From Here to Eternity is Moroder's quasi-instrumental masterpiece, a continuous mix of banging Eurodisco complete with vocoder effects and this statement on the back cover: "Only electronic keyboards were used on this recording". The metallic beats, high-energy impact, and futuristic effects prove that Moroder was ahead of his time like few artists of the 1970s (Kraftwerk included), and the free-form songwriting on tracks like "Lost Angeles", "First Hand Experience in Second Hand Love", and the title track are priceless.
To the late, great jazz critic, Leonard Feather, pianist Don Randi was an astonishing performer. He is capable of swinging furiously, has a deathdefying technique and manages to combine his frantic excursions with an element of passionate communication that gives them much more than technical value. And, during the last months of 1960 the 23-year old brought these gifts to Hollywoods small club, The Losers, and kept a packed audience in a constant state of musical excitement with his wellintegrated trio. There was an appealingly gutty strength to his playing that everyone could feel, with a basic, strong, honest feeling for the blues, while his originalssuch as Feelin Like Blues, Blues for Miti or Take Six augured well for him as a composer.
It's been 20 years since David Crosby released a collection of new songs, but he's hardly been quiet in those two decades. His occasional reunions with Stephen Stills, Graham Nash, and sometimes Neil Young get the most attention, but he also appeared on David Gilmour's 2006 album On an Island and, more notably, often worked with his son James Raymond on a band called CPR. Raymond is David's chief collaborator on Croz, a skillful evocation of Crosby's early-'70s haze as filtered through early-'90s professionalism. As always, Crosby is supported by a cast of heavy-hitters, but where 1993's A Thousand Roads sometimes seemed weighed down by cameos (an emphasis on covers also helped shift the spotlight away from the man at the center), Croz is tastefully decorated with sly solos by Mark Knopfler and Wynton Marsalis, the focus forever remaining on Croz himself.