Back in 2014, jazz trumpeter Takuya Kuroda released Rising Son, an album that combined jazz, hip hop, and a little psychedelia and went to number one on the Japanese jazz charts. Now, a decade later, First Word Records has reissued the album (which would cost you a pretty penny if you were to buy an original 2014 pressing) and included a new remix with it.
The album is a collection of mostly Roy Ayers covers, but with added hip hop and Afrobeat rhythms and other flourishes that remind you of late nights in Brooklyn, New York (who Kuroda is based) or Kobe, Japan (where Kuroda was born). The crisp, snappy beats from Nate Smith on the opening title track alone will grab your attention and send hip hop producers scrambling for their mixers. Kuroda’s funky and lush trumpet comes in an has those same producers thinking they can’t get this stuff into a track fast enough. “Afro Blues” definitely has Afrobeat stylings all over it, and they mix great with traditional (Is there such a thing?) jazz organ riffs from Kris Bowers.
“Piri Piri” is so slick that you might slip and fall on it as it slides out of your speakers. “Mala” has this cool 1970s jazz lounge vibe to it, reminding me a bit of some of Boz Scaggs‘ material from then. Just when you think the album can’t get any funkier, along comes “Everybody Loves the Sunshine,” which will be one of those songs you want to play for everyone at every summer party from now until forever.
Kuroda’s trumpet and Corey King‘s trombone go together like hot chocolate and warm milk on “Green and Gold,” and Bowers’ keyboard work on it is the whipped cream on top. “Sometime, Somewhere, Somehow” takes its time to create a soulful love track that doesn’t rush anything…like a good lover. “Call” is over nine minutes of groovy, funky, and introspective (but never turning into mindless noodling) jazz-funk that seems perfect for both rainy and sunny days.
The album ends with a 2024 remix of “Everybody Loves the Sunshine” by Joe Armon-Jones, turning it into a synthwave jam that puts a neat, new spin on it.
It’s a groovy record, and one you’ll want in your collection. Get it now before it goes out of your price range again.
Steve Albini, who recently died of a heart attack at just 61 years of age, might have been the last producer who frequently and joyfully stuck his middle finger in the eye of the music industry. He enjoyed being outside the mainstream, even when working with well-known acts such as Nirvana.
Nirvana were rulers of the radio, college campuses, pop culture, and practically everything else after the success of Nevermind. The whole world wanted a new album, and they went to Albini to produce it. That album became In Utero, which was originally considered “unreleasable” by the band’s label – which Albini and the band found baffling and, looking back, humorous…especially since it’s sold millions of copies by now.
Albini, by the way, collected no royalties on In Utero, or any other album he produced. He only charged his production fee of less than eight hundred bucks a day, and he’d often let friends use his studio for free. He could’ve been a millionaire off royalties from In Utero alone, but he didn’t care about that. He cared about music first and foremost and helping bands catch something raw and pure (“If a record takes more than a week to make, somebody is fucking up.” – from a letter he wrote to Nirvana before the In Utero recordings began).
He was one of the last to not really give a crap about what labels, radio programming managers, and music festival promoters thought. He openly hated most music festivals (and, somewhat famously, Steely Dan), and only played PrimaveraSound in Barcelona with his band Shellac…who were due to release a new album, To All Trains, ten days after he died.
The list of Albini’s credits is insane. His most famous works are In Utero, Pixies‘ Surfer Rosa, The Jesus Lizard‘s Pure, and P.J. Harvey‘s Rid of Me. The following is a list of albums he produced that I personally own:
The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion – self-titled album (1992), Acme (1998), Xtra Acme USA (1999), and Plastic Fang (2002), Failure– Comfort (1992), Helmet – Meantime (1992), Nirvana – In Utero (1993),Pixies – Wave of Mutilation: Best of Pixies (2004), Living Things – Ahead of the Lions (2005), Screaming Females – Ugly (2012), Live at the Hideout(2014), and Rose Mountain(2015), Man or Astroman? – Defcon 5 4 3 2 1 (2013), Flat Worms – Antarctica (2019), Fuzz – III(2020).
Antarctica, by the way, was my top album of 2019.
Albini will be greatly missed, but he left a big legacy and massive shoes to fill. I hope someone picks up his band-loving torch and runs with it.
elvis, he was Schlager, the debut album from Church Chords, is difficult to describe, but that’s part of what makes it so good.
