Most people discover this recording when a friend runs breathlessly into their living space shouting something like "You've got to hear this! This guy is unbelievable!" One listen confirms. Groom was apparently a protege of Duane Allman, and he does sport the same devil-may-care attitude in his slide guitar playing, but he was his own man. Evidently one of the long line of bluesman (albiet white and ordinary looking) to succumb to drink and drugs and plain bad luck, Groom sang with conviction and played like a man possessed. This recording features pristine sonic quality, and the live in the room sound of a gathering of friends playing mostly for themselves. The song choices may look cliche at first glance, but Groom makes all of them his own. Mick Taylor plays (somewhat uncharistically) tasteful support, and Groom supports Taylor well on his solos.
Most people discover this recording when a friend runs breathlessly into their living space shouting something like "You've got to hear this! This guy is unbelievable!" One listen confirms. Groom was apparently a protege of Duane Allman, and he does sport the same devil-may-care attitude in his slide guitar playing, but he was his own man. Evidently one of the long line of bluesman (albiet white and ordinary looking) to succumb to drink and drugs and plain bad luck, Groom sang with conviction and played like a man possessed. This recording features pristine sonic quality, and the live in the room sound of a gathering of friends playing mostly for themselves. The song choices may look cliche at first glance, but Groom makes all of them his own. Mick Taylor plays (somewhat uncharistically) tasteful support, and Groom supports Taylor well on his solos.
In the last years of the 1970s, Terry Riley seemed to be everywhere; it would not have been unusual for a Riley fan in 1979, through only a moderate amount of travel, to catch him in two different cities in different months of the year. At this point, Riley was delivering hours-long concerts, no two the same, playing from the advertised start time until the hall was no longer available for the evening. Riley was utilizing a Yamaha Organ, modified to accommodate two outputs, and a secret weapon, "The Shadow," a box built by Chester Wood that was an early digital delay. It was used in addition to the ancient Revox tape delay that Riley had employed for more than a decade in concerts that, by this time, invariably began with Riley stating, "I do have a tape recorder up here, but there is nothing on the tape. I use it to create some of the loop effects that you will hear tonight. Everything you will hear me play will be live."
This may be the single most powerful piece of music that the Kronos Quartet has ever recorded, and perhaps that Terry Riley has ever written. This is because Requiem for Adam is so personal, so direct, and experiential. Requiem for Adam was written after the death of Kronos violinist David Harrignton's son. He died, in 1995, at the age of 16, from an aneurysm in his coronary artery. Riley, who is very close to the Harringtons and has a son the same age, has delved deep into the experience of death and resurrection, or, at the very least, transmutation. Requiem for Adam is written in three parts, or movements. The first, "Ascending the Heaven Ladder," is based on a four-note pattern that re-harmonizes itself as it moves up the scale. There are many variations and series based on each of these notes and their changing harmonics, and finally a 5/4 dance as it moves to the highest point on the strings. The drone-like effect is stunning when the listener realizes that the drone is changing shape too, ascending the scale, moving ever upward and taking part in the transmutation of harmony.