Thursday, December 06, 2018

Record Roundup: Cornucopia Of Folk And Americana


I hate to feel that I’m keeping music from people, so before I start my Best Of 2018 series, here are quick takes on some excellent albums in the realms of folk and Americana. I think you’ll find some of them perfect for wintry nesting as the sun sets early and snow brushes the window panes. Others may be good for the family gatherings that can define this time of year.

Raoul Vignal - Oak Leaf It’s rare that you hear an album as assured and accomplished from a well-known artist. But when someone flying under the radar presents such an exquisite piece of work as Oak Leaf, it feels even more astonishing. On this second album by the French singer-songwriter, finger-picked guitars weave a spell alongside occasional shimmering vibes or a gentle sax. Drums tick away minimally in the background. Over it all is Vignal’s hushed voice delivering (in English) introspective confessions and musings. I see a danger of Vignal becoming a “musician’s musician” or a “best-kept secret.” It's up to you not to let that happen.

Olivia Chaney - Shelter Both the production (by Thomas Bartlett) and Chaney’s voice are so polished that I was at first turned off by this, her second album. But then it dawned on me that there was a flood of emotion being held back by a levee of glassy perfection. The key to this is her stunning version of O Solitude, a 300 year-old song by Henry Purcell. The feeling in it is baked into the lyrics and Purcell’s haunting melody, which is the standard she’s set for her own songs. Her lofty ambition is more than repaid, making for a special listening experience. I also wouldn’t complain if her next album was entirely Purcell, John Dowland and other centuries-old British luminaries. 

Ocean Music - Jorge Marco Turino, Beach Captain, Etc. I’ve written before about the wondrous music of Richard Aufrichtig, which he usually puts out as Ocean Music. While he has been fairly prolific in 2018, I have it on good authority that the best is yet to come. The first of these is a five song EP of originals, played solo with either piano or acoustic guitar. It’s a beautiful recording and his expansive songs are easy to get lost in. Beach Captain is mostly covers, some old, like Bird On A Wire, and some newer like Joanna Newsom’s Clam Crab Cockle Cowrie. He always goes deep, making them his own, no more so than in a mournful take on Someday by The Strokes. We’ve also been graced with shimmering, powerful version of Aufrichtig’s Ghost Song with a full band, the closest any recording has yet come to the Ocean Music live experience. Finally, we have two songs from a recent concert at Baby’s All Right - I was there so you can trust me when I say this is just a hint of how great it was. But it’s par for the course for Aufrichtig to drop hints; here’s hoping we get the full story in 2019. 

Phil Cook - People Are My Drug Spending time with Cook’s music is like feeling the sun on your face after a week of rain. This is especially true in concert, as a recent show at Bowery Ballroom (with Andy Jenkins opening!) proved yet again. He draws you in with his smile and seals the deal with his killer guitar and sweet voice. Those last two elements are present on this follow-up to 2015’s  Southland Mission, as well as an increased interest in gospel fervor. That means the album is plenty inspiring, even if the songwriting is a little less sharp. My only other quibble has to do with the inclusion of Amelia Meath of Sylvan Esso on several songs - but that’s just because I don’t really like her voice or her band. I guess the divine Alexandra Sauser-Monnig wasn't available! If you feel differently, you will likely be thrilled with her contributions here. Either way, it’s a fine album and if you get a chance to see Cook on stage, don’t hesitate!

The Dead Tongues - Unsung Passage I first caught wind of Ryan Gustafson, who performs under this name, when he opened for and played with Phil Cook at Rough Trade. He quickly lodged in my mind as a master of all things stringed, as well as a fine singer and songwriter deep in the American vein. Now we have his most assured record yet, weaving a spell through a variety of country and folk-tinged textures and settings. To my ears he’s most effective when he pushes it furthest, as on the haunting Ebb And Flow or My Other, which, with its flutes and strings, is the first song that’s reminded me of Nico’s magisterial Chelsea Girl since I first heard that record. It’s fantastic, easily one of the most gorgeous songs of the year. But this whole record deserves your attention. If your give it that, you will likely become a fan of The Dead Tongues. 

John Calvin Abney - Coyote Go take a look at issue #116 of Off Your Radar for a kaleidoscopic look at Abney’s last album, Far Cries And Close Calls. Done? Good. Now, believe me when I say this one is even better. The production alone is worthy of note, burnished and warm, like an old oak table - and the songs are just as solid. Abney’s voice has a touch of Wings-era McCartney and he’s learned a few songwriting lessons from the former Fab as well. These aren't annoying earworms, though, but rather songs that employ sophisticated and unexpected chord changes in a relaxed and naturalistic fashion. This makes for songs that are memorable but also nourishing, repaying repeat and close listening. If Coyote doesn’t significantly expand Abney’s audience, I don’t know what will. 

Anna St. Louis - If Only There Was A River Every once in a while something in my Spotify Discover Weekly playlist will floor me, causing me to stop what I’m doing and make sure to find out all the W’s: who, what, when. Last week it was a song from St. Louis’s previous album, First Songs, something with hypnotic fingerpicking, beautiful singing and a shapely melody. That came out in 2017 and just as I was cursing Spotify and the world for keeping it from me, I noticed she had a new album out. This is a more fully produced affair, but thankfully Kyle Thomas and Kevin Morby have nurtured St. Louis’s talents rather than blanketing them in their own ideas. The songs are exquisite enough on their own - the task is not to ruin them and at that Morby and Thomas more than succeed. Numerophiles who own Catherine Howe's What A Beautiful Place may find a point of reference. This is an album people will be talking about - don’t wait around for an algorithm to deliver it to you.

Billy Joseph & The Army Of Love - You Know Which Way To Go This is my first cousin, OK, but that's not the only reason I've had his latest record on repeat. This is just an excellent collection of soulful rock & folk - and sometimes just plain soul in the Al Green and Robert Cray stylings of Second Time Around. The production is expansive and well-tailored to every song, including a very original take on Suspicious Minds. Stinging guitar leads (either by Nick Kirgo or Billy himself) are lavished on the album with an almost gustatory pleasure and the horns on Holiday Song are sublime. The lyrics can cut to the quick, as on that last song, as honest a depiction of holiday loneliness as has ever been written. "Bing Crosby's on the TV set, I can see him through the window of a furniture store," Billy sings in a line worthy of a scene from a Douglas Sirk classic - just one of the gems to be found on this impressive record. If you live in L.A., he's probably playing somewhere tonight so go out and see him do his thing.

Jeff Tweedy - Warm For the last few years (maybe since the excellent Sukierae) it’s been a bit of a toss up whether or not a Tweedy product is going to truly touch me or just be another expression of consummate competence to be admired and put away. While it’s early days yet with Warm, which is his first true solo album in a 25-year career, I’m pleased to report that I believe this is one of the former. As always, the songs are well-written, but the sense of intimacy, the feeling of someone hoping their hard-won truths will help get you through, is welcome. The musical settings are spare, sensitive - listen to the drumming on From Far Away - and lived-in, harkening back to John Wesley Harding or Plastic Ono Band. Tweedy’s mastery of the pithy lyric is also on full display, using a few words to carry heavy freight, like the chorus of the title track: “I don't believe in Heaven/I keep some heat inside/Like a red brick in the summer/Warm when the sun has died.” There’s enough wisdom on Warm to fill a book - and Tweedy has one of those, too! Listen, read, and and celebrate one of our master artists hitting a new peak. 

Don’t these albums sound like they would be fodder for a great playlist? Gotcha covered (except for Oak Leaf)! See below or click here. What else would you add?





Saturday, November 17, 2018

Focus On: Contemporary Classical



I often get the question, “How do you keep up with new music?” My answer is usually a detailed description of the various playlists I maintain, the different newsletters, websites, Facebook pages and magazines I monitor, the emails I get from publicists and labels, the Friend Feed on Spotify, etc. But the real answer should be brief: Barely. So, with the year-end looming, here’s a quick rundown of some recent albums and an extraordinary concert in the realm of contemporary classical. I've also included information on three concerts I strongly recommend finding time to attend.

Dan Lippel - "...through which the past shines...": Works by Nils Vigeland and Reiko Füting A truism in the nonprofit world is that "people give to people," meaning that donors are more likely to support an organization when they are asked personally, usually by someone to whom they have a connection. But people also listen to people and I think one of the reasons it's taken me so long to write about this excellent album is that it has a bit of an identity crisis. WHO will we be hearing from and WHAT will they be playing? The title is a mouthful, for one thing. If I were marketing the album, I might have titled it Recent Guitar Masterpieces (admittedly cheesy!) so curious listeners might have at least some idea of the wonders that lie within. I also would have reserved the largest font on the cover for the name Dan Lippel, for it is his virtuosic and deeply musical guitar playing that defines the experience of listening to the album. Fortunately, you have me to explain it all to you.

