Toulouse' sextet Martine released a self-titled debut album that introduce some dreamy and well structured tracks. Their vigorous and lavish music is an eclectic mix of the Seventies' styles like Robert Wyatt's take on Jazz-Rock, Progressive rock and British Art Pop, but with a determinedly modern approach.
On sait l'ampleur des pillages des collections, d'art en France par l'occupant nazi. Nul n'ignore plus l'existence des listes Otto - recensant les auteurs, juifs ou antinazis, qui devaient être à jamais bannis de tout catalogue - et que le syndicat des éditeurs français appliqua dès les premières heures de l'Occupation avec un zèle certain. Personne, avant Martine Poulain, ne s'était inquiété du devenir des bibliothèques dans la France de 1940 à 1944…
If Wilson Pickett could cover the Archies and Al Green could interpret the Bee Gees, why shouldn't Charles Bradley put his spin on Black Sabbath? Bradley's deep, soulful reading of Black Sabbath's "Changes" (from 1972's Vol. 4) became something of a viral sensation when it first surfaced on a Record Store Day single in 2013. Now it's become the title track and cornerstone of Bradley's third album, and in this context it doesn't sound like a novelty, but like the striking, deeply felt performance it truly is. As on his two previous albums, Bradley is one of the most authentic-sounding artists in the 2010s retro-soul sweepstakes on Changes. The production by Thomas Brenneck is straightforward but naturalistically effective, and puts Bradley's rough but passionate vocals in engaging relief with the accompanists. (Most of the album features the Menahan Street Band backing Bradley, though the Budos Band does the honors on two cuts.) Most of the songs on Changes are new, but they sound like they could have been prize Atlantic or Stax rarities from the mid-'60s, and the performances honor the sound and the emotional power of classic soul.