a Time For Ballads

Delving into the deepest recesses of raï, this compilation serves as a tribute to its roaring years, but also as a rejuvenation of the genre in its sulphurous, subterranean version. It seemed like a good idea to dig into nearly untraceable cassettes, thus confirming it’s in the oldest of Oranese pots that the very best of raï is to be found. Just 50 years ago, no one would have believed even a bit in a genre seemingly bound to forever turn round and round in its native Oran, laying low in one of its many coastal road clubs.

Carmen McRae (1922 - 1994) was one of the great jazz vocalists of the 20th century – next to Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan. Born in Harlem, New York, she played the piano at "Minton's Playhouse” in the 1940s, a club where the young beboppers like Dizzy Gillespie and Carmen's husband-to-be Kenny Clarke developed this new music. Next important career steps were an engagement with the Benny Carter band as a pianist and with Count Basie - as a singer. Having spent four years in Chicago from 1948 on, she finally signed an artist contract in her hometown New York and went on to release twelve albums over the next five years.

Linda Eder's third album demonstrated her growth as a singer; for the first time on one of her records, you could listen through whole songs without being reminded of Barbra Streisand. She remained largely dependent for her material on composer Frank Wildhorn, but at least on this occasion, for the most part, Wildhorn worked on a consistent set of songs with the same lyricist, Jack Murphy; they came up with a varied collection not dominated by generic romantic ballads, though there were a few, especially toward the end. (There were also Wildhorn songs from his musicals Jekyll and Hyde, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and The Civil War.)

When this music's done right, as it is by two masters like McCoy Tyner (piano) and Jackie McLean (alto sax), almost nothin' can touch it. Too often, though, it's not done by masters, and it's not done right. Even though it may seem to be about chops, dexterity, virtuosity, it's not. It's about feeling and intuition. It's not enough simply to master the moves, as so many young lions have done; you've got to have something to say. Yes, you need to master the idiom, but after you've done that, you need to acquire a unique voice and speak with originality and authority, not just rehash tired old phrases.
It's a mystery to me why this disc isn't better known. Recorded in the late 80s–not especially a stellar time for jazz–perhaps it just fell through the cracks. Or maybe it's because it's under 40 minutes long. And McLean sits out for the last two cuts, so he's only on board for about a half an hour. And half the cuts feature the funkified Jaco-esque e-bass of Marcus Miller (Ron Carter's on the other half), so there's somewhat of a discontinuity of tone and mood. But that shouldn't stop anyone, at least not in my view. When he plays, McLean plays brilliantly, spinning out fresh ideas and gloriously articulated solos. And the compositions, ranging from bop burners ("Spur of the Moment") to sultry ballads ("You Taught My Heart to Sing," "No Flowers Please") to Latin numbers ("Travelin'" and "It's About Time," my favorite tracks) to a bloozy romp ("Hip-Toe"), all by Tyner (except "No Flowers Please"), feature his trademark genius for melodic ingenuity and rhythmic drive.
Tyner sounds as good as I've ever heard him: he's got the savvy and maturity of his later period combined with the restless innovation of his early days. His solo on "Travelin'" absolutely stands out. And if McLean has lost just a bit of his earlier fire, he more than makes up for it with a rich, burnished tone on alto, among the most attractive of any man to ever pick up the smaller horn. John Faddis plays trumpet on two cuts, and it's great to hear him in this setting. He's a player who has always struck me as being better as a sideman than as a leader. Blessed with outrageous chops, he has sometimes struggled to integrate his playing into a group setting, but he does so marvelously here. Al Foster on drums, what with his long stint with Miles through several of his iterations, perfectly fits into this slightly eclectic setting, and he easily and naturally fits in with longtime Miles bandmate Marcus Miller.

Capitol/UMe will delight the countless millions of fans of two global superstars with the 16 November release of the “lost album” Glen Campbell Sings For The King.

"From A Room: Volume 2" is the third studio album by American singer-songwriter Chris Stapleton, released on December 1, 2017 through Mercury Nashville. Stapleton released "From A Room: Volume 1" in May 2017, and confirmed the release of Volume 2 for later that year. Like its predecessor, the album takes its name from Nashville's RCA Studio A, where the recording sessions took place. Robert Crawford of Rolling Stone described it as "lean and live-sounding" while "Stapleton's voice remains as titanic ever, but on these nine tracks, he packs an equally sized punch as both picker and bandleader".

Nina Nesbitt is set to take her continuing rising star status to the next level with the news that she will release her eagerly anticipated new album ‘Älskar’.

Jim Croce In the music industry, arguably the worst tragedy that can befall an artist is to die in his or her prime, when just beginning to break through to the mainstream and reach people on a national or international level. One such artist was Jim Croce, a songwriter with a knack for both upbeat, catchy singles and empathetic, melancholy ballads. Though Croce only recorded a few studio albums before an untimely plane crash, he continues to be remembered posthumously. Croce appealed to fans as a common man, and it was not a gimmick – he was a father and husband who went through a series of blue-collar jobs. And whether he used dry wit, gentle emotions, or sorrow, Croce sang with a rare form of honesty and power.