What we have here are seven pieces, five of them world-premiere recordings, of exquisite solo and chamber music focusing on the acoustic guitar. If you are a fan of the instrument, you need read no more than that before laying cold hard cash down for this record. Four of the pieces are by Nils Vigeland, an American composer, performer and teacher who seems to have a true sensitivity for the guitar. His La Folia Variants from 1996 was recorded over a decade ago by Lippel and included on his album Resonances. Its three lovely, Renaissance-inspired movements should be standard practice at guitar recitals worldwide. Vigeland's Two Variations, from 1990, bookends the album, instilling a sense of absolute peace as you begin and end your journey. The title track, from 2017 and the most recent work here, is also the longest. On it, Lippel is joined by Vigeland on piano and John Popham, of Either/Or and Longleash, on cello, and its sparkling interactions make a stunning case for these forces working together. The final work by Vigeland on the album is Quodlibet from 2011, three movements for guitar and cello based on The Beatles' Hey Jude and Good Day Sunshine, which  avoids feeling like a pastiche thanks to the composer's structural skills and depth of invention.

Reiko Füting is a German-born composer and educator who studied around the world, including with Vigeland. His wand-uhr: infinite shadows (2013/16) takes inspiration from a poem by Joseph von Eichendorff but my ears picked out sonorities and techniques that reminded me of Davy Graham's jazz-inspired folk guitar solos. It's even easy to imagine Jimmy Page interpolating some of this into his Black Mountain Side, were he to grace a stage with his presence ever again. Füting's Red Wall (2006), uses dissonance and a broad dynamic range in tribute to the natural beauty of The Alps. Füting's arrangement of the traditional Jewish song Hine ma Tov is also included, using an almost Cubist approach to deconstruct the familiar melody. A digital-only bonus track contains three further variations by Vigeland, a young Icelandic composer named Halidór Smárason, and Lippel himself, a fine dessert after the sonic feast of the album proper. Along with Duo Noire's Night Triptych, this is the best classical guitar album of 2018. Maybe that should have been the title!

Nordic Affect - He(a)r My love for this Icelandic chamber ensemble is well documented (here and here, for starters!) so it pains me slightly to have even a minor quibble about their new album. But the fact is that, no matter how many times I tried, I could not accommodate the title piece by Halla Steinunn Stefánsdóttir. Made up of spoken word soundscapes, its seven parts interspersed throughout the album, I found it only interrupted the mood rather than added to it. So I made a playlist with the other six works, an easy fix that revealed yet another classic album from the quartet.

Maria Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir bookends my version of the album with Spirals and Loom, the latter of which I saw performed live last year with a beautiful abstract video component by Dodda Maggy. Even without the visuals, it is a meditative piece, its long, interweaving notes inviting your breathing to...slow...down. Spirals is a wonderfully sleek and brooding affair that grows lusher as it continues, with electronic elements seemingly designed to unsettle. The way Mirjam Tally's Warm life at the foot of the iceberg opens with a hammered chord on Gudrún Ôskarsdóttir's harpsichord will certainly give you a start and leads to what feels like a competition for sonic resources among the three strings and the keyboard - thrilling.

All the excitement is the perfect introduction for two pieces by the great Anna Thorvaldsdottir, one of the most significant composers of our time. Reflections (2016) conjures up some of the loneliness of the buzzsaw whine of a small aircraft flying over a forest and gradually accumulates drama, pulling you surely along its narrative thread. Impressions was written for Ôskarsdóttir and works both as an haunting exploration of light and shade and showcase for how her technique pushes the harpsichord into new areas. Finally we have Point of Departure by Hildur Guônadóttir, Nordic Affect's cellist, another piece they played in concert. This grave and hymnal work has the musicians singing long notes to accompany their instruments, a reminder of both music's origins in the human body and the symbiotic relationship between artists and their tools of expression.

By all means listen first to He(a)r as Nordic Affect intended; it's possible that you will find the dialogues an enhancement. There's no doubt that some of the thoughts, including quotes from the composer, Roni Horn, Pauline Oliveros and others, are fascinating: "Each totemic ancestor, while traveling through the country, was thought to have scattered a trail of words and musical notes along the lines of his footprints." But if you feel the way I do, don't turn away from the rest of the album, which is truly exquisite.

Du Yun's Stories




Any concert that begins with flute superstar Claire Chase barely visible and summoning the spirits with a bass flute and her voice is already a success. And what followed at Du Yun’s Composer Portrait (with the International Contemporary Ensemble) at the Miller Theater more than lived up to that auspicious start. Chase was playing the finale from An Empty Garlic (2014), an incantatory piece exploring bereavement with compassion and depth (see the complete premiere here), but she was not alone on stage. In a stunning reinvention of the retrospective concert, all 12 players for the first five pieces were placed just so on the darkened stage, ready to perform their piece at their own individual spots, what Du Yun called LEGOs. 

The richly immersive lighting by Nicholas Houfek only increased the sense of seamlessness as the pieces went by with no applause in between. The second LEGO was occupied by Rebekah Heller (bassoon) and Ryan Muncy (saxophones) playing a mashup of Ixtab, 10 PM (2013) and Dinosaur Scar (1999), the pieces combining to seem even more like a free jazz freakout than they do when played on their own. Heller, whose technique is jaw-dropping, had some electronics going as well and vocalized a little along with her instrument. Her and Muncy's grasp of extended techniques made all the clicking and breathy sounds an organic part of their instruments.  

Just as my mind was about to lose the thread, David Bowlin picked it up, playing the ancient-to-modern Under a tree, an udātta (2016) on his violin. It seemed as if the bending, keening notes were coming directly from his soul. Du Yun, whose soul created it, was slowly revealed to be sitting on her own LEGO, in a posture of careful listening. When Bowlin finished, the audience remained in stunned silence as Du Yun stood, her fantastic costume now fully visible, and began Zinc Oxide (2010), a duo with cellist Katinka Kleijn. This had the two of them reciting a brief surreal narrative that sounded like a memoir or a nightmare while ramping up the intensity with Kleijn's cello and Du Yun's "tree trunk," what looked like a small log with strings and a guitar pickup that she played with a bow. 

Between the poses she struck and the delectable distortions of the sounds she made it occurred to me that Du Yun is a post-punk rebel masquerading as Pulitzer-Prize-winning classical composer. That impression wasn't dissipated in the least by the following performance of Air Glow (2006/2018), the newest piece on Du Yun's instant classic Dinosaur Scar, with the five brass players stepping up to their LEGOs from their seats, and Dan Lippel (yes, him again!) sitting alongside them to play the moody guitar and bass parts. It was no less impressive than it is on the record. When the first half was over all I could think was: this show should go on the road!

After a brief intermission, we were treated to a warm and wise discussion between Du Yun and Heller, almost like eavesdropping on old friends, and two pieces for larger ensembles presented in a more conventional, if completely excellent, fashion. Vicissitudes No. 1 (2002) almost felt like  a series of simultaneous solos, with Joshua Rubin seeming to levitate as he unfurled his clarinet part and percussionist Nathan Davis throwing down like John Bonham with head-nodding authority. Then Lippel entered stage right and burned the place down with the steel string guitar solo featured on Dinosaur Scar. He really can do it all! Impeccable Quake (2014) closed the show with the entire ensemble giving it everything they had. I would have put Lippel's guitar higher in the mix so that it cut through the way it does on Dinosaur Scar, but it was still a great performance. Like the entire evening it served to solidify Du Yun's strengths and forced the imagination to consider all the places she can go from here.

Choral Cascade: I can't remember a year when we've had such an embarrassment of vocal riches as we've had in 2018. Impermanence, from Boston's all-female Lorelei Ensemble, spans 800 years of music, including the Codex Calixtinus from the 12th Century and Peter Gilbert's Tsukimi from 2013. In between we have some 15th Century music by DuFay and from the anonymous Turin Codex - three of those pieces are recorded here for the first time - and excerpts from Toru Takemitsu's Windhorse from the 60's. The end result is sublime, as is the recording from Sono Luminus. Notus, a 40-year-old student ensemble from Bloomington, IL, has finally released its first album, Of Radiance And Refraction. Well worth the wait, it is a fascinating assemblage of five world premiere choral works by composers with whom I was completely unfamiliar, including Dominic Diorio, whose Stravinsky Refracted (2015) riffs on Amy Lowell's poem about Stravinsky's Trois pièces pour quatuor á cordes in phantasmagoric fashion. The Zora String Quartet is here to play the original string quartet piece so you know to what Lowell was responding - a wise choice. Diorio also leads Notus and should be commended for bringing polish and passion to the student performances. All the works are of more than passing interest, with John Gibson's In Flight (2015) for chorus and electronics especially substantial. Finally, we have Zealot Canticles by The Crossing, which includes only the title piece by Lansing McLoskey - another name new to me - which is subtitled "An oratorio for tolerance." Written for clarinet, string quartet, and 24-voice choir, the libretto is drawn from 12 Canticles for Zealots, which uses poetry to investigate the minds of fanatics, and other writings by Nobel-Prize-winning Nigerian writer Wole Soyinka. It's dark stuff, but McLoskey's melodic expansiveness and the always extraordinary work of The Crossing, led by Donald Nally, make for a highly absorbing listen.