Combining recorded field sounds and samples with live performances in the studio, the album is a blend of musical influences from three cities: Philadelphia, Chicago, and Los Angeles. It’s the brainchild of producer / multi-instrumentalist Stephen Buono, who decided to become more of a producer / bandleader / circus ringmaster with a wide number and variety of musicians from those three cities.
The result is a neat experimental record that somehow blends electro, post-punk, psych-rock, jazz, and other stuff I can’t quite define into sort of a calm chaos. It’s like the album cover, a woman stopped along a roadway while forest burns immediately next to her and she records the growing danger on her phone…or perhaps is reciting her thoughts for future meditations.
Songs like “Recent Mineral” and “Apophatic Melismatic” combine killer bass riffs with soft vocals and hip-hop drums. “Spacetime Pauses” reminds me of some of MC 900 Foot Jesus‘ jazz-psych fusion tracks.
Songs like “Warriors of Playtime” bring in wild jazz horns and prog-rock guitars. “She Lays of a Leaf” has industrial beats and, I think, vocals from Chicago alt-rockers Finom to make it a weird robot-dance / lounge club groover that builds into something that would fit into a late 1970s French erotic thriller. “Owned By Lust,” on the other hand, would fit into a modern horror film with its panicked guitar licks and rambling madman vocals.
“Then Awake” has sultry vocals over a synth-bass line that moves like a snake across a sand dune at midnight. “Man on a Wire” reminds me of some Siouxsie and The Banshees tracks with the vocal stylings, goth synths, and post-punk saxophone and beats. The vocals on “I Hope You See” are layered with extra effects to almost make them unintelligible, but also make them more ethereal.
In case you’re wondering, as I was, “Schlager” is a type of European pop music characterized by catchy beats and love-song lyrics. I suppose Elvis Presleywas that for many of the masses. This record has catchy beats and love-song lyrics, but it’s not Schlager. It’s too experimental, too stream-of-consciousness, too odd.
But it’s not too much of any of that either. It’s one of the most interesting records I’ve heard so far this year.
One of the biggest surprises for me of 2023 was that stoner metal giants Acid King released a new album – Beyond Vision. Shame on me for taking so long to get to it, because it’s a fine piece of work (and their first since 2015, no less).
The opening drone of “One Light Second Away” is perfect for the album’s cover image of some kind of heavenly cosmic tunnel / path leading to either an all-seeing eye or another reality we can’t yet comprehend. The instruments are subtle, even as they build in power, not overwhelming you right out of the gate. They’re still guiding you along this swirling tunnel of nebulae, planets, monoliths, stars, and lightning.
We’re floating in the astral plane by the time we drift into “Mind’s Eye.” It hits hard in all the ways you want a stoner metal track to hit – crashing drums, deep Earth-heavy bass, wasp’s nest-buzz-menace guitar, and ghost-like vocals. “Transmissions from the sky, from someone left behind. Was it just a sign?” guitarist Lori S. sings on “90 Seconds,” a song of cosmic messages that sounds as ominous as its warnings.
“Electro Magnetic” starts like a giant robot powering up from sleep mode, shaking off cobwebs and dust, and arming its missiles and electro-magnetic power sword for battle in some kind of desolate wasteland. The short “Destination Psych” merges / melts right into the title track, which has Bil Bowman‘s drums landing like mortar shells and Rafa Martinez‘s bass chugging like hydraulic fluid through that giant robot’s metallic veins. The closer, “Color Trails,” is the sound of the giant monster rumbling across the land as the giant robot comes to meet it, missiles streaking across the sky, trees uprooted with each step from both, roars louder than thunder, robed monks watching a prophecy come true from a safe distance.
I love that most of Beyond Vision is instrumental. You can tune in and drop in rather than out. This album drops you into something beyond your current space.
Keep your mind open.
[Make the subscription box your next destination.]
No one knew in early 2023 that Desire Pathway would be Screaming Females‘ final full-length album. The band decided to call it quits late last year and have since only released one five-song EP (Clover). I haven’t read or heard any official reasons for the band’s dissolution, but it seems to be an amicable decision from a band who’d been one of the champions of the DIY method since their inception. Desire Pathway‘s title might have been a clue to what the band was thinking, as perhaps they each desired a different path to walk for a while. The cover art by guitarist and singer Marissa Paternoster depicts a city jammed with buildings and teeming with activity while open paths (or perhaps rivers) divide the city into sections and offer peaceful escapes from the chaos around them. Perhaps that’s what she, Mike Abbate (bass) and Jarrett Dougherty (drums) wanted – a nice path to walk so they could get away from the chaos of being one of the hardest working touring bands in the U.S.
