Steppenwolf was a Canadian-American rock band, prominent from 1968 to 1972. The group was formed in late 1967 in Los Angeles by lead singer John Kay, keyboardist Goldy McJohn, and drummer Jerry Edmonton, all formerly of the Canadian band the Sparrows. Guitarist Michael Monarch and bass guitarist Rushton Moreve were recruited via notices placed in Los Angeles-area record and musical instrument stores.
Waters' The Real Folk Blues and More Real Folk Blues, combined here onto one CD, were not exactly random collections of tracks – the quality was too consistently high for them to just have been picked out of a hat. Still, it was a pretty arbitrary grouping of items that he recorded between 1947 and 1964. In fact, they hail from throughout his whole stint at Chess, virtually; at the time these albums were first issued, though, all of the material on More Real Folk Blues was from the late '40s and early '50s. They didn't exactly concentrate on his most well-known songs, but they didn't entirely neglect them either, including "Mannish Boy," "Walking Thru the Park," "The Same Thing," "Rollin' & Tumblin' Part One," "She's Alright," and "Honey Bee," amongst somewhat more obscure selections. So ultimately, this disc's usefulness depends on your fussiness as a collector – if it's the only Waters you ever pick up, you'll still have a good idea of his greatness, and if you don't mind getting some tracks you might already have on more avowedly best-of sets, you'll probably hear some stuff you don't already have in your collection.
The original Gabin - a French actor known for his portrayals of jaded, faded anti-heroes in 1930s and '40s-era films - might have chuckled ironically if he had been told that, a half-century after his heyday, two Italian musicians would name a fledgling lounge music project after him. But if he had listened to the music, he would have understood. It's full of languid grace and melancholy and is undeniably stylish - exactly what you'd expect to hear in a Parisian café or supper club. Just to add to the effect, many of the song titles and lyrics are in French.
Gabin (2002). Milky, silken rhythms lace through this collaboration between Roman DJ Filippo Clary and jazz bassist Max Battini. Their perspectives find accord in the realm of what martini-addled old-timers might label "acid jazz"…
EMI's two-disc collection Souvenir: 1989-1998 rather nicely chronicles the decade when the Rankin Family rose to prominence in the Canadian pop/folk scene and opened a floodgate of likeminded musicians who brought Celtic influences into the contemporary scene. The collection is evenly focused on their entire career, with a bit of emphasis on the albums North Country and Uprooted, but also properly serves as an end cap to an impressive career (the Rankins disbanded in 1999) and as a memorial to the late John Morris Rankin (1959-2000). It is the perfect place to start for the curious and a fine set for those looking for a comprehensive retrospective.
Chillout albums were all the rage during the early 2000s, but despite the attention, no one had made a record quite like Funki Porcini's Fast Asleep since the glory days of ambient techno, when the Orb's "A Huge Ever-Growing Pulsating Brain That Rules From the Centre of the Ultraworld" merged Tangerine Dream, the Mad Professor, and Larry Heard into a collage of pastoral bliss. Fast Asleep, though obviously functional in a variety of contexts, wasn't designed to soundtrack trips back from the clubs or lazy nights at home with friends, and as such, it neatly side-steps the conscious hipness that usually compromises chillout records. James Braddell, a downbeat veteran stretching back more than a decade, crafted Fast Asleep to move in and out of its framework, with lengthy transitions introducing - or deconstructing - virtually every production…