Chamber Catch-Up: I hesitate to call Peter Garland's The Landscape Scrolls "chamber music," but in this context it will have to do. It could also be filed under "ambient" or "new age" but it doesn't quite fit there either. The album-length work, played to a fare-thee-well by percussionist John Lane, who also commissioned the work, takes us through the cycle of a day by exploring the possibilities of instrumental groupings that are "timbrally monochromatic." My favorite is Part 3: After Dark, which is played on three triangles and creates extraordinary resonances. Sample the piece in this artful trailer for the album. Ken Thomson, the composer and reed player for Bang On A Can and other groups, gave us a modern classic in Restless for cello and piano in 2016. This year, we have something entirely different in Sextet, written for a small ensemble that looks a hell of a lot like a jazz band. The music within is fully composed, however, and harks back to some of the west coast sounds of Shorty Rogers, Jimmy Giuffre, etc. The album begins with a Ligeti piece which harmonically informs the rest of the album the way Thelonious Monk took off from the spiritual Abide With Me on his classic album Monk's Music. This is bright, busy and brainy stuff, played with intensity and swing, and you can't help but be carried along by the sound of one of our most brilliant musical minds following his muse. If you find yourself smiling too broadly after Thomson's cacophony has died down, I give you Michael Hersch's Images From A Closed Ward, played with phenomenal concentration by the FLUX Quartet. Bleak, slow, inexorable and breathtaking, this hour-long piece is a major new contribution to the string quartet repertoire and should put Hersch firmly on your radar.


Upcoming Concerts


Tuesday, November 20th, 6:00 PM - Isabel Lepanto Gleicher: Pop Up Concert, in which the flutist will perform a world premiere by Barry Sharp, music by 12th Century mystic Hildegard von Bingen, and everything in between (Miller Theater, 2960 Broadway at 116th St., NYC) Free

Friday, November 30th, 8:00 PM - Talea Ensemble: Soper + Adamcyk, featuring Kate Soper's Voices from the Killing Jar (2012), sung by Lucy Dhegrae, and a world premiere from David Adamcyk (America's Society, 680 Park Ave. at 68th St., NYC) Free with RSVP

Saturday, December 1st, 8:00 PM - Hotel Elefant: Letters That You Will Not Get, featuring a world premiere by Kirsten Volness and special guests Opera Cowgirls (Church of the Intercession, 550 W 155th St., NYC) $20 at the door

Full disclosure: I'm on the board of both Talea Ensemble and Hotel Elefant, but I would be ride-or-die for both groups either way!

Tracks from the albums mentioned above and so many more from this amazing year can be found in this playlist. As always, tell me what's grabbing YOU. Also, if you like the anthology format of this post, let me know.

You may also enjoy:
Three Portraits: Cheung-Trapani-Du Yun
Record Roundup: Avant Chamber And Orchestral
Record Roundup: Electro-Acoustic Explorations
Best Of 2017: Classical
Record Roundup: On The Cutting Edge
A Nordic Night At National Sawdust
Collapsing Into Nordic Affect's Raindamage
Best Of 2016: Classical
Record Roundup: Composed, Commemorated And Beyond
Record Roundup: Classical Composure

Friday, October 26, 2018

Record Roundup: Forms Of Escape


Here are five recent albums from a variety of geographic and generic origins that all have the uncanny ability to transform a hostile or indifferent reality into an oasis for my mind. In these times of daily outrage, I’ve been especially grateful to their creators for the opportunity to escape these musical gifts have provided. 

Domenico Lancellotti - The Good Is A Big God At least since the emergence of bossa nova in the early 60s, Brazil has had a well-earned reputation for delivering musical escapism. One feature many forms of Brazilian music have in common is “saudade,” a Portuguese word with no English equivalent that has been described as “the presence of absence,” a deep melancholy for lost happiness, but one which finds pleasure in the memories nonetheless. Lancellotti, whose last album, the excellent Cine Privé, was released solely under his first name in 2012, is an expert in saudade, bringing a wistful sweetness to all of his songs. 

Cine Privé was notable for combining that Brazilian sensibility with an indie-rock feel, assisted by American musicians like Wilco guitarist Nels Cline. On The Good Is A Big God Lancellotti puts his deep engagement with 60 years of Brazilian music on display, assaying styles from samba to bossa to tropicalia, the late-60’s movement that added a witty psychedelia into the mix. But there’s nothing self-consciously retro going on here as everything from the charming flutes on A Alma Do Vento (The Soul Of The wind) to the squealing synths of Aracne feels as natural as breathing. Lancellotti and his producer Sean O'Hagen also know how effective simplicity can be, as on Logo, which for most of its length is just him and 12-string acoustic guitar, gently adding a drum machine and a burbling keyboard as it goes on. 

The last song, Terra, is an instrumental showcasing some gorgeous harp playing, the perfect way to reflect on what’s come before. You may find yourself sighing deeply, reveling in the saudade, the bittersweet absence of all the beautiful sounds on this glorious record. The best part? If you find the darkness returning too quickly, you can just play it again. 

Dubstar - One This band, now a duo of Sarah Blackwood (vocals) and Chris Wilkie (guitar), specializes in a very British, very refined version of saudade, where regrets, missed connections and the experience of lost love fuel their best songs. On One, their first album in 18 years, they manage to almost hit the heights of their first two, Disgraceful (1995) and Goodbye (1997), with instantly memorable pop tunes led by Blackwood’s diamond-cut soprano. Produced by Youth, who’s having a banner year between this, his work on Hollie Cook’s Vessel Of Love, and Killing Joke’s 40th Anniversary tour, the sound is crisp and clean, keeping the focus on the songs. The occasional grit of Wilkie’s guitar adds some welcome imperfections to the glossy surface. 

Besides the occasional clunky lyric, Dubstar only really stumbles when they aim for unalloyed happiness, as on I Hold Your Heart, which sounds cheap and tinny, like the theme for a failed sitcom. But on songs like Love Comes Late, Love Gathers, You Were Never In Love, et al, they manage to breathe life into the hoariest of forms, the melancholy love song. John Dowland, who basically invented the form during the English Renaissance, would surely give a nod of approval, as will fans of The Clientele, Saint Etienne and Belle & Sebastian. Even those who settle for the committee-constructed fripperies of today’s Top 40 will find a more nourishing, yet no less lighthearted, brand of escapism here. It would be disgraceful if you didn’t give Dubstar a try. 

Mutual Benefit - Thunder Follows The Light It suddenly occurred to me while listening to this, Jordan Lee’s richest, most musically accomplished album yet, that his vision of Americana - and perhaps America - is so pure and warmly emotive that it enters the realm of immersive fantasy. You almost expect to hear the prairie sound effects of the Westward Expansion underlying the sparkling naturalism of the instrumentation. That doesn’t mean there is anything insincere about what he’s doing - the exact opposite, in fact. Lee is a believer, like Aaron Copland was a believer. 

Song titles like New History, No Dominion, and Waves, Breaking even seem to hint at the making of this great country, conveying a sense of optimism that is remarkable considering our current predicament. The images of nature that thread through the lyrics (From Shedding Skin:“Diamond scales upon a rotted log/Cicadas singing from a mountaintop//Blossoms growing on a dogwood tree/Leave behind what you used to be”) might lull you into thinking this is not a political album - and you don’t have to experience it as such - but Lee is definitely concerned about the extremities climate change may force us to undergo. 

By providing such a powerful vision of what we had, what we have, and what we can lose, Lee’s statement is far more powerful than any harangue. Most importantly, the musical experience of listening to Thunder Follows The Light is both lovely and substantive enough to be one you will want to repeat often and share with others. Could there be any better way of spreading your message?

P.S. Seeing Mutual Benefit live is a singular experience - catch them at the Park Church Co-Op on December 8th. I already have my tickets.

Arp - Zebra Music is really the only drug I have used consistently over my whole life, and for adolescent anxiety after the social tumult of a day in high school there was no better prescription than In A Silent Way by Miles Davis. Eno albums like Fourth World Vol. 1 with Jon Hassell or Ambient 2: The Plateaux Of Mirror with Harold Budd worked as well. Zebra, Arp’s fifth full-length is one of the few records since then to hit those same calming, meditative zones, where everything seems to fall in place around you. 

