Up From Slavery

Luigi Boccherini - Flieder-Trio - String Trios op.14
EAC+LOG+CUE | FLAC: 363 MB | Full Artwork: 48 MB | 5% Recovery Info
Label/Cat#: MDG # MDG L 3378 | Country/Year: Germany 1990
Genre: Classical | Style: Viennese School

"These recordings by the Flieder Trio were taped way back in 1990 but the passing of more than two decades has not dimmed the refreshingly spontaneous playing that is coming "straight from the heart", and the spirited and consistently brilliant interpretations are still as alluring as ever before. A generously filled well annotated disc that should fill one of the many gaps in the Boccherini discography. Recommended, even to die-hard periodists." ~ classical.net

Pieced together from outtakes and much-labored-over songs, Sticky Fingers manages to have a loose, ramshackle ambience that belies both its origins and the dark undercurrents of the songs. It's a weary, drug-laden album — well over half the songs explicitly mention drug use, while the others merely allude to it — that never fades away, but it barely keeps afloat…

In a way, this is the veteran duo's version of Fathers and Sons, a meeting of old black bluesmen with young white admirers that Muddy Waters and Otis Spann cut with Mike Bloomfield and Paul Butterfield…

Carted to Alabama under the cloud of dark politics, a band drew a glistening straight line from punk to country to soul to grand theater. On November 8th, the day after the 2016 election, Welsh-bred, Chicago-based musician and visual artist Jon Langford and a crew of merry-makers and alchemists filed into the NuttHouse studio, a one-story former bank building in Sheffield, Ala. (population 9,039). The musicians from Chicago, Nashville, Los Angeles, and just over the Tennessee River bridge made the pilgrimage to a place of legend and myth, where music runs as deep as the river’s current, to see what might come of it all.

Although it ironically coincided with the compact disc format's slow but inexorable march toward likely extinction, the third millennium's first decade witnessed an incredible boom in CD reissues of obscure ‘70s hard rock bands; bands whose careers quickly floundered or never even took off due to any number of reasons, like the subject of this review, London's Steel Mill. Like many of these commercially failed entities, Steel Mill made the fatal mistake of attempting to partake in the relatively isolated worlds of both progressive and heavy rock, instead of committing to just one or the other, and so their sole LP, 1972's Green Eyed God, fell through the cracks of consumer tastes and wasn't even released in the U.K. until 1975, three years after the group's demise. Be that as it may, few heavy prog bands favored such a dramatic clash between their artier musical pretensions and more visceral instrumental instincts than this London quintet, resulting in fascinatingly schizophrenic numbers boasting as much inner city grime and bluster as they do pastoral purity and whimsy…