The White Stripes – White Blood Cells

White Blood Cells

The White StripesWhite Blood Cells Sympathy For the Record Industry (2001)


Jack and Meg White made the ideal rock duo. As a songwriter, Jack was like the second coming of Alex Chilton. He wrote catchy songs with their complexity left intact. He was confident in some ways and insecure in others. He certainly was honest either way. Being a sensitive guy these days presents him with a whole bunch of new confusions. It doesn’t always seem worth it. Jack seems to want to be the person he is. The tension of maybe wanting commitment with being a cool rock star isn’t sentimental in the slightest. The songs are intended to be a little ragged. That’s just indirect proof of what is accomplished smoothly, silently throughout.

I liked White Blood Cells when I firsts heard it, but didn’t quite get the hype. When I could hardly take it out of my player over the next months I realized how great an album it was. It’s an album where it’s worth reading between the lines.  Later White Stripes albums had increasingly more filler, and Jack White’s first few solo albums tried rather too hard and displayed an unlikable political stance.  Still, White Blood Cells is where everything came together just right.

The Swan Silvertones – If You Believe

If You Believe

The Swan SilvertonesIf You Believe HOB HBX 2135 (1971)


If You Believe (or If You Believe Your God Is Dead, Try Mine, as the sticker on the LP itself says) was sort of a transitional album for The Swan Silvertones.  They seem to have made some overt attempts to keep their sound up to date, without completely abandoning the style they settled into starting in the late 1960s.  Side two is stronger than side one.  It’s somewhat easy to tell why.  Longtime band member and manager John Myles was a good, strike that, great arranger.  He only arranged three songs on this album, though — the title track plus the first two songs on side two.  While this album isn’t his finest hour by any means, he’s still effective.  Most of side one was arranged by Louis Johnson, with some assistance from James Lewis.  Johnson was not very adept at using arrangements to match the material to individual singers’ strengths.  He also tended to put himself way out in front and minimize the backing vocals, at times to the point where the backing harmonies seem like an afterthought.  Because he dominates side one, it doesn’t really move like it could.  New (or new-ish) members James Chapman and James Lewis wrote the last two songs on the album and sing lead vocals on them.  It is a nice change of pace to hear their contributions, which, along with the greater presence of John Myles, make side two the more interesting and enjoyable half of the album.  The instrumental backing is purely functional throughout, not the subtle counterpoint it was previously or the saving grace it would be later on.  This isn’t a bad Swan Silvertones album, but it’s also far from their best.

As an aside, the titles of the last two songs seem to be erroneously reversed on the original album jacket (“Live Together” is heard last on the recording itself), continuing the sloppy packaging in which HOB Records seemed to excel.

The Swan Silvertones – Only Believe

Only Believe

The Swan SilvertonesOnly Believe HOB HOB282 (1968)


The original album jacket clearly identifies Only Believe as a studio album, but the feel is loose and in the spirit of a live performance complete with audience applause and shouts.  Lots of space is given over to what seem like improvised passages.  Rev. Claude Jeter‘s “replacement” Carl Davis is featured on a few songs, with Louis Johnson leading the group in a decidedly rock/soul direction throughout.  Paul Owens also gets a lot of room here, singing some great leads on “Tell God” and “Oh Lord, I Thank You”.  This is a pretty enjoyable outing, with the more open-ended arrangements proving to be an effective change of pace from the group’s intricate early 1960s sound.  The Swan Silvertones really perfected this style on Great Camp Meeting.

As a side note, the opener “I Only Believe” is presented in two parts with a break in between, though the album jacket doesn’t really note that fact (though CD reissues tend to present each part as a separate track).  Also, the song is listed as 5:29 in length but is in actuality a minute shorter.

