Birthright 34

Since the end of the last decade, James Blood Ulmer has been involved in a conscious investigation of the blues as a force for reinvention. On various labels and with a varying group of musicians, Blood has fused, melded, and strained the genre through everything from funk to psychedelic rock and jazz with mixed but always provocative results. Guitarist and producer Vernon Reid has been a constant on Ulmer's last two offerings: 2001's Memphis Blood: The Sun Sessions and 2003's No Escape from the Blues: The Electric Ladyland Sessions. The quest continues on Birthright, and in some senses the stakes are even higher because this is a completely solo recording. Reid produces but doesn't perform. Ulmer is the only musician on the entire record. He plays guitars and flute, and he sings…

This concert performance is quite unusual: an unaccompanied recital by the great baritonist Hamiet Bluiett. Although its subtitle is "A Solo Blues Concert," the "blues" refers to the feeling that Bluiett puts into his music rather than the structure of his originals itself. "In Tribute to Harry Carney" is a highpoint. Bluiett is in top form during this adventurous but fairly melodic performance.

Over three days in April 2001, James "Blood" Ulmer and producer/guitarist Vernon Reid (yes, of Living Colour fame) went into the legendary Sun Studios in Memphis and kicked out some of the greasiest, knottiest, most surreal blues music ever. The blues have always been part of Ulmer's iconography, even when deeply entrenched in the harmolodic theory he helped to develop with Ornette Coleman. Over the years on his albums for DIW, Ulmer has with mixed results attempted to dig into the blues wholesale, but until now, with the aid of Vernon Reid and a cast of stellar if not well-known musicians, Blood hasn't been able to indulge his obsession to the hilt. All 14 songs on Memphis Blood are covers, many of them blues classics from the canon, with a few from Ulmer's own shrine book…

File under "Yes." When this version of the band couldn't obtain rights to the name, they put their album out under their combined names, but it's still Yes by any other name. Jon Anderson's tenor wails through spacy lyrics, Rick Wakeman constructs cathedrals of synthesized sound, Steve Howe rips high-pitched guitar leads, and Bill Bruford makes his drums sound like timpani. For all that, it's a pedestrian effort for these veterans, not as bombastic as some of their stuff, not as inspired as others, but it definitely has the "Yes" sound. "She Gives Me Love" even refers to "Long Distance Runaround."