The vocabulary Alexis Georgopoulos, who records and performs as Arp, employs on Zebra seems customized for my own bliss: lazy vibraphones, fat analog synths, laconic drums, warm double bass, sparkling Fender Rhodes...sheer heaven. Try Nzuku, in which synths talk in delightful fragments over a vibe pattern, soon joined by an hypnotic bass line and drums that almost subliminally nudge things along. A squirrelly synth takes a brief solo, hinting at dominance before falling back into the opiated surroundings. This is music with umami and you will want to savor every sonic morsel, turning them over in your auditory cortex for maximum flavor. I’ve had my eye on Arp for a while and he’s always been at least interesting. But it’s on Zebra - insert hoofbeats joke  here - where he delivers on his promise. 

Gecko Turner - Soniquete: The Sensational Sound Of Gecko Turner If you’re a regular reader of AnEarful I would hope that the name Gecko Turner is at least familiar if not a regular part of your musical diet. His combination of seemingly every rhythm from funk, reggae, and all forms of Latin music added to sweet and sad songs has made him one of the most reliable purveyors of pleasure in the 21st Century. In case you’re new here, however, this is the perfect time to catch up with Turner thanks to this career retrospective featuring one new song and a selection from his four prior albums. 

The new cut, Cortando Bajito (Cutting Short), is a Clavinet-driven workout that may have you thinking of Superstition but it’s really just a distant cousin. Most importantly, it’s a jam and a half, furiously danceable, and Turner’s understated vocal is like the breeze you need to stay cool enough to keep moving. As for the rest of the collection, you could literally pick 13 songs at random from his catalog and come up with a similarly enjoyable selection since he’s never released a bad song. 

That said, I was certainly happy to see some of my personal favorites making the cut, like Monosabio Blues, its insinuating stutter-step rhythm still driving me wild after hundreds of listens. So simple, so perfect, and played with the kind of insouciance most musicians only achieve in their dreams. Turner’s versatility is also on full display, from the catchy pop of Here Comes Friday to the groovy social commentary of 45.000$ - Guapapasea, which transforms the calls of male hustlers in his native Spain into an hypnotic call and response. Had it been my job to assemble Soniquete, the only thing I might have made room for is one of the fabulous remixes of Turner’s songs that have come out over the years, like Boozoo Bajou’s spacious take on Dizzie. But once you are in with Gecko Turner I think you will be all in and will dig up and discover those for yourself. 

What transporting sounds have been helping you get away from it all lately?

You might also enjoy:
Best Of 2017: Electronic
Best Of 2016: The Top 20
Best Of 2016 (So Far) - Pt. 1
Gecko's Pleasure Principle
Best Of Ten





Sunday, October 07, 2018

Three Portraits: Cheung-Trapani-Du Yun

Albums by ensembles featuring multiple composers are a great way to focus on a group’s skills, both as curators and players. But the “portrait album” is another thing, giving listeners a valuable opportunity to focus on a range of works by one artist. Here are three of the best from recent months. 

Anthony Cheung - Cycles and Arrows One common criticism of post-modernism when it first became widely known in the 80’s was that it was a movement based on superficialities. For example, when an architect used some vestige of a Greek column in their work it was just there because it looked good or called up certain associations. There was seemingly no reference or understanding about why the ancients might have developed such a form or what mathematical principles lay behind its visual perfection. 

The music of Anthony Cheung is a firm rebuttal to that line of thinking. When you read his program notes for this, his third portrait album, you quickly realize that any echo of past forms or other compositions comes from a place of deep scholarship and musical understanding. Combined with a sureness of orchestration that feels natural and intuitive but is surely the product of much study and experimentation, the result is a delightful array of compositions from the last five years. Take the opening work, written for flute and string quartet and cheekily entitled The Real Book Of Fake Tunes. Over five short movements, the dialogue between the players unfurls with such wit and elegance you almost forget there are five people working together to produce the sounds. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the players are the genius flautist Claire Chase and the excellent Spektral Quartet, who also appear on the angular Bagatelles with pianist Winston Choi. 

So it goes throughout the album, whether combining Chinese instruments with Western ones in More Marginalia (played by the astonishing Atlas Ensemble) or composing for solo oboe in Après Une Lecture, which is cleverly based on notated speech patterns Cheung saw in the notebooks of Leos Janacek and played to perfection by Ernest Rombaut. The International Contemporary Ensemble appears on two pieces, the swaggering Assumed Roles with violist Maiya Papach, and Times Vestiges, which ends the album with a sense of unresolved mystery, like a flashlight’s beam being swallowed by tunnel. Cycles And Arrows is, like Dystemporal from 2016, further proof that Cheung is one of the finest composers of our time. 

Christopher Trapani - Waterlines While it’s usually terrible when visa problems derail a concert, it was actually to my benefit when Talea Ensemble had to shift gears for their slot at last month’s Resonant Bodies festival. Instead of playing a world premiere by a European composer, the group decided to revisit Trapani’s Waterlines. As a board member of Talea, I saw this happening in real time but still had no idea what to expect as I had missed a previous performance of the piece. 

“Home is the pull of a tonic chord,” Trapani writes in his liner notes for Waterlines, “Home is the warm glow of consonance, radiating through a hissing layer of noise.” He then goes on to describe the gestation of the piece, from being in Paris and watching Katrina hit his home city, to seeking solace in the old country and Delta blues records that animate this five-song cycle, especially ones about the great flood of 1927, to finding parallels between those old shellacs and the spectral music of Gerard Grisey and others.

I felt that pull and warmth right from the first strummed dulcimer chords that open the first song, Can’t Feel At Home, a feeling that only increased when Lucy Dhegrae began singing with the perfect combination of real feeling, theatricality and classical control.Waterlines brought me back to the first time I heard Barstow by Harry Partch, to that feeling like it had been with me all my life. All five songs in Waterlines were riveting and I marveled at the fractured vernacular, the lean orchestration, which has a few unusual instruments (fretless Turkish banjo) but no gimmicks, the quotes from Mahler and others that somehow fit just right...before it was over I knew I was in the presence of an instant classic. Dhegrae was fantastic throughout and Talea's playing, led by conductor James Baker, was intricate, powerful, and immaculately balanced. And now we have this recording featuring the same forces and I cannot recommend it highly enough.


There are four other excellent works here as well. Passing Through, Staying Put is a tart piano trio stylishly played by Longleash, who put such a stamp of greatness on Scott Wollschleger's Soft Aberration last year. The JACK Quartet takes on Visions And Revisions, elucidating its harmonic and melodic ties to Dylan's Visions Of Johanna with what sounds like great affinity for the music. There's further magic in the way Marilyn Nonken's sparkling piano in The Silence Falling Star Lights Up A Purple Sky segues into the final work, Cognitive Consonance.


The longest piece on the album, it consists of two long movements for stringed instruments bookending a brief electronic interlude. Talea Ensemble also contributes here and the electronics were crafted at IRCAM, the electronic music incubator founded by Pierre Boulez. The first part, Disorientation, uses a specially modified qanun (a kind of zither), played with extraordinary facility by Didem Basar, to explore a tactile landscape of immersive microtonality. I hung on every pluck and sweep of the strings, taking great pleasure from the way they interacted with the electronic textures. The second part, Westering, is played by Trapani himself on a hexaphonic electric guitar, which has transposition controls for each string, each of which is amplified by its own pickup, allowing for great control of pitch, timbre, etc. But you won't need to think about any of that as you listen - just enjoy the journey, which has no shortage of mystery.


While Trapani's music has been played by many distinguished performers over the years, and included on some fine albums, Waterlines is the first album devoted solely to his work and its display of his scholarship, emotional depth and originality could not be more successful or musically satisfying. I can only imagine what he will do next.


Du Yun - Dinosaur Scar I'm one of those slightly clueless types who actually needed Du Yun to win the Pulitzer Prize (as she did last year for Angel's Bone, her second opera) for me to become fully aware of her music. Seeing her furious concentration as a performer at the MATA Festival last spring was only a reiteration of her talents. Now we have this album, which is probably the most complete overview of her shorter works to date. I could be churlish and point out that six of the ten tracks have been in the can since 2009 - almost a decade, which is far too long for an artist as protean as Du Yun. 


But there are many wonders within Dinosaur Scar, such as Air Glow, which combines five brass players with electric guitar and bass for a sinuous, atmospheric experience that goes on for nearly 11 glorious minutes. The performers are all from the International Contemporary Ensemble, a testament to their 20-year working relationship with Du Yun and an assurance that they are all at the top of their field. Special note must by paid to guitarist Dan Lippel, whose does stunning work all over the record. Claire Chase is also here and in full effect on Run in a Graveyard, which she first included on her debut solo album in 2011. Pitting her alto flute against Du Yun's gnarly electronics creates a unique blend indeed, its strong narrative drive keeping you in suspense throughout.


The title track is the oldest piece, written for solo saxophone in 1999 when Du Yun was a sophomore in college, and played like it was hot off the sheet music by Ryan Muncy. This well-rounded collection also includes two scintillating improvisations, one which features Du Yun on kazoo, toy harmonica and phone, showing her humor. The electrifying and episodic by, of...Lethean ends the album, effectively soundtracking a movie I made up in my mind as I listened. What stories will Du Yun tell you? 


