Big 1986

By the release of their third album, 1975's Dressed to Kill, Kiss were fast becoming America's top rock concert attraction, yet their record sales up to this point did not reflect their ticket sales. Casablanca label head Neil Bogart decided to take matters into his own hands, and produced the new record along with the band. The result is more vibrant sounding than its predecessor, 1974's sludgefest Hotter Than Hell, and the songs have more of an obvious pop edge to them. The best-known song on the album by far is the party anthem "Rock and Roll All Nite," but it was the track "C'Mon and Love Me" that became a regional hit in the Detroit area, giving the band their first taste of radio success.

After making a bid to become the '80s version of Steely Dan on the delightful Flaunt the Imperfection, China Crisis offered a fuller and more pop-oriented follow-up the next year. With the duo of Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley (replacing Walter Becker) sharing the producer's chair, the songs on What Price Paradise feature warm, intricate arrangements and prominent brass and strings. But while more than one Langer/Winstanley offering of this era overwhelmed its subject with such treatment – Elvis Costello's ill-fated Goodbye Cruel World is a good example – the sophisticated and melodic songs here prosper from the attention to detail.

One of the most glorious launches in history, the title track for the thrice-platinum The Final Countdown is so bombastically brilliant, such glorious garbage, that this nuclear hair assault could only spew from the vacuous '80s. But the full-tilt follow-up "Rock the Night" rules also: "You know it ain't easy/Running out of thrills." "Carrie" comes off a consummate butane ballad. Meanwhile, the rest of the disc packs so much power that Swedish superheroes Europe get away with all the processed pretension. In fact, the lofty ambition of "Danger on the Track," "Ninja," and "Cherokee" (each as tasty as its title) combines with heated drive and hot delivery to meld The Final Countdown into a unique portrait of propulsive prog and a worthy addition to any hard rock collection.

The second of three straight iconic Iron Maiden albums, Piece of Mind marks the debut of what many regard as the definitive Maiden lineup, with the arrival of new drummer Nicko McBrain. McBrain's ability to duplicate the complex patterns of the guitar and bass riffs gives the band a seamless ensemble unity. Even Steve Harris, whose busy basslines were never exactly groove-oriented, has never felt more integrated into the overall sound. Perhaps part of that feeling comes from the less frantic pace; the average tempo has slowed somewhat from the preceding album, and the hold-over punk influences still present there have been completely eradicated. Instead, we get a few moodier, heavier pieces (especially "Revelations") that make the album darker-sounding overall.

Ashkenazy and Previn are broadly agreed on choice of tempos throughout the work. At the very opening, after the magical silvery flutes, Ashkenazy is a shade more volatile and he certainly echoes the words "sparkle and dash" in the evocation of the "sledges dashing in a row, their bells jingling". Here his tenor soloist, Ryszard Karczykowski, brings an added degree of temperament to the singing. In the slow movement too, Natalia Troitskaya's contribution has all the freshness of Armstrong, yet there is a natural slavonic feeling too—the singing opens up that bit more, yet without a hint of crudeness.

In one regard, Queen II does indeed provide more of the same thing as on the band's debut. Certainly, of all the other albums in Queen's catalog it bears the closest resemblance to its immediate predecessor, particularly in its lean, hard attack and in how it has only one song that is well-known to listeners outside of their hardcore cult: in this case, it's "Seven Seas of Rhye," which is itself more elliptical than "Keep Yourself Alive," the big song from the debut. But these similarities are superficial and Queen II is a very different beast than its predecessor, an album that is richer, darker, and weirder, an album that finds Queen growing as a band by leaps and bounds.

"But it's Shakespeare's coffin!" Dupree exclaimed when he saw the enormous grand piano awaiting him in the studio on July 21, 1971, where on one of his numerous visits to Paris he had been asked to record. But regardless of the piano his puncher’s hands worked out on - usually it was a humble upright - Champion Jack Dupree expressed the essence of the blues.
During his prolific career Dupree often paid tribute to men he admired by improvising a blues to their memory. So he recorded The Death of Big Bill Broonzy, The Death of Luther King, President Kennedy Blues, and The Death of Louis, which gives its title to the present collection. Armstrong had died a few days earlier, on July 6, and Dupree evokes with feeling their days together as children in the Waifs’ Home…