Camarón – La leyenda del tiempo

La leyenda del tiempo

CamarónLa leyenda del tiempo Philips 63 28 255 (1979)


Camarón de la Isla is credited with being one of the key figures in revitalizing and spreading flamenco music in the latter part of the 20th Century.  His voice is more or less perfectly suited to his music: raspy, agile, defiant, emotionally-laden.  La leyenda del tiempo (translation: “The Legend of Time”) is considered one of the key documents of so-called “nuevo flamenco.”  Traditional flamenco is a folk music that uses guitar (acoustic), vocals, and simple percussion from handclaps and snapping fingers, and is a dance music.  It originated in the Andalucía region of southern Spain.  The “nuevo” version incorporated many other sounds and instruments: electric guitar, bass, drum kits.  In other words, it modernized the music by incorporating aspects of other musical styles, most notably rock.  The most modernized tracks here are easy to spot, with synthesizer, electric bass, drums and such — even sitar on the closing “Nana del caballo grande.”  And yet, they blend effortlessly with the traditional style of flamenco.  The guitar playing (mostly by Tomatito) is just as fiery and detailed, the vocals just as impassioned.  It simply has nothing to fear about embracing the modernity all around it.  Recorded just a few years after the death of Generalissimo Franco, during the period of a return to a monarchy and some democratizing reforms in Spain, the timing of this music bridging the old and new is no coincidence — the lyrics of fully half the songs are drawn from Federico García Lorca, a member of the “Generation of ’27” who experimented to new poetic forms and was also a martyr of the anti-Franco Spanish socialists whose works had been banned in Spain for a time (until 1953).  And yet, the album was a flop upon release, and it actually was reported to have angered longtime, traditionalist fans.  As James Kirkup put it in an obituary:

“Flamenco purists deplored his adventurous crossover fusion of flamenco and rock, but they were reluctantly compelled to admit that he was a musical genius who revived the interest of the younger generation in a musical tradition that had been discredited as a symbol of the late dictatorship’s rabid nationalism.”

In spite of controversies he stirred, and the initial lack of success of this album, Camarón remained one of the most famous Spanish performers of his era, and this album has since come to be highly regarded.  A comparison to this approach to music on a conceptual level might be Lucio Battisti‘s Anima latina, which has nothing to do with flamenco, but nonetheless, like nuevo flamenco, takes a kind of insular, provincial European music and incorporates international influences (although El Camarón sticks closer to tradition and virtuoso acoustic performance, and features a proud and resilient attitude in place of Battisti’s highly structural existential pondering).

Leonard Cohen – New Skin for the Old Ceremony

New Skin for the Old Ceremony

Leonard CohenNew Skin for the Old Ceremony Columbia AL 33167 (1974)


Cohen summons an impressive assortment of styles. It is as if he tries them on, proving how versatile his songwriting can be by demonstrating that all the ones that fit.  So take “Lover Lover Lover,” which even concludes with a bit of klezmer clarinet.  Of course, then there is “Chelsea Hotel #2.”  This is a song you can listen to, start over again, and again, and suddenly an hour has gone by listening to just that one song.  It has Cohen’s inimitable sense of intimacy.  Cohen later admitted the song is about Janis Joplin.  Like a lot of Cohen’s best album-length statements, this one is great not because of one or two key songs, or even the production or eclectic styles.  No, what makes the whole album great is Cohen’s brilliant sense of place and social context.  He’s for the underdogs, doing what he can for their cause, a kind of consciousness-raising through song, without losing sight of the tenuous position of underdogs and the tactical challenges they face.  This is epitomized by “There Is a War.”  All said, this is one of Cohen’s better albums.

