The Musical Box

+ Herbie Hancock: Maiden Voyage (1965) – Over 45 years on, Maiden Voyage remains the jewel of Hancock’s 1960s Blue Note catalogue. The personnel replicates the Miles Davis Quintet of the previous year (with the newly departed George Coleman returning on sax and Freddie Hubbard in for Davis), but the music is an original mix of jagged bop (Eye of the Hurricane) and serene lyricism (the title tune). It remains a lovely listen.

+ Pink Floyd: A Saucerful of Secrets (1968) – The torch is passed here from Syd Barrett to David Gilmour as Pink Floyd settles into the lineup that would last through the making of The Wall. Secrets sounds somewhat dated in its overtly psychedelic slant. But that’s half the fun. Gilmour and Roger Waters, even then, were the figureheads. But Richard Wright’s keyboard colors give Secrets its texture, mystery and, ultimately, allure.

+ Neil Young and Crazy Horse: Year of the Horse (1997) – Granted, Year of the Horse was the third live album in as many decades to team Young with his longstanding garage rock troupe Crazy Horse. And, yes, some of the repertoire spills over from the previous concert records. But the playing here is outrageous, whether it is through the funereal reading of Human Highway or the electric bludgeoning of Slipaway. A brutal gem.

+ Fairport Convention: Babbacombe Lee (1971) – A tip to the seminal British folk-rock band’s annual summer festival, which takes places this weekend. Babbacombe Lee tells the story of an Englishman, convicted of murder, who survives multiple attempts of execution by hanging. The tale is almost Dickensian. But the music, full of dramatic harmonies and traditional-meets-progressive interplay, is all Fairport.

+ Various Artists: The Harder They Come (2002/1972) – Still can’t stop listening to reggae star Jimmy Cliff’s outstanding comeback album, Rebirth. The record also pushed me to rediscover the 2002 reissue of The Harder They Come. Often mistaken for a Cliff album, this soundtrack-and-more set is actually a reggae primer with invigorating rhythms by The Maytals, Desmond Dekkar and a youthful Cliff at his mightiest.

+ King Crimson: Live at the Marquee – August 10, 1971 (2012/1971) – This newly unearthed concert recording is the proverbial rabbit-out-of-a-hat, a surprise snapshot capturing the free jazz symmetry, prog-ish abandon and improvisational daring of what remains the most unfairly maligned Crimson lineup. The elegance of Formentera Lady and Cadence and Cascade, the mounting instrumental firepower of The Sailor’s Tale and The Letters and the recording’s pristine sound quality all represent the 1971-72 era Crimson at its finest.

+ Deep Purple and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra: Concerto for Group and Orchestra (2002/1969) – Dug this out after hearing the sad news of Jon Lord’s death a few weeks ago. Considered one of the first extended alliances of rock and orchestral music, the concerto is entirely Lord’s creation. It’s a bit haughty and a bit dated, but there are lovely passages, especially when the orchestra goes it alone. This 2002 set boasts three bonus tracks sans the strings – Hush, Child in Time and the mighty Wring That Neck. Lord plays like a lunatic during the latter.

+ Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band: Bat Chain Puller (2012/1976) – This was the great lost Captain Beefheart record, an album that cleansed the aftertaste left by two disastrous commercial crossover attempts in the mid ‘70s. But due to various legal tangles, Bat Chain Puller was never released until this year. And what a monster it is, from the twisted vaudeville lead of Harry Irene to the beat-less beat poetry of 81 Poop Hatch to the title tune, which chugs along like a wheezy freight train with a sensibility that was punk before punk was hip.

+ Santana: Lotus (1991/ 1974) – Originally a three record concert LP set issued in Japan following Santana’s heavily spiritual and jazz-directed Welcome album in 1973, Lotus didn’t receive a domestic release until this double CD set surfaced 17 years later. Here, brave compositions by Antonio Carlos Jobim and Chick Corea sit side by side with Santana faves like Soul Sacrifice and Incident at Neshabur. Two years later, the band would reinvent itself as a conventional pop unit. Lotus, though, is a fireball of Latin psychedelic spiritualism.

+ The Steve Miller Band: Your Saving Grace (1990/1969) – One of the great overlooked recordings in Miller’s pre-Joker catalogue, Your Saving Grace offered boogie-driven basics (Little Girl), psychedelic meditations (Baby’s House), protest songs (Don’t Let Nobody Turn You Around) and trippy pop (the title tune). But leading the pack is a slow, chilling, electric reading of Motherless Children that represents the stylistic depth of Miller’s music before the hits took over. Sadly, this 1990 CD edition has been out of print for years.