P.S. A number of the works on Dinosaur Scar will be performed as part of Du Yun's Composer Portrait at the Miller Theater on November 15th. Perhaps I will see you there!


Find tracks from all of these albums and other notable classical releases from 2018 in this playlist - and, as always, tell me what I'm missing.


You may also enjoy:

Record Roundup: Electronic Excursions
Record Roundup: Avant Chamber And Orchestral
MATA's Bad Romance At The Kitchen
Record Roundup: Electro-Acoustic Explorations
Record Roundup: On The Cutting Edge
Best Of 2017: Classical

Saturday, September 15, 2018

Record Roundup: Electronic Excursions


Elsa Hewitt’s blend of assured song craft and handmade electronic textures put her most recent album, Quilt Jams, on my top 25 records of 2018 (so far), but that’s hardly the only place I’ve been turning to for excursions into the heart of synthetic sound. Here are a few more that are keeping me plugged in.

Good Luck In Death - They Promised Us A Bright Future, We Were Content With An Obscure Past Did you ever pretend to know more than you did about an artist, whether in front of an sneering record store employee or a musical mentor? I can admit that I have, at least in my younger years, tried to appear more in the know than I am. But no longer: I’m going to come right out and say that I did not recognize a single artist in the press packet for this debut from GLID, which is a collaboration between Paul Régimbeau (electronics, analog synths, mixing) and Charbel Haber (electric guitar). The former is apparently also known for his work as Mondkopf in the world of extreme metal and the latter is from Lebanon and a leading light in the “new pan-Arab psychedelia” as well as a member of The Bunny Tylers, Scrambled Eggs and Johnny Kafta’s Anti-Vegetarian Orchestra. Who? What? If I can ever tear myself away from GLID, I might have time to explore all those avenues. 

But for now I will continue to revel in the sleekly textured, deeply immersive sound world created by Régimbeau and Haber. Even without such evocative titles as Fire Dreams And Reveries and Unforgettable Cabaret Nights, the four tracks on They Promised Us... would immediately draw you in. There are no beats to speak of, and it’s possible that most of the work shaping the compositions was done in post-production. But even so, there is a sure narrative drive to each piece. Fire Dreams, for example, begins with a slightly burred drone, over which seemingly random scraping sounds gradually resolve into a pattern that grows smoother and more dimensional over time. A cicada-like whine emerges over the top and it’s like an aerial shot of mountains dropping away into valley as the camera swoops and glides overhead. The cicadas turn into chainsaws - or a barbed-wire string quartet - as drama builds in an imperious manner. The buzzsaws fade into a series of bells, a childlike pattern that settles the matter. 

Hopefully this isn’t just a one-off for Haber and Régimbeau, but if it is I can always track down all their other projects. Either way, the strength and self-contained perfection of this album may just be the catalyst for that bright future to emerge out of their obscure past.

I-VT - BLOC This is another established artist’s side project, in this case Adam Cuthbért of slashsound, the composer collective behind Return, last year’s brilliant album by the New Music Ensemble at Grand Valley State University. Cuthbért’s compatriot Daniel Rhode is here as well, along with other collaborators young and old, including Phong Tran, whose first album Initiate came out last year, and Juma Sultan who played percussion with Hendrix at Woodstock.

In contrast with the pastoral (if sometimes ominous) images conjured up by Good Luck In Death, I-VT puts you in a claustrophobic, urban setting - an abandoned subway station repurposed for an intense party comes to mind. Dance beats come and go, sometimes spare and sometimes brutal, as on TEMPLAR (Viberous Remix), which gives Trent Reznor a run for his money.  Wordless vocals are also put into the mix, which only adds to the evocative, emotional depth of the music. 

Some of what Cuthbért is doing with I-VT is reminiscent of the dawn of electronic pop, like early Mute Records releases, but the difference is that instead of using everything available at the time to make sounds and songs, he’s consciously stripping down and selecting from a vast array of knowledge, both technical and compositional. Whatever the process by which he and his cohort arrived at the final tracks for BLOC, the result is a series of miniature mind movies that I’ve enjoyed watching over and over again. And, in HIPSTER SLUDGE, they’ve surely arrived at one of THE song titles of the year. 

Novelty Daughter - Cocoon Year While Faith Harding's glorious voice and gift for labyrinthine melodies would be compelling in any context, the jewel-like tracks she sings over are usually exclusively synthetic, as on this EP of "six songs about metamorphosis." These range from the bright and bouncy Emily, with one of her best vocals to date, to A Reading From The Crack-Up, which features her treated voice, presumably reading from the F. Scott Fitzgerald essay, over a hazy cloud of sound. O Wonder! uses pings and pongs to assemble a catchy tune, to which she adds a samba-esque rhythm and then sings over it all in a relaxed fashion, a space-age Peggy Lee. Like that iconic singer, Novelty Daughter is a cool customer who uses her reserved nature (as an artist, anyway - her Instagram feed is another thing entirely, and delightfully so) to draw you in as you try to decode her emotional landscape. Even if I never get all the answers, it's a place I like to visit often.

For more plugged-in sounds from 2018, keep up with this playlist - and let me know what I'm missing!

You may also enjoy:
Best Of 2017: The Top 25
Best Of 2017: Electronic
Record Roundup: On The Cutting Edge
Record Roundup: Eclectic Electronics
Novelty Daughter: Up From Underground
Best of 2016: Electronic
Channel Surfing With TV Girl

Sunday, September 09, 2018

Aretha Anew


Even before Aretha Franklin left us to become "one of the featured voices of the angels," as Smokey Robinson put it at her funeral, I was starting on a journey through her musical legacy, trying to put some shape to it in my mind. A quick self-examination laid bare how much received wisdom I was carrying around, even with all the listening I've done over the years. Casting aside all shibboleths, I realized how many questions I had about her career. Were the Columbia years truly musically barren? What happened at Atlantic after the hits? Was any of her time at Arista equal to her best work?

What follows is a brief overview of some of the thoughts I had while listening to every track available on Spotify on a quest to assemble a playlist that would give you "A Brand New Look At Aretha."

Columbia records stewarded the careers of Billie Holiday and Miles Davis, to name just two artists, working with latter for over 15 years in one of the great artist-label relationships. Greater still is their connection to Bob Dylan, who has worked with them for over 50 years and, aside from a brief time at Asylum, will likely finish his career with all of his albums under their wing. So what did they get wrong with Aretha Franklin?

Listening to the nine - nine - albums of material Aretha recorded for the label from 1961 through 1965, the word that keeps coming to mind is “another,” as in she could be “another Dinah Washington” or “another Ruth Brown” or “another Sarah Vaughn,” or even “another Nellie Lutcher” - but in all those years and sessions, Columbia never seemed to grasp that she could never be anyone else, she could only be Aretha Franklin - and we will surely never have another one of her. 

Like Holiday, Davis and Dylan (and Elvis, Patsy Cline, The Beatles, Hendrix, Bowie, Michael Jackson and a few others), Aretha, when she finally came into her own, stood alone in her field, a shining example of the music that defined her - and which she in turn defined. Of that group, Aretha was among the most relentless about maintaining her privacy, only occasionally having her personal life spill into the media circus. Her reticence made it easy to focus exclusively on Aretha’s music as I went through my process, but it also sometimes lent an impersonal quality to her music, something I will touch on later.

But crawling through her the Columbia recordings, including some that weren't released until later, I did find some gems, but I also heard a singer still finding her own voice. I don't think the stylistic waywardness was entirely attributable to her producers. Also, a quick look at the credits puts the lie to the “Atlantic gave her back her piano” myth, as she did play the instrument on some sessions. 

But it can’t be denied that after joining Atlantic Records in 1966, Aretha instantly hit her stride. She took immediately to producer Jerry Wexler's approach, which had her singing at the piano on most tracks, often accompanied by two of her sisters, Erma and Carolyn. They also chose recent and new songs more tailored to the times and her sensibility, finally escaping Tin Pan Alley, and had her collaborating with younger musicians like the mighty King Curtis. However, hindsight in this case is a lot fuzzier than 20/20, as even at her peak for every classic, indelible album like I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You, Lady Soul, Spirit In The Dark or Amazing Grace, there’s usually one or two others less well remembered.  

Consider the fact that during her 12-year tenure with Atlantic, Aretha released 19 albums, not including compilations - and her reputation was mainly built on just four of them. Atlantic might have served her well by insisting on slowing things down a little to keep the pipeline of great - not merely good - songs full. But massive, world-beating success tends to cloud people’s judgement as they seek more of the same. It also should be noted that her time at Atlantic overlapped with her most dedicated work on the civil rights movement, which may have also stretched her thin at times. That legacy is a crucial part of her life, but I will leave it to others more qualified than I to describe it.