Leonard Cohen – Ten New Songs

Ten New Songs

Leonard CohenTen New Songs Columbia CK 85953 (2001)


“I fought against the bottle / but I had to do it drunk”

— “That Don’t Make It Junk”

Leonard Cohen, the beautiful loser, has endured as one of the most important lyricists in rock ‘n’ roll history. He has long been a patron of tortured souls. Yet, Cohen is adrift himself. He doesn’t speak from a sturdy pulpit but rather from intermittent places of shelter. Ten New Songs from 2001 was Cohen’s first studio recording since 1992. Acceptance overrides bravura in this glimpse of Leonard Cohen; but as always, his songs present an intelligent view of a complex existence.

The past decades have seen Cohen embark on a spiritual journey that prior to this album included about six years at a Zen retreat (where he took the name Jikan, “the Silent One”). It seems his journey provided at least some resolution. Ten New Songs returns to exploration of the tension of relationships where Cohen still seeks a love he knows he will never find. He has no answers to dispense, but speaks for lack of a better alternative. His voice barely hanging on (it is almost gratuitous to call him a “singer”), he now doles out oddly reassuring commentary from the shadows. In somber tones, Ten New Songs pulls together all the facets of his genius.

The first and last tracks are bright moments and instantly Cohen classics. On “In My Secret Life,” he grapples with a realization that his only actions lie in dreams. Cohen’s quest for truth yields to a hope for any understanding (as on “That Don’t Make It Junk”). His misery collects inside. He tries to make sense of the infinite textures of love and peace. Cohen’s spirituality is still alive in the simple prayers of “The Land of Plenty.” His words do provide, even if only for a moment, unthinkable possibility.

Sharon Robinson, who first worked with Cohen on his 1979 tour, performs the accompaniments almost entirely herself and co-wrote all the songs. She makes an opportune ally in these battles with pain and longing by tempering the fine line between Cohen’s soul and his gravelly monotone. The album cover illustrates, with both heads cocked to their right, the alignment of their thinking. “Alexandra Leaving” find the two in their finest form, singing a classic Cohen tale of fleeting love. Hopefully, Cohen could get by without a collaborator, which may show his continuing desire to utilize Robinson’s many contributions. Perhaps an older — and even wiser — Cohen seeks a compromise.

Leonard Cohen, with Sharon Robinson, has modestly made another album of solemnly dark beauty. His wretched existence continues to expand a legacy of brilliant works. Ten New Songs is a great collection of songs by any standard.

Junior Wells – Hoodoo Man Blues

Hoodoo Man Blues

Junior Wells’ Chicago Blues BandHoodoo Man Blues Delmark DL-612 (1965)


In conversations about the best electric Chicago blues albums, Junior Wells’ Hoodoo Man Blues is bound to come up.  Sometimes only Magic Sam‘s West Side Soul also contends for that title.  The relatively small number of contenders is partly because blues music as a genre was never particularly successful in the full-length album format.  During the genre’s numerous peaks, singles were more common.  While maybe a couple of songs here are just so-so (“Hound Dog”), most of this is absolutely spot on.  This manages to maintain a consistent mood throughout while still changing up the tempo and attack just enough to keep it interesting — like the way the snappy opener “Snatch It Back and Hold It” gives way to the slow, smoldering follow-up “Ships on the Ocean.”  Buddy Guy is on guitar, and he gives this a sleek, urban sound that recognizes the role that rock music was playing in supplanting the old prewar style of acoustic blues, particularly in the way he occasionally plays choppy riffs.  Wells is in great voice.  He is a harmonica player, but his sing-speak vocals come first.  The recordings are produced in a smooth and warm way that give this a snap and crispness, while still keeping a chugging bottom end with the bass and drums prominent.  It gives so many of the songs a kind of almost minimalist space that is a key to keeping the mood going.  That mood is one of sly sophistication.  Kind of like the way hip-hop music in the mid/late 1990s developed an emphasis on the “east coast mastermind” persona, Wells goes for some kind of forerunner one (timed just after the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the legal end of the Jim Crow era) that emphasizes more of a lothario role, or something that approaches a cunning, “schemer” persona.  Whatever it is precisely, he brings across a kind of intimate, feisty independence that is the epitome of charismatic “coolness.”  This is one of the best electric blues albums around.