+ Grateful Dead: Dave’s Picks, Vol. 2 (2012/1974) – Sporting a leaner sound than usual thanks to the economical playing of drummer Bill Kreutzmann and keyboardist Keith Godchaux, this latest mail-order-only archival live release from 1974 showcases the Dead’s strengths (Jerry Garcia’s exquisite guitar improvs during I Know You Rider and Wharf Rat) and shortcomings (the paint-peeling singing of Donna Jean Godchaux). Then you have those great ensemble blasts, as on Jack Straw, where the Dead simply soar.

+ Doug Dillard: The Banjo Album (1994/1970) – The pop world mourned the deaths of Donna Summer and Robin Gibb last week. But behind the headlines was news of banjoist Doug Dillard’s passing. This 1994 reissue of Dillard’s aptly titled 1970 instrumental album serves as a brilliant intro (and postscript) to his playing. Backed by giants like John Hartford and Gene Clark, Dillard ran circles around bluegrass and old timey tunes. But Bells of St. Mary’s backed by harpsichord? That proved just how wily Dillard was.

+ Joe Cocker: Sheffield Steel (2002/1982) – Released 30 years ago today, Sheffield Steel took Cocker to Nassau for recording sessions with producer Chris Blackwell and the all-star reggae duo of drummer Sly Dunbar and bassist Robbie Shakespeare. What resulted wasn’t reggae, but a fascinating, groove-centric blend of rock, dub and soul. The medley of Bill Withers’ ominous Ruby Dee and the churchy Jimmy Cliff gem Many Rivers to Cross reveals how readily Cocker’s grizzled vocals took to the music and material.

+ Argent: All Together Now (2012/1972) – Funny how Argent’s most popular album was also the entry in its Epic Records catalogue that has been out-of-print the longest. The British label Esoteric finally resurrected it this spring. The radio hit Hold Your Head Up hardly sounds dated at all since its release 40 summers ago. More prog-directed extremes like the playful suite Fantasia and the anthemic I Am the Dance of Ages, less so. But the record remains a wonderful timepiece of proud, prog-ish pop and Argent’s finest hour.

+ Jeff Parker Trio: Bright Light in Winter (2012) – Parker is a true rarity among jazz guitarists. On this wonderfully atmospheric album, he offers nine tunes that stroll along with casual, emotive fire, coloring a traditional guitar/bass/drums trio with very subtle electronics and, on occasion, flute (courtesy of bassist Chris Lopes). In less industrious hands, such a formula would disintegrate into cosmic wallpaper music. But this is substantial jazz all the way that, despite the album title, casts an inviting, summery glow.

Van Morrison:  A Period of Transition (1977) – Dismissed by many as Morrison’s most uneven album of the ‘70s, Transition boasts the proud sound of a master songsmith rediscovering his blues and soul roots. Co-produced by the tireless Mac Rebennack (Dr. John), the fun shifts from the serene R&B meditation The Eternal Kansas City to two of the most unabashedly cheery nuggets in the entire Morrison canon – Joyous Sound and Flamingos Fly.

Merle Travis: Strictly Guitar (1968) – Listen to the immaculately sunny tone and patient lyrical charm on the all-instrumental Strictly Guitar and you can’t help but wonder what in God’s name happened to country music over the past four-plus decades. Though short on running time (under 25 minutes), this set of ‘20s and ‘30s-era staples (highlighted by a summery Dance of the Goldenrods and its unexpectedly treacherous rhythmic turns) overwhelms with unforced picking brilliance.

Bill Frisell: Ghost Town (2000) – A guitarist of an altogether different color and style, Frisell goes it alone on Ghost Town, creating a panoramic Americana portrait that weaves fascinating original works (Tell You Ma, Tell Your Pa) with classics by Hank Williams (I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry) and John McLaughlin (Follow Your Heart). Frisell’s wiry electric vocabulary is augmented by acoustic guitar and banjo for a sound as earthy as it is ghostly.

Chuck Mead and his Grassy Knoll Boys: Back at the Quonset Hut (2012) – BR549 cofounder Mead takes his newest retro country outfit to Nashville’s famed Quonset Hut studio with a few celebrity pals for a seriously cool tribute album where the repertoire (the overlooked George Jones hit You Better Treat Your Man Right with a stoic Jamey Johnson singing harmony) is as cool as the delivery (the red hot rockabilly of the Johnny Horton gem Honky Tonk Hardwood Floor).

