"…Hickox's set has achieved the status of a classic for Britten recordings." ~sa-cd.net
Black Moon is the eighth studio album, and the first in four years, by progressive rock band Emerson, Lake & Palmer, released in 1992. The album received mixed reviews. It did not receive the acclaim of Tarkus or Brain Salad Surgery…
With everything shut by nine, Ben Holton and Rob Glover were trapped in bedrooms; too young to escape the watchful eye of parents. They were contemplating starting a band. New sounds emerge from across the hallway. A sticker covered door, entry denied by an older brother sat behind blasting out pirate radio; not suitable for young ears. Perhaps a familiar scene from the 90s…
Back in the 1970‘s Friedemann Witecka, who was born in Freiburg in south-western Germany, slung his guitar over his shoulder and set off for London, England in search of creative inspiration. The 1980‘s took him to Stuttgart where he made a name for himself as head of the Biber label and as a talent scout and producer, and above all with his own music: harmony-intensive and multicoloured instrumental works between the poles of folk, chamber music and jazz. With his impeccably beautiful sound sketches Friedemann swam persistently against the (pop) main stream and in doing so created original and high-quality accents on the German scene.
Black Moon is the eighth studio album, and the first in four years, by progressive rock band Emerson, Lake & Palmer, released in 1992. The album received mixed reviews. It did not receive the acclaim of Tarkus or Brain Salad Surgery…
If Mozart gave the concerto of his time its ultimate shape, it is because he transferred to it all the characteristics of the opera aria, giving the cantabile – which he often mentions in his correspondence – most significant importance and transforming the vocal virtuosic runs instrumental figurations. The soloist is a character whose rhetoric gives the orchestral material presented in the introduction a deeper, more intimate and more sensitive dimension. This constitutes the raison d’être of the relationship between the individual and the group, between the solos and the tuttis.
1960s singer-songwriter Kevin Ayers sings ‘Funny how the situation changes’, at the start of The Unfairground, his first album for fifteen years. How true that appears to be, given the biographical facts surrounding this formerly psychedelic, and almost mythic, ex-Soft Machine operator. Running to seed, as the story goes, in the south of France, he gets re-discovered, hauled back to the UK and a batch of new songs – recorded on the hoof in a range of locations – is conjured around Ayers’ wry, addictive, but ever so slightly broken, vocals.