Starting with the slow build of what sounds like a synthesizer found in a thrift store, “Brass Bell” kicks off Desire Pathway with growling energy that comes at you like an overstimulated orange cat. “I’m living in a brass bell. It’s too loud!” Paternoster sings, again a possible clue to the pressure / grind the band was feeling back then. “Desert Train” races by you like its namesake as Paternoster sings, “I know this feeling, tied to the road. I’ll get high ’til I explode.” and puts down one of her signature ripping solos. On “Let You Go,” she sings, “If I could explain it, how black turns into blue. Now the stage is empty and I am, too.” The signs are right there that she was tired. She and her bandmates weren’t tired of jamming, however, as all of three of them click well on the track. Dougherty’s drumming is especially crisp on it.
“Beyond the Void” is a beautiful love song, the kind Screaming Females do so well – singing about the blissful and sometime frightening parts of love while putting down solid rock licks and bright bursts of sound. “Mourning Dove” is a good example of their “sad” love songs, as Paternoster knows her lover is going to leave soon and there’s nothing she can do about it.
“It’s All Said and Done” has lyrics back to their punk roots as they take a swing at government overreach (“No one’s safe. The state will surround you. When they come, here’s what they’ll say: Trust in the dream, don’t deny. Time says it can be yours.”). Paternoster’s guitar work on “Ornament” is so deft that you almost miss it. It seems subtle at first, but you realize how skillful it is when you listen close.
On “So Low,” Paternoster practically begs a lover to not reject her. It’s a modern day blues song without a single blues lick in it. “Let Me into Your Heart” is in a similar vein, but with heavier hits from Abbate’s chugging bass and Paternoster’s lyrics reflecting how her lover bears some responsibility in all of this for a lack of willingness to fully embrace her (“I know the mess I made, admit that I’m afraid. You’ll never let me into your heart.”).
The album closes with “Titan,” which contains what might be the biggest clue to the band’s decision to give it a rest in the first verse: “You smoked beside the stage, with the can in your hand, then you said to me, I’m tired. Please make it true and do what I, I have asked of you.” She and her bandmates weren’t the only ones who needed a break, so did their families and lovers. So, they end the album with a sizzling, growling, heavy-hitter that has some of Abbate and Dougherty’s best rhythm work on the record.
Desire Pathway was a good one to leave on the path for us fans. Screaming Females never put out a bad record. You can start anywhere in their catalog and be amazed. I hope their new paths lead to great(er) things.
Keep your mind open.
[I desire that you take the pathway to the subscription box.]
As if bossa nova queen Astrud Gilberto‘s lovely voice isn’t enough motivation for you to pick up her 1972 album, Now, then consider that she teamed up with a stunning array of musicians on the record (as she tended to do) from Brazil and the U.S. Gilberto self-produced the record and enlisted Eumar Deodato for arrangements.
Starting with the playful “Zigy Zigy Za,” Now begins with funky jazz drums from Billy Cobham and fun organ solos from Mike Longo. “Make Love to Me” is an English-vocal ballad with a sound to it that reminds me of soft-lit late night live TV broadcasts from 1972. Longo’s piano on “BaiĆ£o” could almost fit in a rock song and reminds me a bit of the kind of stuff Ben Folds plays nowadays. Gilberto has fun with the track, as it just seems to be her, Longo, Cobham, and Deodato (on acoustic guitar) having a laugh with a fun track.
“Sunday was a fun day I spent with you,” Gilberto sings on “Touching You,” another sweet ballad to her lover…but he’s not real. She can only dream about him. “Gingele” mixes groovy bossa nova with a touch of lounge-disco into a funky brew. “Take It Easy My Brother Charlie” mixes English and Portuguese lyrics and is one of the standout tracks on the record. The flow of it is infectious and gets you moving and smiling. You instantly agree with Gilberto that things will get better and not to fret about things that are fleeting.
“Where Have You Been?” is a sad tale of loneliness from Gilberto that will hit you hard if you’ve been through a heart-breaking loss. The string arrangements on it are a nice touch. The swinging beats of Cobham’s drums on “General da Banda” are sharp as a hatchet. “I have crossed a thousand bridges in search of something real,” Gilberto sings on “Bridges” – a song about her many travels around the world and how bridge, literal and figurative, has lead to or from some significant moment in her life. The album concludes with “Daybreak” and Gilberto singing “I’m walking out on yesterday.” She encourages us to go forward, to live in the now and not in a past that was gone the moment it happened.