U.K.: U.K. (1978) – No, this isn’t the by-product of Wildcat Fever, but rather the self-titled debut album by the all-star prog-rock combo of Bill Bruford, Eddie Jobson, Allan Holdsworth and John Wetton. Though dated, especially in some of Jobson’s more languid keyboard passages, much of the playing is captivating, including Holdsworth’s exquisitely paced guitar solo during In the Dead of Night. Bruford and Holdsworth bolted after this record, leaving U.K. as a pre-Asia pop brigade.

+ The Doors: L.A. Woman (1971/2012): While this 40^th anniversary edition of L.A. Woman may be a bit late on the draw (it’s really 41 years old), the wait was worthwhile. The reissue pairs The Doors’ finest hour with a bonus disc boasting live rehearsal takes of the entire album. Throughout, Jim Morrison is full of playful bravado. Initially, L.A. Woman returned to The Doors to the top of the charts. Three months after its release, Morrison was dead.

+ Todd Rundgren: With a Twist (1997): Even Rundgren’s most ardent fans were repulsed by With a Twist’s premise of retooling his most popular singles into bossa nova ballads. But the album was no joke with Rundgren providing discreetly sunny yet slightly melancholic shades of summer to classics like I Saw the Light and comparative obscurities like Fidelity. In true Todd fashion, he toured behind With a Twist during the dead of winter.

+ Mingus Big Band: Live at Jazz Standard (2010): Next to Sun Ra’s still-active Arkestra, no large jazz ensemble masters the genius and eccentricities of its namesake leader with more adoration than the Mingus Big Band. Live at Jazz Standard presents the group (bolstered by all-stars like Randy Brecker and Jeff “Tain” Watts) on its New York home turf. What results is a profoundly soulful variation on the sometimes academic exactness of big band tradition.

+ Havana Jam 2 (1979): Unlike it’s more pop-inclined predecessor, Havana Jam 2 brings together jazz traditionalists (Dexter Gordon, Stan Getz), fusion upstarts (Weather Report, John McLaughlin’s Trio of Doom) and some of Cuba’s more devout nationalists (Irakere, before soon-to-be stars Paquito D’Rivera and Arturo Sandoval defected). Out-of-print for literally decades, this worldly jazz summit recently received limited CD release as an import.

* Pierre Moerlen’s Gong: Time is the Key (1978): An admittedly dated chronicle of the famed psychedelic unit during its revamped prog days with percussionist Pierre Moerlen, Time is the Key possesses a decidedly jazzy touch with vibraphone and keyboards leading the charge. The record starts to unravel at the midway point, succumbing to routine funk and fusion. But the first half of Time is the Key is all Mike Oldfield-ish, prog rock heaven.

Some weekend listening inspired by the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday:

+ Sly and the Family Stone: There’s a Riot Goin’ On (1971) – Sly Stone’s summery funk began to splinter, along with the Family Stone’s lineup, by the time Riot was issued 40 years this winter. The result was a darker, more urbanized and altogether wintry variation on the Stone groove. Curiously, the murkiest song on the album, Family Affair, was the hit. An often brilliant snapshot of pop-soul America from the early, turbulent ‘70s.

+ Elvin Jones: On the Mountain (1975) – A fusion-flavored obscurity from the great jazz drummer’s ‘70s catalog, Mountain teams Jones with keyboardist Jan Hammer and alumni bassist Gene Perla. The electric keys may deter purists, but Jones rides steady with plenty of discreet playing in between blasts of volcanic fury. Still out of print, Mountain sells online for as much as $50. Found a pristine used copy at CD Central last week for 6 bucks.

+ Sun Ra and his Intergalactic Myth Science Solar Arkestra: Sleeping Beauty (1979) – Described by one critic as “the great late night Sun Ra chillout album you never knew about,” Sleeping Beauty is the most accessible in a series of 1979 recordings reissued overseas in 2008. Outer space jazzman Ra eases off the avant garde anarachy for brassy gospel/soul/funk grooves fueled by electric keyboards and a 28-member strong Arkestra.

