Bernard Dadié

Bernard Allison got some valuable advice from his father, Luther, before the latter's death in 1997: "Don't be afraid to go outside of the blues," he said. "Don't let them label you like they did me." Bernard has obviously taken that advice to heart; his solo albums have been a rich mixture of rock, funk, blues, and R&B. Most of his recordings have been released in Europe, where he has made his home for a decade. The release of Higher Power comes a little while after his return to the States, and reflects a lifetime of both good times and bad. The album's most noticeable lyrical element is the recurring theme of recovery from addiction – "I've Learned My Lesson" (from which the album's explicitly AA-derived title is taken) and "New Life I'm In" are two of the most explicit blues-based odes to a 12-step program since Stevie Ray Vaughan's "Wall of Denial." On the funkier, less pious side are the soulful "Raggedy and Dirty" (charmingly, he pronounces that word "raggly") and the funky, vaguely misogynistic "Woman Named Trouble".

When it comes to the blues, it seems like there are two different camps – those who are staunch authentic blues enthusiasts, and those who like their blues amped up with a decidedly rock approach. On his 1994 live release, No Mercy, singer/guitarist Bernard Allison certainly falls under the latter category. As with the majority of modern-day blues-rockers, Allison focuses mostly on covers of vintage blues tunes, with the odd original (or more accurately, one lone original – "Next Generation") thrown in for good measure. With Allison backed by a group of studio pros, No Mercy captures blues at its most well-honed – the complete opposite of the grittiness of the original bluesmen – especially on such tracks as the album-opening "Rock Me Baby" and "Breakin' Up Somebody's Home." Also included are a pair of tributes to Bernard's father, Luther Allison ("Change Your Way of Living" and "Help") as well as a reading of "Tin Pan Alley," which is very reminiscent of Stevie Ray Vaughan's version (on his classic Couldn't Stand the Weather release). If you're an admirer of modern-day blues-rock, then No Mercy is certainly worth a spin.

This 2-disc release of Herrmann's first score for Harryhausen is a lavish delight. Firstly, both discs are presented in full stereophonic sound - the full-bodied monaural descriptor being entirely wrong for the disc-1 complete score. This presentation utilizes the same remastered music stems that the Sony blu-ray disc offers, and is sonically splendid. The second disc is the original soundtrack album re-recording, all stereo except one track, and it's the familiar version that's been a collector's item for many years. The soundtrack album was conducted by Muir Mathieson, and contrary to Herrmann's opinion of it, it's a robust presentation of the original score. A masterpiece, right up there with the likes of Moross' THE BIG COUNTRY, North's SPARTACUS, Rosza's EL CID, and Jarre's LAWRENCE OF ARABIA.

This is the movie that gave us the phrase "Klaatu barada nikto!" As befits the film that kicked off the Atomic Age's obsession with flying saucers and giant robots, Bernard Herrmann's score is the last word in 1950s sci-fi. Although many of its elements have become cliches over the years, the original has lost none of its power. Thanks to the many eerie, theremin-drenched passages, it's almost impossible to hear that instrument without thinking about guys in space suits. Other great moments: tinkling space pianos, ominous robot monster chords, and weird, plangent orchestrations. One of Herrmann's most visionary and influential scores.

In collaboration with Litto Enterprises Inc., Music Box Records is very proud to present one of its most ambitious releases yet - a classic Bernard Herrmann score from one of his last efforts and an important milestone in his immense career for Brian De Palma´s classic melodrama Obsession (1976) written by Paul Schrader and starring Geneviève Bujold, Cliff Robertson and John Lithgow. In a career often spent paying tribute to Alfred Hitchcock with the likes of Dressed to Kill, Blow Out and Body Double, Obsession even today stands as De Palma’s ultimate fever dream homage to the director who’d made Bernard Herrmann a household name as the romantic master of musical suspense during an eight film collaboration, no more so than with 1958s Vertigo. Yet Obsession’s reincarnation of that masterpiece showed just how devious De Palma always was in his admiration, cloaking a truly seditious plot twist that would’ve given even Hitchcock pause within sleek, star-filtered visuals. Obsession remains his most fervently romantic, and dare one say innocent attempt to recreate the studio gloss of a time when outright violence and sex were left to the mind’s eye, its rage and sensuality truly made explicit in its music. It’s a powerful, stylistic subtlety that increasingly made Obsession into the filmmaker’s most discerning cult film.