music reviews, fascinating trivia, opinionated commentary
I [az]B0012GMW98[/az] make mix CDs for our drives through the mountains (or wherever we’re driving through.) My daughter, 6, has realised that she can have almost anything she wants on her MP3 player.
And I’ve realised that, when she says at the beginning of every single song “Oh, you have to put this song on my MP3 player this instant!” she’s not just talking. She knows the songs, she loves the songs, she wants the songs.
She may grow up to love music almost as much as I do.
S [az]B003HBM06Q[/az]ince I already own much of what’s on this 4-CD compilation I won’t be buying it (I’ll just get the few Winwood albums I don’t already own) but if you’d like a broad sweeping view of a rare musical wonder, Revolutions is stuffed full of songs you’ve heard forever, or never heard but should have.
It has all of John Barleycorn except Every Mother’s Son; funny to leave off just that one track.
Only a single track from Winwood’s eponymous first solo album (Vacant Chair.) I would have included (also, or instead) Let Me Make Something in Your Life; Steve has this knack for down-to-earth love songs that feel more like real life, and less like ethereal fantasies. (Perhaps I should play this for Best Beloved. Perhaps I should confirm I still have my vinyl copy.)
Over half of Mr. Fantasy shows up; just less than half of Traffic. Hard telling who made the decisions, or why; some fairly obscure stuff is included, some obvious choices like Feelin’ Alright didn’t make it.
Doesn’t really matter, in the end. Just be sure you have as much Winwood around the house as possible, and play it often, and, once in a while, loud.
And, tell your less educated friends. This is a man who has gotten far too little recognition for a stellar body of work.
M [az]B000002J01[/az]ixed media: I love running across the stuff hanging in a gallery where the artist has photos embedded in acrylic with gardening implements painted garish colors and a bucket of dirt with a live plant growing in it. (I made that up; don’t go looking for it.)
Daniel Edlen has created an ebook which even I, an avowed ebook ignorer, couldn’t ignore.
As you’ll note in the sidebar, Daniel paints original works of art on, well, original works of art. Paintings of the artist on their own vinyl album.
Now he’s created a multimedia ebook, with images of his work, his comments on the music, and videos to accompany it all.
And it’s free, because that’s how Daniel is.
If you love music or art or just like to see something you’ve never seen before, this will touch you.
I[az]B0014KD46W[/az]f you’re my age you’ve read about the message ‘Clapton is God’ scrawled on subway walls (ostensibly right under ‘Frodo lives!’)
In an interview the the Cars’ Elliot Easton, they played word association with the names of guitarists. Easton’s response to ‘Clapton’ ? “Is not God.”
At the time, I thought he was wrong. Gutsy, but wrong.
A few nights ago, I changed my mind. Watching Clapton on stage (okay, on TV) with Steve Winwood, I was amazed at how inventive and unexpected Winwood’s solos were, while Clapton played the same solo in every song. Slower, faster, different keys, but essentially the same.
And yesterday, Best Beloved changed CDs in the van, and I realised that on Clapton’s Chronicles album, I only like one of the first six tracks.
No, I’m not tossing my copy of “From the Cradle” or “Disraeli Gears” but I’m also not saving up to see him next time he comes to town.
Unless, of course, he’s playing with Steve Winwood.
F[az]B0019HBXB8[/az]ilm maker (which is quite an understatement, really) Nic Askew graciously pointed out the music credits in his film “The Perilous Journey” which you should go watch right now. I’ll wait.
Back? Great. You’ll need to watch it more than once to really let it sink in. Anyway, the credits pointed me to Stephane Wrembel
In fact, if you’re in New York, would you please go see Stephane for me? I can’t make it to New York right now, but I’d feel better knowing the task was being covered.
Thanks. Let me know how it goes.
Oh; here’s where you can see and hear Stephane Wrembel:
Music tends to be visceral, skipping past our filters, needling its way to the real stuff inside. Continue reading “Standing in the Lonely Light of the Silver Moon”
A[az]B002P31V3U[/az]t the opening guitar riff, I wasn’t sure if this was going to be a good crunchy blues or one of those polished pablum tunes from the radio. Turns out, Hollis Brown’s Show Love
Neat use of two complementary guitars. Every time the opening riff is repeated it feels more fun. Then the song ends with an inverted version of the riff that seems to die out before it was finished; somebody didn’t feel the need to be overly serious about the whole thing (the word ‘fun’ keeps coming to mind about the whole song.)
There’s a keyboard back there somewhere that only gets a few chances to peek out. I especially like the subtle Beatles ref in the chorus. I defy you not to tap your foot to this one.
Mm” border=”0″ align=”left” />[az]B000BF0D9M[/az]y kids introduced me to a whole string of video games about a guy named Mario, but I don’t think that’s who Jesse Cook is talking about. Somehow, Mario Takes a Walk completely possesses me every time I hear it; it’s one of those rare songs where both the live and studio versions I’ve heard punch me right in the solar plexus.
Thumping danceable drums annoy me. Except sometimes. Adding a ‘thump thump thump’ to most music turns me off completely, so I have no explanation for why Cook’s music, which is nearly always flamenco guitar and thump, grabs me like it does.
Every time I hear Mario (or Matisse the Cat, or many others) I want to do a Titanic on the bow of a sailing ship and laugh out loud while I’m dancing. Sure, it’s impossible, but that’s what music is for, to free us for the impossible.
Jesse has a new album, The Rumba Foundation which you can listen to at his website. Like I am right now.
Unpredictability seems to be Neko Case‘s goal. Middle Cyclone is a cohesive package, no worries there, but until the last song rolls by, you cannot know what’s coming next, sometimes even in the same song.
Mockingbird to the Morning is the song that gets stuck in my head; especially the moment in the second verse where she leaps to a note a full octave higher than you expected, then again coming out of the instrumental break.
Yet another song about loss, or found, or confusion. Seems to be a mood I’m in.
Cc” border=”0″ align=”left” />[az]B0014GKAQS[/az]anadians seem to suck me in. I’m a lifelong fan of both Neil Young and Gordon Lightfoot, and continually discover others from the great white north. My latest discovery is Matthew Barber, and Easily Bruised.
There’s a powerful feel of the Jayhawks in Bruised and not a little anguish. Or wistfulness. Or just plain pain, I’m not sure.
Sometimes I’m not sure whether I like songs because they make me feel better or because they allow me to let some of the old pain leak out, leaving room for more worthwhile emotions.
You can hear Easily Bruised at Barber’s website. Maybe you’ll figger it out yourself.