+ Bettye LaVette: The Scene of the Crime (2007) – The title of this second in a series of comeback albums by the great R&B matriarch refers to Muscle Shoals, Ala. and the Southern fried soul LaVette cut for a 1972 solo debut album that was infamously shelved. Her guides this time were Drive-By Truckers, direct descendents of the Muscle Shoals sound who help fortify the regal soul sass in tunes by Eddie Hinton and John Hiatt.

+ Randy Weston: The Storyteller (2010) – An underappreciated jazz elder, Weston has long favored music with worldly, roots-conscious accents. Shades of African and Afro-Cuban rhythms orchestrate this live recording from a 2009 Lincoln Center date, as does Weston’s beautifully beefy playing. The Storyteller also serves as a memorial to Benny Powell, Weston’s longtime trombonist, who died shortly before the recording’s release.

Haven’t done one of these rundowns in what seems like ages. Here are some of the retro sounds I’ve treated myself to of late when deadlines weren’t looming.

+ Paul Simon: The Rhythm of the Saints (1990) – Was redrawn to this after Simon’s sublime performance earlier this week at NKU. Having embraced world music on the preceding Graceland, Saints integrated the inspirations of West Africa more evenly with a series of decidedly non-commercial tunes that professed faith in wonderfully mystical and desperate terms. Two decades after its release, Saints remains a fascinating listen.

+ Rory Gallagher: BBC Sessions (1986) – A wonderful two-disc compendium of radio broadcasts by the late Irish guitarist that offers a surprisingly complete portrait of his musical strengths. The first disc, in particular, pieces together concert performances from throughout the ‘70s to create a makeshift set that runs from sinewy blues reflection to over-the-top boogie rampages. The second disc sticks to fine, early ‘70s BBC studio sets.

+ Terje Rypdal: To Be Continued (1981) – The second, and lesser known, global trio summit featuring Norwegian guitarist Rypdal, Czech bassist Miroslav Vitous and American drummer Jack DeJohnette. Cut in 1981 during the dead of an Oslo winter, To Be Continued is a mix of seasonal warmth and chill, as shown by the Nordic washes of electric guitar Rydal employs to paint these intimate yet otherworldly soundscapes.

+ Jethro Tull: Stand Up (1969/2010) – A re-release of Tull’s second album mixes folk, fancy and fuzzy psychedelia to embody the band’s pre-Aqualung sound. But the real draw is a bonus disc of a 1970 Carnegie Hall concert released only in peacemeal form until now along with BBC sets recorded closer to Stand Up’s initial release. Rounding it all out is Living in the Past, a 1969 British single that wouldn’t hit in America until late 1972.

+ Peter Green: The End of the Game (1970) – Less of an album than a jam session, this little known gem was the first recording issued by guitar great Green after defecting from Fleetwood Mac earlier in 1970. It sounds gloriously dated now, with a booming, echoing sound that recalls the regal guitar tone of the Apple Jam disc from George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass and some of Eric Clapton’s spicier Derek and the Dominoes jams.

+ Crowded House: North America Travelogue 2010 (2011) – A favorite among the releases issued last weekend for Record Store Day, Travelogue is also the sort of bargain that will make Crowded House fans drool. A 3-CD set with only perfunctory packaging, it gathers nearly 50 separate songs from the band’s summer tour last year – from House favorites to Split Enz gems, all beautifully performed and recorded. And all for $18. What a deal.

+ Poco: Crazy Eyes (1973) – The last studio album to feature Poco founder Richie Furay, outside of superfluous reunion efforts, Crazy Eyes was also the country-rock ensemble’s bravest effort. Furay’s nearly 10 minute title tune, a sort of ambient orchestral country fantasy, may just be Poco’s finest studio work. But the calming cover of J.J. Cale’s Magnolia and Rusty Young’s regal pedal steel playing ignite the rest of the album.

+ Melvin Sparks: Legends of Acid Jazz (1996) – The recent death of Texas-born guitarist Sparks went largely unnoticed by the pop mainstream. But this no-frills primer, which gathers two early ‘70s Prestige albums (Melvin Sparks and Spark Plug) asserts Spark’s sleek soul jazz lyricism on classics by Sly and the Family Stone, Rodgers & Hart, Eric Burdon and Kool and the Gang as well as some tasty Charles Earland-style originals.

+ Free: Free (2001/1970) – Part of an overhaul of the late ‘60s/early ‘70s Island albums by Brit rockers Free, this self-titled sophomore release comes with 10 bonus tunes, which doubles the album’s original running time. More important, multiple versions of acoustic works like Mouthful of Grass (especially Paul Kosoff’s killer solo instrumental version) and Mourning Sweet Morning help balance Free’s looser electric grinds.