Magic Sam Blues Band – West Side Soul

West Side Soul

Magic Sam Blues BandWest Side Soul Delmark DS-615 (1968)


Right off with “That’s All I Need,” Magic Sam establishes that the listener is in for something very special. His soulful voice trembles with vibrato and charms you into his world. The first track is a transcendent blues moment. Not even the rest of the album duplicates those opening lines. Coming in behind the metallic reverb of the guitar, his hope and longing are never fully resolved in song. Magic Sam may have the blues, but he pushes everything back if just for a few minutes.

A legend of electric blues, Magic Sam died tragically young. Before he checked out, he left a legacy that has not been forgotten. He injected a raw and punchy version of the dynamic singing style of a soul (or gospel) singer plus garage-y guitar playing with a faint hint of psychedelia into the electric blues lexicon, while preserving a rhythmic style style reminiscent of acoustic blues of the 1930s and 40s that frequently turns to boogie-woogie.  It strikes the perfect balance between delta roots and smooth Chicago styles, with an openness to new developments from genres outside just the blues.  The sound jumps from laid-back strumming to cutting solos. Vocals push and prod the band.  Guitars pull the beat along at a brisk pace, always responsive to the guiding of Sam’s vocals.

In a unique way, West Side Soul is upbeat and redemptive — electrifying.  While covering all the customary blues elements, Magic Sam goes further to lift listeners off the ground.  There is always the hanging question of how his stories end, but Magic Sam likes to say there probably is a happy one.

Magic Sam begs listeners to struggle alongside him through his tragic world. The themes are easy to relate to. Heartbreak is not a foreign concept. “I Found A New Love” and “All of Your Love” are not pillars of confidence. Despite his shaky emotions, Magic Sam sets out for something better. West Side Soul is a rare glimpse into a personal transformation. Hesitation weighs against possibility in an eternal conflict.

Songs overflow with energy. “I Don’t Want No Woman” is a frustrated rocker. Magic Sam pleads as much with himself as his woman. The assertion of semi-independence is more a desire to explore for while longer. On Robert Johnson’s “Sweet Home Chicago” the band stretches out in a sly groove. The song now reflects a permanent home rather than a mythical paradise. Mighty Joe Young strides confidently on guitar. Odie Payne is a fury on drums. Stockholm Slim on piano and Earnest Johnson on bass round out this killer band (with Mack Thompson and Odie Payne III featured on three tracks).

West Side Soul is a highly revered blues album. It is also a perfect introduction to electric blues for anyone interested in discovering postwar blues.  Not bad for a debut at all.

Red Hot Chili Peppers – Blood Sugar Sex Magik

Blood Sugar Sex Magik

Red Hot Chili PeppersBlood Sugar Sex Magik Warner Bros. 07599-26681-2-5 (1991)


At the time, I certainly knew about the Chili Peppers.  I probably liked them a little, but didn’t really pay any particular attention.  My brother had What Hits!? and The Uplift Mofo Party Plan.  Most of my friends had Blood Sugar Sex Magik I recall.  And you heard the singles everywhere — the radio, MTV, other people’s stereos.  For the most part, I forgot about them, and had no interest in the later stuff.  So twenty years out, amidst a random visit back to some early 1990s music, I came back to this album.  Well, it sounds better than I remember.  The formula is pretty simple but still effective.  It’s built on the kind of funk rock that Hendrix was doing with “Dolly Dagger,” informed by 70s funk too (thankfully omitting any 80s funk influence), with an awareness of punk and hip-hop hinted at in the music.  Anthony Kiedis tends to stay within his vocal abilities, and by half rapping most of the time his street-wise delivery overcomes the limitations of the idiocy of the lyrics.  But the band’s secret weapon is without a doubt guitarist John Frusciante.  Prior to becoming a drug casualty (or his subsequent recovery), he just fills out the band’s sound with perfectly funky yet razor sharp solos.  His tone is bolstered by a kind of flange or other effect that rolls his guitar tone around in every riff while still sporting a full sound with crisp edges.  The band can do seemingly anything it wants behind his guitar.