Then came the Arista years, starting in 1980, when she became yet another legend scooped up by Clive Davis, along with Lou Reed and Iggy Pop. Like them, Franklin struggled a bit commercially under Davis’s glossy approach, especially at the beginning. She released 10 albums over 23 years with the label, during which time she found some success in the MTV era. While she did fall prey to some of the sonic foibles of the time, working with outstanding talents like Marcus Miller and Luther Vandross kept some of that in check. 

I sometimes feel a sense of over-familiarity with the  great Atlantic albums, especially I Never Loved A Man and Lady Soul, so I decided to ignore one or two of them while making the playlist. The hit singles were so ubiquitous (and perhaps over-licensed to film and television) and I listened to the albums so many times that they are a part of my DNA. So, my brief going in was to hopefully include at least one song from every album while keeping the final result to no more than two and a half hours. This was tougher than I thought as I didn’t realize how many albums she had put out overall - close to 40!

There are five Atlantic albums from the late 70’s that are NOT on Spotify, which helped with the playlist's length but hindered completeness. None of them were commercial successes, but any fan of Aretha or funk and soul from the era will find good stuff within their grooves. Until Atlantic heeds my call on Twitter to add them to the platform, I direct you to YouTube or even DailyMotion to find songs from With Everything I Feel In Me (1974), You (1975), Sweet Passion (1977), Almighty Fire (1978) and La Diva (1979). There must be a story there, as the label also neglected to include those records in the set disingenuously called The Atlantic Albums Collection. It’s frankly a shame and even disRESPECTtful that music-biz shenanigans are suppressing a quarter of her output for the label. Her last album of new material, A Woman Falling Out Love (2011), which she self-released, is also not available for streaming - yet. 

Now to the playlist. While many of these songs may be unfamiliar to you - as they were to me - they have held up to repeated listenings and enriched my understanding of Aretha's extraordinary career. Here’s a rundown of all the songs I ended up with, along with some interesting tidbits I learned along the way. 

BEGINNINGS

While The Blood Runs Warm (from Aretha Gospel aka Songs Of Faith, 1956)

Like most soul singers, Aretha got her start in church. This live album, recorded at New Bethel Baptist Church in her hometown of Detroit, probably under her father’s gaze, gives us a fascinating peek at those origins. The 14-year-old Aretha displays extraordinary command, both in her singing and her piano playing, and if the shadow of Mahalia Jackson looms large, that was true for every gospel singer who came after her. Jackson was also one of several women who took care of Aretha after her mother died in 1952 so some of the influence was very direct!

THE COLUMBIA YEARS 

Won’t Be Long and Who Needs You (from Aretha in Person with the Ray Bryant Combo, 1961)

After all I read about the Columbia years, this debut album opened with a nice surprise in the sprightly and swinging Won’t Be Long, written by John Leslie McFarland, a so-so songwriter and arranger assigned to Aretha by John Hammond, the legendary record man who signed Franklin to the label. It’s not a great song, but Aretha goes for it - listen to her voice crack when she sings “on the 5:03.” Who Needs You?, a rare Billie Holiday co-write, is even better. Aretha sings this kiss-off song like she means it, with a smile in her voice and adding little Lutcher-like hiccups, a young singer trying on another’s guise. However, it was also a style that was at least 10 years gone. She’s at the piano on this track and you can hear the difference. 

Rough Lover (from The Electrifying Aretha Franklin, 1961)

Much of this second album is a disappointing retreat from the hints of success on the first one, with the producers rooting around in the Great American songbook for ill-fitting numbers like Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive. Hardly electrifying, and even worse was the echo they put on her voice, giving it distance when clarity and closeness was required. This song, another McFarland original, tries a bit too hard, but the fun Aretha is having pretending to be a salty old blues singer is infectious. Also, the “Now listen here, girls” intro sounds a lot like the Aretha we would come to know and love a few years later. 

Without The One You Love (from The Tender, the Moving, the Swinging Aretha Franklin, 1962)

The sweeping strings that announce Aretha’s first recorded composition indicate just how far off the mark Columbia was drifting in their search for a sound for Aretha. It’s a highly derivative ballad, not without melodic sophistication, but she struggles a bit to give it shape. There's actually a Berry Gordy, Jr. song called I'm Wandering on the album, a minor effort made worse by an intrusive trombone. But at least it showed an awareness of Motown, which had already put songs at the top of the charts by 1962.

Skylark (from Laughing On The Outside, 1963) 

Aretha’s ballad style is showing considerable improvement on this Hoagy Carmichael-Johnny Mercer chestnut, with more dynamic range and structure. Listen for the way she hits the word “skylark” after the bridge - wow. There’s another original on the album, but also a lot of songs that had been recorded by others, including Ella Fitzgerald, who seems to be the inspiration for the cover photo. 

Note: after this point, the Columbia years get a little tangled, as they were recording more than they were releasing in their elusive search for a sound and success. Some material was put out on albums after 1966 in an attempt to piggyback on the big sales Aretha was racking up at Atlantic. In 2011, a comprehensive box set tried to put some coherence to the sessions and I have used that to try to put the songs in the order in which they were recorded. 

I May Never Get To Heaven (from Take It Like You Give It, 1967, but recorded earlier (1963?); now on Tiny Sparrow: The Bobby Scott Sessions

Even with all their flailing about, Columbia never tried a gospel album with Aretha, though they had had considerable success with Mahalia Jackson. She sounds very comfortable with the churchy overtones of this song and her singing is extraordinary - check out how she uses her breath to support the ladder of notes in the chorus, especially at the end of the song. Bobby Scott’s production is uncluttered and crisp. 

Nobody Knows The Way I Feel This Morning (from Unforgettable: A Tribute To Dinah Washington, 1964) 

Dinah Washington had died just two months earlier and Aretha sounds very inspired to pay tribute on this track, which is one of her finest blues recordings - period. It’s a master class in inflection that will have you hanging on every iteration of the word “morning.” Also helpful is a very engaged small group featuring the great Paul Griffin, who played with everyone from Bob Dylan to Steely Dan, on organ, alongside the classy George Duvivier on bass and the explosive drummer Gary Chester. The string-heavy ballads, like the title track, come across as fairly rote, but this is still one of Aretha’s more consistent Columbia albums. 

One Room Paradise (from Runnin' Out Of Fools, 1964)

Another McFarland number, which means that it succeeds despite being a bit of a parody. Even though he had somewhat of track record, mainly dating to the 50's, it's mystery to me why he had so much cred with John Hammond. They had Bob Dylan right there and never thought to try Aretha with one of his songs! But a tight arrangement including some delightful interaction between Aretha and the background vocalists make it the best recording on the album. That surprised me because seeing Walk On By, Every Little Bit Hurts and My Guy On the track list raised my hopes - yet they all fall curiously flat. 

I’ll Keep On Smiling (from Take A Look, 1967, but recorded earlier (1964?); now on Take A Look: The Clyde Otis Sessions)

“I’m gonna smile and take it baby,” Aretha nearly spits out at the top of this song (another original composition) in a way that makes you think she had other things on her mind besides a wayward man. Was it her first civil rights anthem?

One Step Ahead (Single, 1965, now on A Bit Of Soul)

This winsome, starlit ballad met with some success at the time - Aretha even performed it on TV! While it still feels nearly a decade out of date, its charms are undeniable. Hip hop producer Ayatollah agreed when he discovered it in 1998, kicking off his career with a beat made from the song, which was made into a hit by Mos Def. 

Take It Like You Give It (from Take It Like You Give It, 1967, but recorded earlier (1965?); now on A Bit Of Soul)

This Aretha original, brief though it is, starts to hint at a contemporary soul sound, with some nice call and response vocals and a tougher delivery from the burgeoning Queen. 

Cry Like A Baby (from Soul Sister, 1966, but recorded earlier (1965?); now on A Bit Of Soul)


This early Ashford & Simpson song, co-written with Jo Armstead, finds Aretha romping all over the tight arrangement, especially at the end. Not perfect, but definite signs of life. In David Ritz's Respect: The Life Of Aretha Franklin, Clyde Otis, who produced most of her later Columbia tracks, revealed some of the challenges they had working together. “Strange woman. Brilliant woman. A woman blessed with inordinate talent,” he told Ritz, "and yet, for all our time together, a woman I never really understood or even got to know. I saw her as a woman holding in secret pain — and I wasn’t let in on those secrets.”


Trouble In Mind (from Yeah!!!, 1965)

This was the last album Columbia released while she was still signed to the label. Having her record live in the studio with a small band (including the great Kenny Burrell on guitar) was a good idea, but adding phony applause and marketing it as a live album was a terrible one. Fortunately, all that was stripped away during the reissue program allowing us to judge the album more clearly. In the end, it's another missed opportunity due to the mostly lousy song selection. This classic blues fares quite well, however, and you can hear Aretha taking charge when she counts the band in from the piano. Her phrasing is starting to acquire the clipped, declarative style that would take the world by storm.