Sun Ra – The Futuristic Sounds of Sun Ra

The Futuristic Sounds of Sun Ra

Sun RaThe Futuristic Sounds of Sun Ra Savoy MG 12169 (1962)


Sun Ra’s one and only album for Savoy was The Futuristic Sounds of Sun Ra.  Along with Jazz By Sun Ra, Vol. 1 and the delayed release of Sound of Joy, it was far and away the most hi-fi recording of his music to date.  The sound is mostly beatnik coffee house swing/bop, but with a little more of the percussion-heavy exotica allowed to shine through.  It’s all a bit more reigned in than the various 50s recordings that began to surface in the coming years on Ra’s own El Saturn label, but still good.  Anyone wanting to test the waters with Ra should find this a fine place to start, bearing in mind that Ra’s recordings get quite a bit more adventurous and daring from here on out.

Spirit of Memphis – Happy in the Service of the Lord (1949-1954)

Happy in the Service of the Lord (1949-1954)

Spirit of MemphisHappy in the Service of the Lord (1949-1954) Acrobat ADDCD 3007 (2005)


Top notch gospel.  The Spirit of Memphis had some of the best vocalists around during the 1949-1954 period represented on Happy In the Service of the Lord.  Stylistically, they weren’t innovators exactly, but followed the lead of The Soul Stirrers.  That is hardly a limitation.  Pretty much every track here is a winner.  Anyone interested in golden age black gospel will find a lot to like.  This is one of the best compilations of its type available.

The Ornette Coleman Quartet – This Is Our Music

This Is Our Music

The Ornette Coleman QuartetThis Is Our Music Atlantic 1353 (1961)


The biography of Ornette Coleman in the late 1950s and early 1960s is fascinating.  He recorded all his early studio albums in Los Angeles, and This Is Our Music came from his first sessions in New York City in later summer of 1960.  A lot had happened since he departed L.A. for good.  For one, he had finally, after many years, secured a running stand of gigs performing live (at The Five Spot Cafe) in 1959, and had become a polarizing sensation in the New York jazz world.  He followed that with a tour, and then back to more gigs in New York City.  What is more, while continuing to work with core collaborators Charlie Haden (bass) and Don Cherry (trumpet), his working band underwent an important shift.  Drummer Billy Higgins lost his cabaret card (essential for live performers in New York City at the time), which provided Ornette with the opportunity to reunite with innovative New Orleans drummer Ed Blackwell, who moved the group’s rhythmic structure further away from bebop.  Blackwell was an old friend of Ornette’s.  Suffice it to say, this version of the Ornette Coleman Quartet was well versed performing together by the time they entered the studio to record what became this album.

In the liner notes to the following year’s Ornette!, Gunther Schuller described the overall structure of an Ornette solo this way:

“Little motives are attacked from every conceivable angle, tried sequentially in numerous ways until they yield a motive springboard for a new and contrasting idea, which will in turn be developed similarly, only to yield another link in the chain of musical thought, and so on until the entire statement is made.”

This almost equates Ornette’s musical approach with the cubism of the likes of Picasso, a style frequently described as when a visual artist depicts a subject from a multitude of viewpoints in a single work.

George Russell also commented in 1960 about his own concept of “pan-tonality” and how Ornette represented a kind of implementation of an overall sound not bound to any one tonal center, whereby, as critic T.E. Martin later added (“The Plastic Muse, Part 2,” Jazz Monthly June 1964), all tonalities are possible.

Ornette and his sidemen have never offered any satisfactory explanation of “Harmolodics,” the musical theory Ornette applies.  Ornette tends to describe this as playing in “unison”, but the problem is that he uses that word in a way that is sui generis and therefore non-explanatory.  One of the more useful comments they have made (both Ornette and sideman Don Cherry are on record making such comments) is that the players think through all the chord changes in a song and then play something beyond the changes.  This comment doesn’t entirely make sense either.  Ornette’s bands didn’t exactly play atonally.  So this seems to circle back, perhaps, to George Russell’s comments about “pantonality” and Gunther Schuller’s comments about “motives”.  The underlying question is what links each sound together, harmonically (when played simultaneously) and melodically (when played over time).  Playing “beyond the changes” might mean that the subject of each song is never stated directly, but instead a copious amount of indirect statements (untethered to chord changes) imply what is missing and perhaps cannot be directly expressed by chord changes.  But really the reason why Ornette attempts any of this in the first place seems to lie beyond pure musicality and rest somewhere in the realm of sociopolitical ideology; Ornette’s worldview put him squarely on the political left, close to anarcho-syndicalism (don’t know what that is?  Read Ursula K. Le Guin‘s classic sci-fi novel The Dispossessed).

