JD Allen Bloom (2014)

While the speed-freak adrenaline heaviness and shrouded occult mystery of Tyranny and Mutation is the watermark for Blue Öyster Cult's creative invention, it is Secret Treaties that is widely and critically regarded as the band's classic. Issued in 1974, Secret Treaties is the purest distillation of all of BÖC's strengths. Here the songs are expansive, and lush in their textures. The flamboyance is all here, and so are the overdriven guitar riffs provided by Buck Dharma and Eric Bloom. But there is something else, texturally, that moves these songs out from the blackness and into the shadows.

Daevid Allen was one of the founders of the British progressive rock band the Soft Machine in 1966. After recording just one album with the group, he became the founder/leader of Gong, which he left in 1973 to begin a solo career (though his first solo album, Banana Moon, was released in 1971 while he was still in the group). Allen explored his quirky, folky take on rock throughout the '70s and '80s on albums like 1976's Good Morning and 1983's Alien in New York. His solo work also included collaborations with underground rock impresario Kramer like 1993's Who's Afraid? and 1996's Hit Men, which was released on Kramer's Shimmy Disc label. Allen returned in 1999 with Money Doesn't Make It, followed a year later by Stroking the Tail of the Bird. Nectans Glen also followed in 2000.

English singer-songwriter Jon Allen follows up Dead Man’s Suit and Sweet Defeat with his third album, Deep River. The most immediately arresting thing about Jon Allen is his voice, which we can only imagine he has acquired from a Bluesman after beating him in a game of cards in a bar somewhere in New Orleans. Allen’s haunting voice, which sends shivers down the spine, conveys pathos, pain and wisdom in equal measure. If he sang the phone book it would sound profound. Thankfully, Allen has no recourse to such banality, and he has once again assembled a strong collection of thoughtful and striking songs. Deep River, as even the name suggests, has strong blues roots, and the occasional strains of the harmonica shores up the conjured illusion of a wander across the American south.

There is no greater paragon of tenor saxophonist taste than Harry Allen. While the fickle winds of prevailing styles continue to blow this or that way, Allen stands tall like the mighty oak, unswayed by fad fashions and firmly rooted to the music of the Great American Songbook. On this appealing date, Allen visits the music of George Gershwin, Cole Porter, and Duke Ellington.