Dave Alvin Blackjack David (1998 2003) Sacd

This 16 song collection features studio performances that Dave Alvin recorded over the years for his own albums or for tribute albums but mainly they're just things he did for the pure kicks of playing music he loves with musicians he loves and admires. The songs range from some originals to interpretations of compositions by dear friends like Peter David Case, Chris Smither and the late Bill Morrissey to tunes written by heroes like Willie Dixon, Bob Dylan, Lil Hardin Armstrong, Earl Hooker and Marty Robbins. The music ranges from acoustic blues and ballads to electric barroom blues, folk/rock and even a little country/rock. There are contributions from dearly departed comrades like Chris Gaffney, Amy Farris and Bobby Lloyd Hicks as well as from old Blasters pals like Gene Taylor along with various members of The Guilty Men/Women/Ones plus help from brilliant accompanists like Greg Leisz, Cindy Cashdollar, Bob Glaub.

Behind blistering blues licks, TexiCali doubles as a roadtrip across Grammy winner Dave Alvin and Grammy nominee Jimmie Dale Gilmore’s beloved home states and the memories within, honoring shared musical influences, friends gone too soon and all they’ve endured along the way. These folk heroes have now evolved their unbreakable bond into a fully-fledged musical and songwriting partnership. TexiCali continues to bridge the distance between the two troubadours’ respective home bases of California (Alvin) and Texas (Gilmore).

Behind blistering blues licks, TexiCali doubles as a roadtrip across Grammy winner Dave Alvin and Grammy nominee Jimmie Dale Gilmore’s beloved home states and the memories within, honoring shared musical influences, friends gone too soon and all they’ve endured along the way. These folk heroes have now evolved their unbreakable bond into a fully-fledged musical and songwriting partnership. TexiCali continues to bridge the distance between the two troubadours’ respective home bases of California (Alvin) and Texas (Gilmore).

Synthetic Block (1998). Jonathan Block records as Synthetic Block. Synthetic Block is also the title of his debut release. He combines sequences and atmospheres to create little pockets of energy. It is all very tidy and systematic. Block sets his compositions with right angles and exact circles. He puts square pegs in square holes and round pegs in round holes. The scientific approach, while it seems harsh, works well for Block. The atmospheres are gentle and warm. The soundscapes are friendly and inviting. This is a very nice debut. It will appeal to fans of Ron Boots, Dave Fulton, and Paul Ellis…

The Dark Side of the Moon is the eighth album by the English rock band Pink Floyd. Originally released on 1 March 1973, on the label Harvest, it built on ideas explored in the band's earlier recordings and live shows, but departs from instrumental thematic by founding member Syd Barrett. The album explores themes including conflict, greed, the passage of time, and mental illness, the latter partly inspired by Barrett's deteriorating mental state. The Dark Side of the Moon was an immediate success; it topped the Billboard Top LPs & Tapes chart for a week and remained in the chart for 741 weeks from 1973 to 1988. With an estimated 45 million copies sold, it is Pink Floyd's most commercially successful album and one of the best-selling worldwide. It produced two singles, "Money" and "Us and Them", and is the band's most popular album among fans and critics, and has been ranked as one of the greatest albums of all time.

If this had only been Kronikles, 1963-1972 instead. It's the same problem with all the '60s greats who aren't named Neil Young. Their work rises like comets shot out of cannons in the early, R&B/Merseybeat beginnings, soaring ever higher toward the more expansive psychedelic era. Then they peak, level off around Woodstock, begin to descend in the earliest '70s, and then they plummet with a thud and a plop. To be fair, the Kinks made the tidiest, least offensive mess of it, and thus you could feel affection for them even when they sucked. Like, say, John Lennon or Pete Townshend, Ray Davies and his husky, Mickey Mouse-voiced sibling were capable of the odd later-'70s (or even later) gems that, if nothing like their fabled past, would remind of their prodigious talents in their early-twenties prime. Nevertheless, over a 35-year chronological presentation, the helpless spiral toward crap city is inescapable. All the more so with the junior Davies, who had such a smaller catalog to start. CD one plucks out the one or two songs Dave sang on each Kinks LP – blues-stomp covers, a few melodies Ray wrote for him, and some of Dave's earliest, best tunes. Most significantly, there's two huge vault-uncovered treats for '60s Kinks heads: a rare 1963 acetate of an unknown Dave number, the early-Beatles-like "I Believed You," the band's earliest unearthed recording from its days as the Ravens; and a 1969 Dave-alone eight-track, "Climb Your Wall," a nice piece of post-Dylan, post-Arthur happy shambles.