David Fathead Newman Diamond Head

Live At Pompeii is the project from David Gilmour, and follows his critically acclaimed studio album Rattle That Lock from September of 2015. Live at Pompeii is available in multiple formats: a 2 CD live album, a standard DVD and Blu-Ray concert film, a Deluxe Boxset including the 2 CD live album and 1 Blu-Ray of the entire live concert and bonus content, and a special 4 LP Vinyl package…

For their expanded 2002 reissue of Randy Newman's classic Sail Away album, Rhino/Reprise unearthed five previously unissued gems. Of these, arguably the most notable is the studio version of "Maybe I'm Doing It Wrong," originally released on the stop-gap Randy Newman Live album; it was left off the album because Newman and his producers felt that he didn't capture the song but, decades later, this sounds every bit as good, if not better, than the issued live version. Of the remaining four bonus tracks, only "Let It Shine" isn't an alternate version or demo, and while it's not quite up to the high standards of the other songs on Sail Away, it's still quite strong. If the early version of "Dayton, Ohio – 1903" isn't radically different, the early version of "Sail Away" is – bouncy and bluesy, its humor more apparent. Finally, the demo of "You Can Leave Your Hat On" is a little rawer than the album version and wholly welcome. Though these five bonus tracks are the main attraction for Randy Newman fans, the remastered sound, the liner notes by David Wild, introduction by Randy, and rare photos make this another wonderful reissue in Rhino's line of Newman expanded editions.

The late songwriter David Ackles used his third album to further separate himself from the California tunesmith Cosa Nostra. Ackles was always a horse of a different color anyway. While comparisons to Randy Newman are natural and, in places even valid, they fall short of the mark. Ackles' music is much darker, already deeply entrenched in the American Gothic his fourth album would be named after. While the post-Tin Pan Alley stylings of Newman are evident here, Ackles' inspiration is in the original texts and not his Cali counterparts. Other sides of Ackles come from John Stewart and the folk revival, and no less than Scott Walker's early work and Jacques Brel. Subway to the Country portends itself a rootsier record, but it is rooted only in the tradition of American song itself. From the bleak vaudevillian cabaret of "Main Street Saloon" to the shimmering string arrangements and chamber textures in "That's No Reason to Cry" to the surreal muted winds and brass in "Woman River," Ackles is like a Western Kurt Weill. His knowledge of song form and nuance is encyclopedic, and his command over his singing voice is total. He can rumble smooth, swinging blues in the lower register as he does on the latter track, or shift it into loopy swirls and theatrical splashes as he does on "Inmates of the Institution."

The late songwriter David Ackles used his third album to further separate himself from the California tunesmith Cosa Nostra. Ackles was always a horse of a different color anyway. While comparisons to Randy Newman are natural and, in places even valid, they fall short of the mark. Ackles' music is much darker, already deeply entrenched in the American Gothic his fourth album would be named after. While the post-Tin Pan Alley stylings of Newman are evident here, Ackles' inspiration is in the original texts and not his Cali counterparts. Other sides of Ackles come from John Stewart and the folk revival, and no less than Scott Walker's early work and Jacques Brel. Subway to the Country portends itself a rootsier record, but it is rooted only in the tradition of American song itself. From the bleak vaudevillian cabaret of "Main Street Saloon" to the shimmering string arrangements and chamber textures in "That's No Reason to Cry" to the surreal muted winds and brass in "Woman River," Ackles is like a Western Kurt Weill. His knowledge of song form and nuance is encyclopedic, and his command over his singing voice is total. He can rumble smooth, swinging blues in the lower register as he does on the latter track, or shift it into loopy swirls and theatrical splashes as he does on "Inmates of the Institution."

Ackles' self-titled debut LP introduced a singer/songwriter quirky even by the standards of Elektra records, possibly the most adventurous independent label of the 1960s. Ackles was a pretty anomalous artist of his time, with a low, grumbling voice that was uncommercial but expressive, and similar to Randy Newman's. As a composer, Ackles bore some similarities to Newman, as well in his downbeat eccentricity and mixture of elements from pop, folk, and theatrical music. All the same, this impressive maiden outing stands on its own, though comparisons to Brecht/Weill (in the songwriting and occasional circus-like tunes) and Tim Buckley (in the arrangements and phrasing) hold to some degree too. This is certainly his most rock-oriented record, courtesy of the typically tasteful, imaginative Elektra arrangements, particularly with Michael Fonfara's celestial organ and the ethereal guitar riffs (which, again, recall those heard on Buckley's early albums).

Solo debut album of Boulevard singer David Forbes, co-written and produced by Steve Newman. Out June 22 on AOR Blvd Records. Tales of the Past is a fine example of well-produced, well written songs.