So this album is mostly head-thumping, fun, pounding rock, with just a few changes of pace like the mellow hit “Under the Bridge” to prevent monotony.  I wouldn’t have guessed this would have aged as well as it has.  Thank Frusciante for that.

Miles Davis – Dark Magus

Dark Magus

Miles DavisDark Magus CBS/Sony 40AP741-2 (1977)


Dark Magus is another great entry into the series of live recordings from Miles’ 1970-75 period.  This particular one comes from a Carnegie Hall concert on March 29, 1974.  It’s an excellent performance, churning out an energized voodoo funk jazz that could only come from Miles.  The band had enough control and skill at this point to produce a sound live that couldn’t really be improved on in the studio, no matter how many effects and cut-ups were employed.  There are slightly better recordings from the same period available, but this one is still an excellent album with a lot to offer.  I actually consider it one of my favorites from the period. I wish there were dozens more like it!  This is some OUT shit.

Lou Reed – Transformer

Transformer

Lou ReedTransformer RCA Victor AFL1-4807 (1972)


One of Reed’s best-known albums.  And really it is one of his finest.  But you know, I think some of the “standout” tracks on this album I find the least interesting.  It’s the “filler” like “Hangin’ ‘Round” and “Goodnight Ladies” that makes this one interesting to me.  One of my favorite Lou Reed lines is from “Hangin’ ‘Round”: you’re still doing things that I gave up years ago.

Mal Waldron & Steve Lacy – Live at Dreher, Paris 1981

Live at Dreher, Paris 1981

Mal Waldron & Steve LacyLive at Dreher, Paris 1981 HatHut hatOLOGY 4-596 (2003)


This collection of two archival live recordings — Live at Dreher Paris 1981: Round Midnight, Vol. 1 and Live at Dreher Paris 1981: The Peak, Vol. 2 (both originally released in 1996) — features two long-time collaborators engaged in a great, public musical conversation.  The album is just Lacy and Waldron, playing some originals but mostly Thelonious Monk tunes.  The mood is a supportive one.  Each performer gets some time out front, or by himself, with plenty of collaborative passages as well.  Waldron plays with a blues tonality but also with blocks of repetitive riffs that lend a subtly hypnotic and thoroughly modern edge (the liner notes call this a hypnotic tension & release quality), which is confirmed by playing with sustain just enough to soften the rhythmic attack on his piano but never so much as to devolve into wispy sentimentality.  Lacy plays lyrically and brightly when he wants to, then at times with tangly solos that sometimes reach for “extended technique” honks and screeches, always maintaining a humility that belies the virtuoso technique.  While Waldron tends to synthesize disparate stylistic approaches, Lacy tends to alternate between them.  Both players are clearly “inside” the Monk songs, enough that these versions sound nothing like they way Monk recorded them yet also evidence tremendous admiration — the kind that posits true admiration as adding something to the songs and growing them into unique performances rather than timidly deferential museum piece recreations.  It is also music that finds few limits, pushing beyond the confines of formal structure while also making full and deft use of harmonic and rhythmic structure to develop themes that are long and deep.  If these recordings leave any particular impression, it is of two familiar collaborators who anticipated playing mostly Monk songs, and doing so in a mutually advantageous way, but with few if any preconceived ideas about how they would musically implement their performances.  So the listener gets to experience the performers offering up points and counterpoints, building up a rapport, all with full awareness of the audience for their performances.  It is kind of a more intellectual and cerebral version of the same kind of feeling that drives the “feel good” vibes of everything from rock “jam band” music to reggae…you name it.