It’s, as always, lovely sweet stuff from Gilberto. She doesn’t miss.
Tucked on a corner lot at 2960 North High Street in Columbus, Ohio, Lost Weekend Records takes up the bottom floor of this building and stuffs a lot of cool stuff inside the limited space. You’re blitzed with a lot of stuff you’ll want as soon as you walk in the door.
The selection is mostly vinyl, but there are CDs, cassettes, and other stuff there if you’re not a vinyl collector (like yours truly). However, the vinyl they do have is nifty, with a lot of stuff from all over the musical map. Turn into the room on the right when you first walk in and scope all this wax.
And check out all those great gig posters and flyers! I’d love to have this one in my collection.
Speaking of cool punk rock stuff, they have a big collection of punk rock 7″ singles from a ton of obscure bands. It’s a goldmine for such stuff.
Two long shelves of punk rock / indie 7″ singles!
They also do a good job of what any good wrecka stow will do – supporting local bands. They have a whole section dedicated to Ohio artists.
Finally, if all this wasn’t enough, they also give away concert tickets.
1. Kraftwerk 2. Khruangbin. 3. Nelsonville Music Festival. Also, that is a vintage copy of the first issue of Rolling Stone for sale in that display case.
It’s a neat place. I picked up a CD copy of Electric Wizard‘s Dopethrone there for not even five bucks. You can’t beat that.
Failure‘s debut album, Comfort, does something right away that the band loves doing – making you uncomfortable. This is often done through cryptic lyrics that challenge one’s thoughts on reality and fantasy, technology and humanity, or love and despair…all with crushing shoegaze riffs and masterful production. Comfort gets you unsettled right out of the gate with the album’s cover. Who is that girl? Is that a shadow of a cow behind her? Or a minotaur? Is it supposed to be her shadow? I don’t know, and the album’s songs don’t give a hint either…which is part of the fun, really.
“Submission” might be about sex, but I think it’s more about how easy it is to get trapped in the rat race (“They work hard and they sell things. We like that, ’cause there’s no choice.”). Failure waste no time in pummeling you with thick bass (courtesy of Greg Edwards) on the track, and then Robert Gauss pummels you further on “Macaque” – which is literally about a monkey lead singer Ken Andrews saw in a Los Angeles zoo that provided him with a Zen-like moment of enlightenment. Andrews’ guitar on “Something” swells and builds like river water casually drifting along one moment and then turning into a racing current below the surface the next.
“Screen Man” has a sense of menace throughout it, which is appropriate since it’s about a man on Andrews’ TV screen who freaks the hell out of him (“This man’s eyes are serious. He’s the man in my screen. I cannot let him frighten me.”). Andrews’ guitar is like lightning you see on the horizon (And the solo? Holy crap.), whereas Edwards’ bass is distant thunder, and Gauss’ drums are the wind that keeps building as the clouds get closer.
On “Swallow,” producer Steve Albini hung a microphone from the ceiling and swung it like a pendulum to record Andrews’ vocals during the first verse, causing a weird panning effect and being a neat example of the kind of stuff Failure love experimenting with in a studio setting. “Muffled Snaps” continues some of this experimentation with Gauss’ drums taking on odd sounds and Andrews’ guitar nearly sounding broken until the song bursts forth like dragster. The lyrics reference physical violence, and it seems to be a song about boxing…or at least fighting. It certainly hits like a boxing match.
Gauss’ drums on “Kindred” are sharp, hitting hard in all the right places. “Pro-Catastrophe” is a whopper, with Andrews flat-out telling people he’s looking forward to an apocalypse and watching chaos unfold around him. Little did he know, that in 2020…Edwards goes nuts on a fretless bass throughout it, often making your head spin with the licks he puts down on it.
“Princess” is sort of a love song, as Andrews sings praises to his lady pal (“I’m always pleased that you don’t say no.”). It’s a burner that’s over before you catch your breath. The album ends with “Salt Wound,” a song about one of Failure’s favorite subjects – relationships going awry. The trio unleash a sound that reflect Andrews’ confusion about why his girl is leaving him and the nervousness that comes with a future alone. Edwards’ bass pounds in your brain, Andrews’ guitar dissolves into a jumbled rage, and Gauss’ drums are a pounding heartbeat ready to burst.
Comfort heralded great things to come for Failure. It’s a great place to start if you’re new to them. Hearing how they evolved from this is a neat journey, and the remaster of the album done by the band in 2023 is sharp.
Keep your mind open.
[It would be a comfort to me if you subscribed today.]