+ Dewey Redman Quartet: The Struggle Continues (1982) – A departure from the ECM label’s usual school of Nordic jazz cool, The Struggles Continues is a wonderfully animated quartet session by tenor sax great Dewey Redman (father of Joshua Redman). The whole session swings with bright, immediate authority, from the summery Thren to the Monk-like Dewey Square. Drummer Ed Blackwell sounds like a million bucks, too.

+ Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band: Safe as Milk (1967) – From an audience standpoint, this is where the long, very strange trip of Don Van Vliet began. Located between dark Delta blues and pure pop psychedelia – along with cameos by Taj Mahal, Milt Holland and a very young Ry Cooder – Safe as Milk remains the most accessible and perhaps most joyous misadventure in the entire Beefheart catalog. RIP, Captain.

+ Dexter Gordon: Live at Carnegie Hall (1998) – A string of late ‘70s recordings for Columbia remain underappreciated chapters in tenor sax great Gordon’s suave jazz resurgence. Live at Carnegie Hall is a beautiful coda to those records. Though released in 1998, it presents a Carnegie Hall concert recorded two decades earlier with fellow tenor warrior Johnny Griffin as special guest. A gorgeous blast of regal bop beauty.

+ Jorma Kaukonen: Jorma (1979) – With Hot Tuna sitting in a pile of neo-metal wreckage and a brief, punkish sojourn with Vital Parts knocking at the door, guitarist Kaukonen cut this unaccompanied work that harkens back to his more wistful songs with Jefferson Airplane as well as some of Hot Tuna’s leaner blues beginnings. But it’s the album’s sparse, mysterious sound that ignites one of Kaukonen’s most neglected works.

+ The Band: Northern Lights Southern Cross (1975) – It pales next to The Band’s early classics, but Northern Lights still emits an ultra wintry glow. Levon Helm sounds positively righteous on Ring Your Bell, Richard Manuel sings like a boozy angel on Hobo Jungle, Rick Danko reaches a vocal zenith with It Makes No Difference and Robbie Robertson pens a masterful tale of displacement with Acadian Driftwood.

+ Graham Parker: Alone in America (1989) – This solo live set stands as a snapshot in time with a repertoire made up mostly of  pub-soul gems Parker first cut with The Rumour. But we’re slipped a mickey half way through with The 3 Martini Lunch, an album exclusive that chronicles a Hollywood novice-turned-burnout “wasting another afternoon punching a hole in my life.” Seldom has getting plastered sounded so sobering.

Can’t really explain why, but Thanksgiving week guided me back to these sublime solo piano works…

+ Liz Story: Night Sky Essays (2005) – Like Story’s fine Windham Hill recordings, Night Sky Essays – 12 pieces, each composed for a specific zodiacal sign – is a direct, emotive and at times atmospheric blend of folk and jazz stategies. The album emerged with almost zero fanfare five years ago. Sadly, Story has all but disappeared since then.

+ Yngve Goddal and Roger T. Matte: Genesis for Two Grand Pianos, Vols. 1 & 2 - (2010) – Yngve who? Roger what? Don’t worry, the pianists underscore their anonymity by purposely omitting their names from the cover credits so as to fully promote a fascinating concept – interpretations of Genesis’ most prog-ish music performed on only two pianos.

+ Matthew Shipp: Creation Out of Nothing (2010) – A double-disc outing pulled from a February 2009 concert in Moscow by one of today’s most inventive piano improvisers. Musically, Shipp possesses the playfulness of Thelonious Monk with the daring of Cecil Taylor. But when Shipp’s own piano voice is asserted, as on Patmos, Creation shines.

+ Chuck Leavell: Forever Blue (2001) – The longtime Rolling Stones pianist offers a solo piano set that reflects his rich Southern background. Echoes of blues, ragtime, boogie woogie, jazz and more surface. But Forever Blue is at its best when it regally mixes such melodic sounds, as on Leavell’s decades-old Sea Level tune, A Lotta Colada.

+ Keith Jarrett: The Carnegie Hall Concert (2006) – Not the best solo piano concert album cut by Jarrett (although it’s close), but certainly the best recorded. Carnegie Hall provides every storm-gathering soundscape, every fanciful turn and every vocal grunt with the clarity only a great record label (ECM) and ever greater concert hall can provide.