Soaring soul from Enchantment – one of the smoothest groups of their generation, and an outfit who could sound equally great on the dancefloor or for more laidback listening! The harmonies here are really great – stepping out strongly, and often breaking with an extra effort that almost seems gospel-inspired, but without the cliches that usually mar work of that orientation.
Toss into the musical blender the spirits of Stevie Wonder, Crusaders, Van Halen, Sting, Dr. John, and Chick Corea; turn on the fire, low for easy simmering blues-rock at times, high for a fiery intensity that busts the borders between R&B and fusion. The result: the Dave Weckl Band's hard-to-categorize adventure, Rhythm of the Soul. Here, he celebrates his liberation from Corea's Elektric fold with a vengeance.
Despite the lag between the 1965 recording of his debut album The New Folk Sound of Terry Callier and his 1972 sophomore effort Occasional Rain, Callier was far from inactive – in addition to regularly playing on the Chicago club circuit, he also cut a series of extraordinary demos which have finally surfaced almost three decades later as First Light. In the nine studio tracks which comprise the collection – a superb 1971 solo benefit date is also included – it's possible to hear the foundations of the aesthetic perfected on his classic Cadet recordings of the mid-1970s; on early renditions of songs like "Ordinary Joe" and "Alley Wind Song," all the pieces are already in place, as the haunted soulfulness of Callier's vocals blends perfectly with waves of acoustic folk guitar and subtle jazz textures.
Always Never the Same… is the first strong album of the Kansas '90s comeback. Largely recorded at Abbey Road, with large portions of the album featuring strings by the London Symphony Orchestra, the record mainly consists of older material given new, sweeping symphonic treatments. These songs don't necessarily sound fresh, but they do sound revitalized, and the group's three new songs – "The Sky is Falling," "In Your Eyes," "Need to Know" – fit well into the group's repertoire, as does their overblown rendition of "Eleanor Rigby." The fusion of the orchestra and the rock works pretty well, even if it's a stretch to call this symphonic. It's an album for hardcore fans, but that's all that's left in 1998, and they'll be very pleased with this record.
Man were arguably at their peak in 1972, with guitars and solos still locked firmly on stun, and their improvisational powers so taut that it was impossible to predict what might happen next when they played. Certainly the U.K. tour that culminated at the London Rainbow remains one of the most fondly remembered of all the band's excursions, and though the sound quality is just a shade on the murky side, this four-songs-and-a-fiddly-bit souvenir captures all the magnificence of that crowning night.
As Freddie Roach's Blue Note career progressed, his work increasingly celebrated contemporary black culture, and accordingly developed a greater interest in funky, jukebox-ready grooves, a stylistic departure from his initial melodic finesse. Roach took both interests with him to Prestige, as demonstrated on The Soul Book/Mocha Motion, a U.K.-only two-fer compiling his first two albums for the label. Roach definitely brings the hard funk on parts of The Soul Book, but there's a laid-back, even meditative quality to others, which is surprising since his liner notes seem to suggest a concept album about the urban grit of Harlem.
For the first jazz release on his self-run Aleph label, Schifrin flew to Cologne, Germany to record this solid remake of Gillespiana, his 1960 five-movement concerto for Dizzy Gillespie with which Schifrin had been touring earlier in 1996. Designed to illustrate the sources that inspired Gillespie's music, the work remains one of the chameleonic Schifrin's best in a big-band idiom, particularly the dynamic Afro-Cuban-flavored blues "Toccata" that closes the concerto.
This 1998 studio recording by tenor sax legend Archie Shepp is a study in blues and ballads as the title might suggest, but it also marks the return of Shepp as a true bandleader. With pianist John Hicks, drummer Billy Drummond, and bassist George Mraz, Shepp sounds more inspired here than he has in literally decades. There is no crutch-like reliance on hard bop and blues stylings, nor is there any over-the-shoulder tosses at being the king of the avant-garde. Instead Shepp focuses on what he does best: being a fine stylist and one of the great blues phraseologists in the business. Opening with Coltrane's "Lonnie's Lament," Shepp goes one better than just saluting his old boss – he reharmonizes the tune and slows it down, making it a true elegy.