky’s life. Another unusual relationship Stalin nurtured was with filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein, with whom he pressed into service making propaganda films.

After Stalin’s death in 1953, Nikita Khrushchev became First Secretary of the Soviet Union. He stepped into a position of de facto dictatorship, which had been held for the previous 30 years by the ruthlessly efficient Joseph Stalin. His insecurities led the world to the brink of nuclear Armageddon, yet his biggest battle seemed to be in stopping the importation of banned literature, music, film, and art from exiled artists.

His successors, Leonid Brezhnev and Mikhail Gorbachev would continue this ultimately futile effort. Volkov makes an effective argument that the culture is what finally doomed the Soviet Union. As the populace slowly but surely absorbed the images of life in the West, their own circumstances became less and less tolerable, until that fateful day in 1991 when it all came crashing down.

Through the course of The Magical Chorus, Volkov introduces us to countless figures, some well-known, others less so to American and European audiences, but all of whom had a significant impact in the USSR.

The biggest of these was exiled author Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. His Gulag Archipelago, a first-hand account of the labor camps, is possibly the most momentous Russian book of the past 100 years. It was originally published in 1974 in the United States, and there is no telling how many illegal copies were smuggled into Russia over the years.

In 1989, at the height of perestroika, the book was finally published in the Soviet Union. It was a sensation, selling nearly three million copies that year, with hundreds of thousands more to follow.

Solzhenitsyn was poised to carry the voice of what Tolstoy called “the peasant class” into the 21st century. But in many ways, with the collapse of Communism, the role of the intelligenstia had become a moot point. Mother Russia had joined the global village. With the advent of satellite TV and the internet, the populace were poised to become as narcissistic as the rest of us.

For such a potentially dense subject, The Magical Chorus flows along surprisingly well. It also opens up the world of 20th century Russian culture in a very accessible manner, while presenting a provocative theory for the real reasons Communism eventually failed.

Music Review: Thomas Zehetmair Niccolo Paganini - 24 Capricci


Niccolo Paganini (1782-1840) was called “The Devil’s Son,” and “The Witches’ Brat,” with regards to his “supernatural” abilities as a violinist. The “Satanic” accusation is one that never seems to lose it’s luster in explaining the extraordinary talents of some musicians. In the Twentieth Century, both Robert Johnson and Jimmy Page were said to have sold their souls as well.

Paganini set the template for what we would recognize today as the decadent rockstar lifestyle. In his time, he was as famous for his womanizing and gambling skills as he was for his playing. Complications from syphilis and a host of other health problems acquired along the way took him prematurely. But he left behind an astounding body of work.

I mention the travails of Paganini’s life not to sensationalize it, but to provide context. The man who many claim was the greatest violinist who ever lived continues to exert a powerful impact on classical music. His contributions to the form were truly revolutionary. Witness the variations on his “A Minor (No. 24),” by such masters as Lizst, Brahms, and Rachmaninoff, to name but three.

That caprice (piece of music) is taken from his most famous work, 24 Capricci For Solo Violin, published in 1820. Mastering the Caprices has long served as the equivalent of a PHD for violinists. They are among the most challenging pieces ever written.

Although the majority of the Capricci fall into the moderate tempo (moderato), Paganini seemingly filled every bar with as many notes as possible. Frank Zappa composed some similar pieces for guitar, and titled them with variations on “The Black Page.” This was because the sheet music contained so much ink as to render it’s appearance nearly pure black.

Possibly the trickiest of the 24 is “B-Flat Major (No. 13).” Nicknamed “The Devil’s Laughter,” this is a stunningly complicated work, and a great example of why people were in such awe of Paganini’s talent.

“A Minor (No. 5)” is notable not only for it’s complexity, but for the influence it has exerted on heavy metal guitarists. Yngwie Malmsteen based his entire career on this sound, while Steve Vai used “No. 5” as the text for his guitar solo (as Satan) in the film Crossroads.

With the recent 24 Capricci, world-renowned violinist Thomas Zehetmair interprets them for a present day audience. While Zehetmair does not stray from the original compositions, his background in New Music does add nuance to his readings.

Zehetmair first recorded the Capricci some 15 years ago, on a now deleted Teldec disc. Revisiting them today, his playing has taken on more personal inflections than on the previous set. This undoubtedly reflects his familiarity with the material, as well as his own continued growth as a musician.

