Like so many Willie Nelson albums of the 2010s, Ride Me Back Home bears a title that appears to be a vague nod to Nelson's mortality. Unlike, say, God's Problem Child or Last Man Standing, the cloud doesn't appear to hang so heavy on Ride Me Back Home, but maybe that's because the album is amiably unkempt in a way its immediate predecessors were not. Some of that is due to how Nelson and his longtime producer Buddy Cannon don't rely heavily on original material this time around. The pair write four originals, while Nelson collaborates with Sonny Throckmorton on the elegiac title track.
In May 1965, Lou Reed was a 23-year-old staff songwriter and session musician for Pickwick Records in New York, churning out doo-wop and rock ’n’ roll “soundalike” singles to be sold in drugstores. There he was introduced to his future Velvet Underground bandmate, the Welsh-born John Cale, when the label put the two of them together for a house band called The Primitives. (They would go on to make the jokey novelty song “The Ostrich.”) Reed could write teen pop hits at a rapid clip, but his real creative focus essentially starts with this foundational document, Words & Music, May 1965, which he made with Cale and which includes the first known recordings of some of the Velvets’ most well-known songs. There’s almost nothing thematically linking his former dime-store hits-for-hire and these strands of The Velvet Underground’s underbelly-surveying DNA. But the collection (the first in a series of archival releases) does highlight the songwriting discipline and rigor that would see Reed through countless stylistic changes and a 50-plus-year career as one of America’s most important artists.
French electronic music guru Jean Michel Jarre returns to recording after a seven-year studio hiatus. Many have accused Jarre of being in a musical rut since the '90s, but as evidenced by Téo and Téa, he may be retro but he's far from tired. This album includes the bad-ass title track single that has been taking over dancefloors in Europe since the end of 2006; its four on the floor house rhythm is shaded and textured with all manner of narrated voices, programmed analog synths, polythrythms and all manner of slamming, over the top house. Its cheesy sounds blend seamlessly with the more substantive ones. Jarre collaborates with string arranger and guitarist Claude Samard who also uses all manner of digital equipment to get delays on orchestral textures and sonically enhanced analog sounds to behave…
Ssssh was Ten Years After's new release at the time of their incendiary performance at the Woodstock Festival in August, 1969. As a result, it was their first hit album in the U.S., peaking at number 20 in September of that year. This recording is a primer of British blues-rock of the era, showcasing Alvin Lee's guitar pyrotechnics and the band's propulsive rhythm section…
The only Beatles album that could really be classified as inessential, mostly because it wasn't really a proper album at all, but a soundtrack that only utilized four new Beatles songs. (The rest of the album was filled out with "Yellow Submarine," "All You Need Is Love," and a George Martin score.) What's more, two of the four new tracks were little more than pleasant throwaways that had been recorded during 1967 and early 1968…
Overtime is really two CDs in one. On the instrumentals, particularly "Bass City" and "Blue in Green," guitarist Lee Ritenour sounds a lot like Wes Montgomery and he leads his group (which features either Ernie Watts or Eric Marienthal on tenor) through some relatively straight-ahead numbers filled with soulful and creative playing. However the five vocals numbers are much more in the R&B/smooth vein and are largely throwaways despite the occasional presence of Ivan Lins. Clearly Ritenour was going for variety on this project but will probably only satisfy his greatest fans. The jazz listeners will be turned off by the vocals and the pop/smooth fans will probably only tolerate some of the more adventurous originals. Ritenour sounds fine in both settings but probably should have recorded twice as much music and split this CD into two.
With the death of Chick Webb in 1939, his big band was temporarily without a leader. Since Ella Fitzgerald had become the orchestra's most popular attraction, she was put at its head even though she had very little to do with the music. The Webb management, musical director Teddy McRae and trumpeter Taft Jordan actually ran the show, but Fitzgerald was still virtually the only female singer (other than Ina Ray Hutton) to be the leader of her own big band during the era. The experiment would last for two years, until Fitzgerald started her own remarkably successful solo career in 1941. While most of the band's recordings after Webb's death featured Fitzgerald's vocals, the four radio broadcasts that comprise this two-CD set have the orchestra taking instrumentals on over one-third of the material…