This Is Our Music is one of the essential Ornette Coleman albums.  It opens with the stupendous “Blues Connotation,” one of the songs that draws from Ornette’s background playing in R&B bands.  He does a few low, rumbling growl/squawks close to the R&B sax tradition.  The song is a great example of one of Ornette’s most endearing qualities.  This is a song with a melody that has an innocent, childlike simplicity, and yet, this is precisely not some sort of retreat to a fantasy of a safe and secure childhood.  No, this is about mature adult things, the sort of music that is beyond the capacity of infant children.  Yet it is an argument that mature adult topics should include a space for innocence and simplicity and goodness (compare here the physicist character Shevek in Le Guin’s novel mentioned earlier).

“Beauty Is a Rare Thing” is a slower tune that is an early example of Ornette’s interest in orchestral composition.  Haden plays his bass arco (bowed) insistently and deliberately to provide subtle and slowly evolving support, and Blackwell plays lightly on his toms (not unlike how a symphony would play tympani) and switches to cymbal rides and washes for a stretch.  Cherry plays brief squeaks behind Coleman, quite atonally.  The song is nothing if not a piece that builds and develops a sense of momentum in spite of the angular and abrupt soloing that would normally seem to lead in the opposite direction.

Kaleidoscope” is a twisting, complex composition.  It is a fast number drawing from bebop.  It quickens the tempo to something allegro (fast) after the largo (slow) “Beauty Is a Rare Thing.”  It’s also a chance to hear the players stretch out with showier solos.  Blackwell is all over his kit.  The horn players have been described as playing violently (relatively speaking).

“Embraceable You” is a rare standard (rare for Coleman albums that is).  It gets an appropriately sarcastic reading, complete with the horn players offering swaying, almost staggering lines, at times like a band playing gag lines to get a rise from the audience.

The rest of the album continues at a high level, mostly reaffirming what had already been mapped out earlier on the album.  But the compositions are strong, especially the quirky charm of the lyrical “Humpty Dumpty.”

This Is Our Music stands as one of the finest Ornette Coleman albums from top to bottom.  Even the cool indifferent photo of the group on the album cover, carrying the humbly provocative title “This Is Our Music,” has become iconic (and frequently tributed on other album covers).

Macklemore & Ryan Lewis – This Unruly Mess I’ve Made

This Unruly Mess I've Made

Macklemore & Ryan LewisThis Unruly Mess I’ve Made (2016)


Macklemore proves he is no fluke with his and Ryan Lewis’ follow-up to their surprise independent hit The Heist.  In many ways, This Unruly Mess I’ve Made is an even better album.  There is some filler (“Dance Off”), like the last album, but there are more good songs here.  In fact, this album is pretty solid from top to bottom.

What makes Macklemore stand out more than anything is that in an era of “third way” politics, where those supposedly on the left have capitulated to the political right, leaving a vacuum of genuinely left perspectives (in other words, the third way faces off with the first way, glossing over the absence of engagement with the second way), he goes in another direction.  He is rather blunt and explicit, but in that he is just a countervailing force to the rise of unconcealed bigotry.

“Growing Up” is an ode to Macklemore’s daughter, reminiscent of The Coup‘s “Change Your Draws.”  “Kevin” takes on the corruption of the pharmaceutical industry and the complicity with the medical industry that over-prescribes medication.  “Let’s Eat” is about body-shaming and is a humorous exploration of the complex relationship with food people have in late capitalism (the Scott Joplin-like piano riff is pitch perfect).  “White Privilege II” ranges from snippets explaining how mothers let their kids listen to Macklemore because he’s “positive” to #blacklivesmatter activism.  All of these are issues marginalized — if not outright facilitated and exacerbated — by mainstream media.