As Zehetmair himself mentions in the liner text: “You can only capture ten percent of any piece on paper in musical notation. There are in fact thousands of different ways of playing any single written note.”

Listening to all 24 Capricci in one sitting is an almost overwhelming experience. It is not very surprising at all that this music frightened some of Paganini’s contemporary audiences. They remain shockingly complex. While the Capricci have been recorded by countless artists over the years, I highly recommend this ECM New Music set both to the neophyte, and the experienced listener.

Thomas Zehetmair is an extraordinary talent, and listening to his 24 Capricci is a powerfully rewarding experience. Let’s just hope nobody starts any rumors about his own “deal with the devil.”

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Music Review: Beastie Boys - Hello Nasty Remastered


How ironic is it that these smart-ass punks are still around, 25 years since their first appearance? The Beastie Boys have been a conceptual band since their very first 12-inch single, “Cookie Puss,” in 1984. The genius of the group has always been their ability to combine so many disparate elements into the whole.

Licensed To Ill featured their patented snot-nosed, white-boy attitude coupled with killer hip-hop beats, while adding the classic album rock of Led Zeppelin and AC/DC into the mix. The follow-up, Paul’s Boutique went even further. By putting their psychedelic vision of side two of Abbey Road in place of Rick Rubin’s classic rock samples, they came up with their acknowledged masterpiece.

The Beastie’s then went back to their punk rock roots with the well received Ill Communication and Check Your Head. Fine records to be sure. For me though, 1998’s Hello Nasty is the one.

Like the earlier Paul’s Boutique, Hello Nasty is ambitious. There are tributes to the golden age of Tommy Boy Records, Grandmaster Flash, De La Soul, and Martin Denny, just to name a few.

The early-Eighties “electro-funk” sound of Africa Bambaata and The Jonzun Crew was the sound of hip hop when the Beasties started out. “Intergalactic” pays specific tribute to this sound, and is fantastic.

The scratching styles of Djs such as Grandmaster Flash, and Whiz Kid have always been a part of Mixmaster D’s sound. They make this explicit with “Three Mcs And One DJ.” His abilities are pretty impressive throughout, especially on “Super Disco Breakin,” and “Body Movin.”

While “Picture This” may sound like a nod to the then emerging lounge trend, there is a history. Beginning with elements of Paul’s Boutique way back in 1989, the Beasties have been using this type of music in varying degrees.

The recent release of Hello Nasty Remastered gives it the deluxe treatment. The set features 43 remastered songs on two discs. The five-panel foldout package it comes in is pretty nice too. The original album comprises disc one, while disc two features 21 tracks of outtakes, remixes, odd vocal snippets, and general weirdness. It is for the completist to be sure, but for the most part, the extras are worth hearing.

The remixed versions of the original Hello Nasty tracks are probably the most significant aspects. Fatboy Slim’s remix of “Body Movin” is vintage 1998, while Kut Master Kurt’s version punches up the drums in no uncertain terms.

“Intergalactic” is such a great song it would be nearly impossible to mess up. The Colleone & Webb remix is pretty standard, bringing up the drums and vocals, to fine effect.

The “dub” version of “Dr. Lee, PHD” is pretty funny. How do you dub out the most dubbed out cat ever, Lee “Scratch” Perry? With a lot of ganja apparently, because the second disc’s dub version does manage to do it. This one will appeal to fans of The Clash’s Black Market Clash, like myself.

Of the rest, there are more remixes, basic instrumental tracks, and studio banter to choose from. One of the joys of going “deluxe” is seeing if this type of ephemera really makes it for you.

In the pre-Millennial world of 1998, Hello Nasty spoke to the optimism many felt about what the new century would bring:

“Getting’ on down to the year 2000, a slight distraction can get you paid…”

Besides being a great Beastie Boys record, Hello Nasty now exists as a reminder of what many of us felt was possible way back in 1998. Some may be feeling that way again. Who knows, the Beasties may have been further ahead of their time than we knew.

What makes Hello Nasty so special for me is the way they were able to look back with respect, while looking forward to the future. It is a trait that should never go out of style.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Music Review: Harmonia '76 - Tracks And Traces Re-Released


"Krautrock" was a term coined by British journalists to describe German progressive rock, and was always meant in the most pejorative manner. Thanks in large part to Julian Cope’s (sadly out of print) book Krautrocksamper, the phrase is now a badge of honor.

Harmonia were something of a Krautrock super-group. Michael Rother of Neu! joined with Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Dieter Moebius of Cluster in 1973 to create the band.