THE ATLANTIC YEARS 

Don't Let Me Lose This Dream (from I've Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You, 1967)

There aren't really any deep cuts on this five-star classic album, but this bossa nova-inspired song, co-written by Aretha and her first husband, Ted White, is a personal favorite of mine. It has all the qualities of the four singles released from the record, including carefully modulated dynamics and a very compelling, natural feeling to the arc of the song as she subtly ramps up the tension. Her piano dances all around the track and the harmonizing with Carolyn, Erma and Cissy Houston is sheer bliss.

Ain't Nobody (Gonna Turn Me Around) (from Aretha Arrives, 1967)

Ronnie Shannon's Baby, I Love You is the only real classic from this album, which was released a mere five months after the titanic I've Never Loved A Man. But this tune, written by Carolyn, has a delightful insouciance and a great background vocal arrangement. It deserves to be better known.

I Take What I Want (from Aretha Now, 1968)

After the downturn of Arrives, Aretha and her team regrouped and cut Lady Soul (1968), which was another end-to-end winner that should be in everyone's collection. Aretha Now, which came out just a few months later, was nearly as good. Sam & Dave originally cut this Isaac Hayes-David Porter-Teenie Hodges number, but Aretha's version puts a more relaxed spin on it. Jerry Jemmott gives a masterclass in bass playing and Cissy Houston and the Sweet Inspirations add enough extra sass that it's hard to call them "background" singers.

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction (from Aretha In Paris, 1968)

This first live release is highly underrated and is an energetic blast from start to finish. When she cut this signature Stones song on Aretha Arrives it was stiff and sounded miscast. She kept at it though and really ripped into it live, finding new contours in Mick Jagger's monotonic vocal line. She obviously loved the song and kept it in her setlist at least through the early 70's.

Rambling (from Soul '69, 1969)

While not all of this "big band" album works, when it does Aretha is clearly having a great time, as on this Big Maybelle cover. She never really stops singing throughout - listen to the way she heralds in the sax solo (either King Curtis or David "Fathead" Newman) - and the last minute finds her riffing and scatting, inciting the band to "tell a story" and wailing until she's nearly breathless. You will be, too.

Eleanor Rigby (from This Girl's In Love With You, 1970)

The funk is getting a little harder on Aretha's first 70's album and no more so than on this storming take on Paul McCartney's introspective jewel. As we know from Respect, Aretha had no trouble changing lyrics to suit herself and the little twist of saying "I'm Eleanor Rigby" is surprisingly effective. Also surprising is that there's more of the church here than in her version of Let It Be, which McCartney had written with her in mind. Her ownership of Eleanor Rigby is impressive, but she couldn't do the same with Son Of A Preacher Man, forever the property of Dusty Springfield. The tight group of Muscle Shoals musicians hearkens back to her first work with Atlantic just three years earlier.

Why I Sing The Blues (from Spirit In The Dark, 1970)

Keeping up with her brutal schedule of two albums each year, Aretha also managed to have four originals on this record, including the brilliant title track. That song became another thing entirely on stage, as in this astonishing whisper-to-a scream workout from Antibes in 1971. Even when she hands the mic off to dance, you know who's leading the band. She stays at the electric piano in another amazing version from the Fillmore West - until she gives it up to Ray Charles! This B.B. King song closes the album and she sings it as if she lived it - and she probably did.

Love The One You're With (from Live At The Fillmore West, 1971)

"A little something that we're experimenting with tonight," says Aretha, introducing her version of the Steven Stills song, "And we hope you enjoy it as much as we're going to." Her ear had no doubt picked up on the touches of gospel and Muscle Shoals soul in the original and she amplifies all those things with her tightly drilled band. Even though this album is rated fairly highly, I feel like she doesn't get the props as a live performer that she deserves. An expanded version from 2015 adds two more complete concerts, including full opening sets by King Curtis. An especially poignant moment comes near the end of the March 7, 1971 show when Aretha says "Look for King and I to do our thing, for years to come," not knowing that five months later he would be brutally murdered, ripping away one of her staunchest musical companions.

A Brand New Me (from Young, Gifted and Black, 1972)

This album had a fairly long gestation, being recorded from August 1970 through February 1971. Six singles came off of it, including the phenomenal Rock Steady, which might be her funkiest composition. That song was a showcase for the great drummer Bernard "Pretty" Purdie, and the whole record is filled with sharp studio musicians, which results in maybe a little too much polish overall. This song, written by Philly Soul avatars Kenny Gamble, Jerry Butler and Theresa Bell, was originally recorded by Dusty Springfield in 1969. Unlike with Son Of A Preacher Man, Aretha has no problem making it her own. She finds a higher register in her voice and captures the tune's exuberance perfectly.

How I Got Over (from Amazing Grace, 1972)

Over a decade into her professional career it was well past time for a gospel album from Aretha and the landmark live album that resulted was more than worth the wait. This version of the Clara Ward standard is a good representation of the ecstatic feel throughout. A documentary film, directed by Sydney Pollack, was shot during the recording of the album and finally completed in 2011. Aretha blocked every attempt at showing it during her lifetime; it remains to be seen if her estate will change that.

Young, Gifted and Black (from Oh Me, Oh My: Aretha Live In Philly 1972, 2007)

This concert, recorded at an industry convention, was a great discovery. While it's a less expansive show than the Fillmore sets, it has some unique features like this instrumental version of the Nina Simone song that Aretha had covered on her most recent studio album. She really shines as a bandleader here, clearly delighted to be among instrumental equals. She comps for everyone's solos, keeping a lively background going, and when it's her turn she sparkles in a rhythmic dialog with the conga player that keeps everyone on their toes.

Hey Now Hey (The Other Side Of The Sky) (from Hey Now Hey (The Other Side Of The Sky), 1973)

It's hard to know where to lay the blame for this, the first near-total disaster of Aretha's Atlantic tenure. Was it the fault of Quincy Jones, who was still some years off from finding his way as a producer outside of jazz? Aretha was co-producer, however, so some of the responsibility is hers. Was she missing the sure hand of King Curtis, who was a savant when it came to combining pop, soul and jazz? We'll never know, but there are so many wrong directions here that it's hard to know where to start. From the interminable version of the Leonard Bernstein-Steven Sondheim song Somewhere, to the wrong-footed take on Moody's Mood For Love, not to mention deservedly forgotten songs like Mister Spain, there's not a lot good to say about the album. The brightest spots come from Aretha's pen, as on So Swell When You're Well, a collaboration with New Orleans piano genius James Booker, and the title track. The main part of the song is hard funk, with stunning playing from the rhythm section and pianist Spooner Oldham - and Aretha singing the heck out of it. There's an almost psychedelic bridge that doesn't really work, but it doesn't last long, and you can't hold her ambition against her.

Let Me In Your Life (from Let Me In Your Life, 1974)

With Jerry Wexler back in the producer's chair, this was a huge improvement over the previous album. There were new collaborators on board as well, including Donny Hathaway and, on the Bill Withers song that opened the album, Brazilian legend Eumir Deodato. The album also makes fewer concessions to rock and pop, which could be seen as a reflection of the fragmentation of the audience, in part thanks to that other Atlantic act, Led Zeppelin. Disco was on the rise, funk was getting deeper, and some white listeners may not have been following as closely as they once had.

I Get High (from Sparkle, 1976)

After the disappointing sales of With Everything I Feel In Me (1974) and You (1975), her last two albums with Jerry Wexler, Aretha got wind of Curtis Mayfield's score for the movie Sparkle. In the film, a tale of the rise and fall of a singing group not unlike The Supremes, the singing is done by the actors, including Irene Cara of Fame fame. But Aretha used her legendary status to muscle in on the soundtrack album and sang over the original backing tracks, scoring both commercial and artistic success. This song is the most "Curtis" sounding on the album, which makes it my favorite.

Aretha closed out her time at Atlantic with three albums that are ripe for re-appraisal. Sweet Passion (1977) found her working with Motown great Lamont Dozier, Almighty Fire (1978) paired her up with Mayfield again (and was sometimes funkier than Sparkle!), and La Diva (1979) was her first true bid for the disco dance floor, with Van McCoy, The Hustle man himself, lending a hand. Her singing was always fine and all three albums have their moments and would have found places on this playlist. The music biz is no stranger to posthumous cash-grabs and this is one case where some deluxe reissues would be more than welcome.

Just as Aretha was transitioning to Arista, her first new label since 1967, tragedy struck when her father, C.L. Franklin was shot in a robbery attempt. Not only was he a nationally known preacher who had marched with MLK, he had guided Aretha's early career and appeared on Amazing Grace. He was in a coma for the next few years, but just as with King Curtis, Aretha kept her what must have been devastating sorrow out of her music.

