Half a Sixpence (1967)

The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, no strangers to weirdness on their prior 1967 album Part One, had still often stuck to relatively straightforward, concise, and pop-flavored songs on that LP. Here they stretched out into less structured, more avowedly psychedelic (and indeed experimental) territory, with mixed results. "Smell of Incense" (covered for a small hit by Southwest FOB) was sublime psych-pop. Yet "Suppose They Give a War and No One Comes" was just some fool - actually the band's chief investor, lyricist, and tambourine player, Bob Markley - grafting silly, self-consciously freaky recitation of a vintage 1936 Franklin Roosevelt speech onto an ominous fuzz guitar backup. Other cuts like "In the Arena" and "Overture - WCPAEB Part II" were free-form psychedelic creepiness without the strong content of, say, likely influence Frank Zappa…

Dexter Gordon - Take The 'A' Train (1967) {Black Lion BLCD760133 rel 1989}
EAC rip (secure mode) | FLAC (tracks)+CUE+LOG -> 455 Mb | MP3 @320 -> 161 Mb
Full Artwork @ 300 dpi (jpg) -> 24 Mb | 5% repair rar
© 1967, 1989 Black Lion Records / Phonoco | BLCD760133
Jazz / Bop / Hard Bop / Saxophone

During a two-day period (July 20-21, 1967) tenor-saxophonist Dexter Gordon and his quartet (pianist Kenny Drew, bassist Niels Pederson and drummer Albert "Tootie" Heath) recorded enough music to fill up three CDs, all of which have been released by the English Black Lion label. Four of the six standards on this hard-swinging set ("But Not for me," "Take the 'A' Train," "Blues Walk" and "Love for Sale") are over ten minutes long while the other two ("For All We Know" and "I Guess I'll Have to Hang My Tears out to Dry" are a little more concise). Throughout, Dexter Gordon is in consistently creative form, making this CD well worth getting by his fans.

Lou Donaldson does attempt to loosen up a bit with Mr. Shing-A-Ling, but the whole affair is a bit stilted and misconceived. Not quite the full-fledged electric funk workout that was becoming commonplace for old-guard soul-jazz musicians in the late '60s, but not quite the bop-inflected soul-jazz of the early '60s. either, Mr. Shing-A-Ling falls into a netherworld that won't connect either with jazz purists or fans of grooving jazz-funk. When the group does try to get funky on the record, the results just sound lazy – there's no spark to the rhythms, or to Donaldson's melody lines, especially on the embarrassing cover of the pop hit "Ode to Billie Joe." When the quintet settles into a midtempo vamp, Donaldson, trumpeter Blue Mitchell, and organist Lonnie Smith do spin out some good solos, but the lack of energy and enthusiasm the group has for the material makes Mr. Shing-A-Ling a bit of a tiring listen.