The opener “Light Tunnels” is great.  It is a bunt commentary on Macklemore attending a major music award ceremony.  It is both blunt and critical because he spends much of the song probing the intersection of art and commerce, and making explicit the economics and exploitation built into the system.  As with his debut album, some listeners can’t stand this approach.  Their criticisms tend to be that he is impertinent.  But really, those critics tend to be the desperate lumpenproletariat who see no way forward and harbor delusions that hierarchies of power and oppression will somehow benefit them.  Macklemore is explicitly wondering about a system that is better (more egalitarian) and not based on exploitation — not that he outlines such a system (now that would be a boring song!) but he traces the contours of the present system to show how far removed it is from what he considers a better system.

In short, Macklemore continues trying to shift the locus of debate in hip-hop music.  He continues to question the way the genre and the music industry as a whole seems built on bias and discrimination (against women, the overweight, etc.), and dwells on empires of superficial attention-grabbing.  Liberals absolutely hate this, because they advocate a form of universal domination by capital and Macklemore is questioning the tactics of capital in ways that could be significant.  But, fuck ’em, seriously.  Macklemore & Ryan Lewis are not standing wholly apart from the music industry and it’s demands.  They get their hands dirty in it.  But they also advocate for an independent point of view that is not about just accumulating money and fame in a crass materialistic way.  If it also needs mentioning, there should now be no doubt about Macklemore’s rapping abilities.  He’s spot on here, with impeccable rhythm for his style of essay rapping.  Ryan Lewis also deserves special attention.  He may not be pushing any boundaries, but his melodic backing tracks, which lean heavily on piano and backing vocal harmonies with a sensibility heavily informed by the old boom-bap style, complement and enhance the raps deftly.  This album may have been a commercial flop, compared to the duo’s last album, but it is definitely an artistic triumph.

Bert Jansch – Jack Orion

Jack Orion

Bert JanschJack Orion Transatlantic TRA 143 (1966)


“The Waggoner’s Lad,” with overlaid banjo and guitar starts Jack Orion on a high note, and the album pretty much never lets up.  The album as a whole returns to the emphasis on displays of instrumental virtuosity of Bert Jansch.  There was scarcely a better European guitarist in the 1960s than Jansch.  He and Davy Graham were, in many ways, the European counterparts to American Primitive guitarists like John Fahey, just a wee bit more extroverted.  Probably my favorite Jansch album.

The Cecil Taylor Quartet – Looking Ahead!

Looking Ahead!

The Cecil Taylor QuartetLooking Ahead! Contemporary M 3562 (1959)


Early Cecil Taylor albums occupy an unusual space.  Ignored upon release, fans who came in later after Taylor ramped up the density about four times over frequently find the early sessions beneath them.  That sort of view tends to equate density with quality, or less structure with higher quality.  While Taylor certain has great stuff that is dense and free, it is worth giving due to his excellent work on the early discs too.  Here he plays like Thelonious Monk on steroids, with angular lines that toy with dissonance and have a highly percussive quality.  His melodic and blues sensibilities get a more direct and open airing.  A common critique of these early albums is that the sidemen are not with Taylor, or not willing to go as “far out” as him.  Hogwash.  This band is with Taylor all the way, who frankly isn’t playing “free jazz” here.  But there is nothing wrong with that!  Play this in a blindfold test and someone might think it is the great lost Thelonious Monk album.  What is not to like about that?  Frankly, it took Taylor a long while to fully develop and realize his unique style, and his best “free” albums were not to arrive for a few years — even then Taylor occasionally hid a lack of ideas behind a massive wall of dense chaos.  But enjoy this one too for what it is: adventurous hard bop that goes to the limits of what still has reference points in that tradition.  And Earl Griffith on vibes adds a really nice tone/timbre that complements Taylor’s playing well.  Taylor knew the jazz tradition, and this album is some of the best evidence.