THE ARISTA YEARS

Take Me With You (from Aretha, 1980)

Aretha's first album on her new label featured a few holdovers from the Atlantic era, most notably producer Arif Mardin, but there were a lot of new faces as well. Chuck Jackson (not the Any Day Now singer but one of the writers behind Leaving Me by The Independents) co-produced and wrote several of the songs, including this sprightly dance number. Aretha had obviously been paying attention to the great disco divas and absorbed their techniques, turning in an amazing, inspired performance. If it seemed a little late for disco in 1980, time's flattening effect allows us to enjoy Take Me With You as catchy and fun party-starter. The album sold fairly well, but was not quite the knockout punch she needed. Much of it has not held up, either veering into "adult contemporary" territory, or trying too hard, as with the regrettable "update" of Otis Redding's I Can't Turn You Loose. The cover photo, a relatable but glamorous shot by Hollywood legend George Hurrell was a huge upgrade on some of her later Atlantic albums, however!

Truth And Honesty (from Love All The Hurt Away, 1981)

Written by the trio of Burt Bacharach, Carol Bayer Sager and Peter Allen, this track is thankfully not a gloopy mess, but rather a classy and upbeat variation on one of Aretha's favorite themes: treat me right. Arif Mardin was back as producer and Marcus Miller, who would become an important collaborator, makes his first appearance on an Aretha album, playing bass on several tracks. There was also a so-so duet with George Benson and a couple more horrid remakes, namely You Can't Always Get What You Want and Hold On I'm Coming, which bizarrely earned a Grammy award, Aretha's first since 1974.

It's Your Thing (from Jump To It, 1982)

The title track was a huge hit, although in retrospect it's not much of a song. This track was another remake and really should not have worked, but the arrangement and Aretha's joy in singing it make it an infectious winner. Marcus Miller's bass is insane and the vocal arrangement, which included Erma for the first time in years, is hypnotic. Producer Luther Vandross no doubt had something to do with that. The horns, arranged brilliantly by Jerry Hey, equal anything on Off The Wall or Thriller, which he worked on that same year. There's also a nice collaboration with the Four Tops and a Smokey Robinson song to end what was Aretha's most consistent album in quite some time.

Pretender (from Get It Right, 1983)

Having got it right with Jump To It, Aretha stuck with Vandross and Miller for the next album. She seems to connect with this slinky song, another in the "treat me right" genre. The title track was a decent slice of shiny 80's funk, with Aretha toying with a new huskiness in her voice. The last song, called Giving In and credited to Clarence Franklin (also the name of her first child), has touch of gospel and makes me wonder if she was coming to terms with her father's situation. But it's also a pretty bland love song, so who knows? In any case, he would be dead within a year.

Integrity (from Who's Zoomin' Who?, 1985)

Sales for Get It Right were lower than Jump To It, so Arista head Clive Davis took matters in hand, ditching Vandross and Miller and bringing in Narada Michael Walden, another jazz fusion guy making the switch to pop and R&B. Davis's instincts were correct, at least commercially, and Aretha rose to the top of the MTV and Billboard charts with Freeway Of Love, Another Night and Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves, giving her a platinum album and making her a star for a new generation of listeners. She also had another go at Van McCoy's Sweet Bitter Love, finally conquering a song she had first recorded at Columbia in 1965 . But it's this self-penned (and self-produced) song that's the hidden gem for me. It's less cluttered than much of the album, and the Dizzy Gillespie trumpet solo is a perfect touch. You also feel for Aretha, because someone is taking advantage of her, whether in love or business. She was still seeking respect all those years later.

He'll Come Along (from Aretha, 1986)

Of course Walden was back as they tried to hit the same heights as Who's Zoomin' Who. They almost made it, sales-wise, but much of the album was a bloated mess. Even with Aretha back at the piano, the cover of Jumpin' Jack Flash was wretched, and the other singles weren't much better. This song again written and produced by Aretha, is a return to a gospel-soul sound and is filled with hope for romantic possibilities. She sings to raise the roof, especially on the ad libs near the end.

We Need Power (from One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism, 1987)

Speaking of power, now that Aretha had regained some clout, she turned back to the church for her second gospel album. This gave her a chance to sing more with her sisters and with Mavis Staples, who was more up to the challenge than other duet partners like Annie Lennox and George Michael. Structured like a service and recorded at her father's church in Detroit, the album is both a personal statement and a near-definitive document of a crucial part of African-American life. As this song proves, the fervor was as real as it was on Amazing Grace, even if fewer people were listening this time around. One impetus for making the album might have been her sister Carolyn's health. She was probably already being treated for the breast cancer that killed her the following year, another of Aretha's pillars of support gone too soon.

He's The Boy (from Through The Storm, 1989)

After the gospel shouts had faded, and Carolyn had died, it was back to business as usual. Walden produced again and there were more duets, with James Brown, Elton John, Whitney Houston, etc. A lot of that stuff sounds pretty bad at this late date, but Aretha rescued the album with another original tune, leading a small band (including Louis Johnson on bass) from the piano and delivering an understated vocal that's a coy and sexy delight.

You Can't Take Me For Granted (from What You See Is What You Sweat, 1991)

Even with sagging sales, Clive Davis doubled down on the Who's Zoomin' Who strategy, adding more duets and a passel of producers to Aretha's first album of the 90s. She looks less than thrilled on the cover and album-buyers responded in kind. I hate to keep harping on this, but she sounds most engaged on another of her own songs with her own stripped down production. Was she telling Davis not to take her for granted? Either way, he seemed to not be paying attention.

I'll Dip (from A Rose Is Still A Rose, 1998)

After nine records in 11 years, Aretha finally took a break. When she was ready to get back to work, Davis (to his credit) urged her to take stock of the current scene, including neo-soul and hip hop. Even if the album only went gold, it was a good move artistically, with Aretha sounding more than comfortable in new surroundings. While people still remember the Lauryn Hill-produced title track, as far as the rest of the album goes, this sinewy Dallas Austin song is ripest for rediscovery. It's almost a duet with super-funky bassist Colin Wolf - maybe she was reminiscing about all those sessions with Marcus Miller and Louis Johnson while she sang.
So Damn Happy (from So Damn Happy, 2003)

Five years later, after taking time off to care for her sister Erma, who had throat cancer and died in 2002, Aretha was still trying to keep up with the charts. She worked with Mary J. Blige and Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, but also followed new Arista head Antonio Reid's lead in trying to get back to her roots a little bit. This song is a good example, but was it better than the other originals she had been sprinkling around her last few albums? Maybe not, but at least Reid was noticing and had her include two more of her own songs on the album.

Teach Me Tonight (from Sings The Great Diva Classics, 2014)

After Christmas album in 2008 (see below), Aretha self-released A Woman Falling Out Of Love, which she also executive produced in 2011. It's a bit of a mixed bag, but New Day, a groovy bid for the dance floor, is worth revisiting, and she obviously loved Sweet Sixteen, the B.B. King song she included, performing it until the end of her life. For her last studio album, however, she signed with RCA and rejoined Clive Davis for a misconceived collection of covers. Even though "The Aretha Version" of Adele's Rolling In The Deep was her 100th entry on the R&B charts, it was frankly beneath her to sing it. The take on Prince's Nothing Compares 2 U, produced by Andre 3000 of OutKast, was almost weird enough to work. But it was this song, ironically a return to Tin Pan Alley, that held the most charm. Written by Gene De Paul & Sammy Cahn and a hit for Dinah Washington in 1954, it gave Aretha a chance to show off her still-expert jazz chops and steer clear of bombast. But on the whole, this album was not the career capstone anyone was hoping for.

The Lord Will Come Again (from This Christmas, Aretha, 2008)

OK, I cheated. I wanted to end where we started all those songs ago, with a gospel song, so I swapped the order of the last two albums. Christmas albums are usually terrible and I had zero expectations for this one, originally released as an exclusive sold only at Borders Bookstores. "That's so depressing," my wife said when I told her about it, and I had to agree, picturing that now defunct chain of stores. But there's more than one good song on the album and this traditional spiritual is her best studio performance (for live performances, look no further than Obama's inauguration or the "coat drop") of the new millennium. Aretha's arrangement is pure, unvarnished contemporary gospel and her choice of background singers (Twatha Agee, Shelly Ponder and Fonzi Thornton) could not have been better. She rides the mesmerizing rhythm to glory, taking us home one more time.

When I finally came to the end of this journey, I felt clearer on those three questions I articulated above. The Columbia years were not entirely devoid of worth, but can be heard as an extended time of growing up in public. After the hits, her Atlantic years become complicated, possibly reflecting her personal struggles and a lack of support from the label. The two decades at Arista, and afterwards, really only touched on past glories but hold many special moments nonetheless.

After you've had some time to absorb all these songs, I hope you'll have found some new favorites along with a new perspective on the career of one of our most acclaimed and legendary musicians. Tell me one of your favorite deep cuts and let's keep Aretha Franklin's memory alive the way she would have wanted, through her songs.