As Cameo rode both the critical and commercial success resulting from their debut, Cardiac Arrest, Chocolate City took the group straight from the road and right into the studio to record its follow-up. Because of this, the overall quality of Ugly Ego suffers mildly. It's uneven at points, but this easily could be attributed to erratic song sequencing, something that thankfully can be rectified in the digital age by the custom programming button. The band was developing its definitive sound at this point - the sound later heard on Secret Omen that would usher Cameo from being just another funk band to funk overlords. The uptempo "Insane" would later go on to be a fan favorite, and the slower moments found on "Give Love a Chance," "Friend to Me," and "Two of Us" prove that Cameo were more than just a good-time party band, but serious soulful balladeers when the time was appropriate.
The subliminal empathy shared by bassist Scott Colley, saxophonist Chris Potter, and drummer Bill Stewart is masterfully illustrated on Colley’s album, This Place. Colley’s tutelage with Charlie Haden clearly informs his knack for developing warm, simpatico lines that are nearly always melodically astute yet never showy. On originals like his hypnotic title track, Colley can create a simple bass figure that grounds and propels the gorgeous melodies of Potter and the textural and rhythmic splendor of Stewart. Colley’s most sensual performance on this date, however, is his haunting “Long Lake,” where he delivers a heartfelt counter melody beneath Potter’s raspy tenor and Stewart’s shimmering brushes…
When Colin MacIntyre's debut Mull Historical Society single Barcode Bypass (Rough Trade) was named NME's Debut Single of the Year in 2000, and it then received it's first daytime airplay (all 7 minutes of it) on Radio 1 - Jo Whiley's show, it was clear a truly original song-writing talent had emerged as if fully formed - and from the unlikely Atlantic outpost of the isle of Mull, in the Scottish Hebrides (population of 2,500 people, 28,234 sheep).
When Miles Davis released Live-Evil in 1970, fans were immediately either taken aback or keenly attracted to its raw abstraction. It was intense and meandering at the same time; it was angular, edgy, and full of sharp teeth and open spaces that were never resolved. Listening to the last two CDs of The Cellar Door Sessions 1970, Sony's massive six-disc box set that documents six of the ten dates Davis and his band recorded during their four-day engagement at the fabled club, is a revelation now. The reason: it explains much of Live-Evil's live material with John McLaughlin.