Brian Eno was a big fan from the beginning, even appearing onstage with them in 1974. In 1976, he joined Harmonia in the studio, where they recorded the 12 songs that make up Tracks And Traces Re-Released.

For 20 years, these recordings had lain dormant, thought to be lost to the ages. When the tapes were discovered in the mid ‘90’s, they represented something akin to a Krautrock Holy Grail.

In 1997, Rykodisc released nine of the tracks as Tracks And Traces. Today, the Gronland label has come out with the definitive version. The three previously unreleased cuts only add up to about ten minute’s worth of music, but their inclusion alters the entire context.

The previous version opened with the somewhat unsettling “Vemos Companeros.” It was almost a step straight into the abyss. The Re-Release begins with "Welcome," a beautiful proto-New Age piece which gently invites the listener in.

“Atmosphere” follows, and is aptly titled. It could have easily slotted in on Jean Michel Jarre’s Oxygene. The addition of this new material is seductive, and serves to clear the way for the more avant-garde material to follow. The effect is like an audio version of A Clockwork Orange.

The centerpiece (literally) is the 16 minute “Sometimes In Autumn.” This tour de force is a little slice of heaven to retro-futurists like myself. The synths may sound dated today, which is part of the charm, but the drones and repetitive motifs remain mesmerizing.

Nearly every song contains noteworthy elements, except for the lone vocal track, “Luneburg Heath.” Brian Eno’s flat intonation of the repeated line “Don’t get lost on Luneburg Heath," is out of place here. It is a minor complaint however, as the riches found on Tracks far outweigh this one misstep .

Tracks closes with “Aubade,” the final of the three unreleased cuts. The record originally ended with “Traces,” 1:33 of enormous potential, which left one wanting more. By finishing with the very open and bright "Aubade," the disc ends in a positive, and satisfying way.

The additional three tracks included on Tracks And Traces Re-Released give it a remarkable feeling. Sort of like being immersed in a fascinating, if at times disturbing vision.

Like the best dreams, it is a place you instinctively want to return to.

Music Review: Sonny Rollins With Thelonius Monk And Kenny Dorham - Moving Out


In late 1954 Sonny Rollins recorded the two sessions which resulted in Moving Out. He then went on the first of his famous “sabbaticals,” laying low in Chicago for most of 1955. He emerged with his first acknowledged masterpiece, Saxophone Colossus shortly afterward.

In hindsight, the five tunes that make up Moving Out clearly show the saxophonist as being well on his way to the mastery of Colossus. The quintet that gathered August 19, 1954 would be considered a jazz “supergroup" today.

In addition to Rollins’ sax, there was Kenny Dorham (trumpet), Elmo Hope (piano), Percy Heath (bass) and Art Blakey (drums).

The record opens up with the title cut, “Moving Out.” This is a high-energy number with some great solos by everyone, particularly Elmo Hope. Art Blakey then announces his presence in no uncertain terms to begin “Swingin’ For Bumsey.”

Another up-tempo piece, “Bumsey” introduces one of the most satisfying elements of Moving Out. The way Rollins’ sax and Dorham’s trumpet trade off solos is something to hear.

This methodology becomes even more pronounced on the blues “Solid.” The two horns play in tandem to open up the tune, then wail on their respective solos.

“Silk ‘N’ Satin” is the first track to really explore the full-bodied sound Sonny Rollins later became so famous for. This ballad is almost wholly Rollins, with the rest of the group laying back for the most part, although Hope’s piano does provide a short interlude at one point.

Two months later, on October 25,1954, Rollins went back into Rudy Van Gelder’s studio. He was accompanied on this date by Thelonius Monk (piano), Tommy Potter (bass), and Arthur Taylor (drums).

The majority of these sessions were released on the excellent Thelonius Monk/Sonny Rollins LP. However, one track was selected from them to fill out side two of Moving Out. The ten minute “More Than You Know” is an exquisite piece of music.

After a brief bass intro from Tommy Potter, Sonny’s sax enters. His melancholic lead is riveting for the first 4:30, when it is replaced with the even more introspective piano of Thelonius Monk. The final two minutes of the tune are again taken by Rollins, who winds the song, and the album down in a simply marvelous way.

Moving Out is a great snapshot of where Sonny Rollins was at just prior to his “time out.” It also contains some fine jazz music, state of the art, as a matter of fact, circa 1954.