Pianist Larry Vuckovich revisits his landmark 1980 recording on this combined reissue and new release. Prefiguring the much-lauded work of Dave Douglas and the Tiny Bell Trio, guitarist Brad Shepik, and even John Zorn, the Yugoslavian-born Vuckovich combines the ethnic melodies and rhythms from his native Balkans with modal jazz. Never as avant-garde as his contemporaries, Vuckovich nonetheless pushes the boundaries of both jazz and folk styles. The original tracks featured the brilliant vibe playing of Bobby Hutcherson, who unfortunately does not reprise his role on the four new pieces.
The line dividing black gospel and so-called secular music has always been a thin one, and musicians have rarely been afraid to step over it. In the 1920s, the blind singer “Arizona” Juanita Dranes wed ragtime and boogie—rhythms associated with saloons and barrelhouses—to Holiness movement hymns. Later, Mahalia Jackson, who refused to record secular records, nonetheless achieved massive popularity outside the sanctified confines of the gospel scene. A true pioneer, Sister Rosetta Tharpe scandalized the church by performing in nightclubs, practically inventing rock & roll in the process. By the early 1970s, blockbuster Stax singles by the Staple Singers proved artists could exist comfortably in both worlds, or suggested that perhaps these distinct spheres actually overlapped.
Backing off a bit from the outright funky fusion of 1972's Gypsy Man, Terra Nova nonetheless finds saxophonist Robin Kenyatta still indulging his newfound love of electricity and rhythmically altered jazz-funk tempered by his newfound love of Caribbean music. This Michael Cuscuna-produced date showcases Kenyatta's alto in three different settings – though half of them feature him in an octet with a pair of electric guitarists and two pianists, an organist, bassist, drummer, and no less than Ralph MacDonald on percussion. The feel on most of these cuts is informed by bubbling funky reggae and calypso.
Spock's Beard began in 1992 when brothers Neal (lead vocals) and Al Morse (guitar) teamed up with drummer Nick D'Virgilio. After self-financing their first album, bassist Dave Meros joined, and The Light was recorded in 1994. Consisting of four lengthy songs, this debut album was well received by progressive rock fans, but received little public acclaim…
He never had a hit in the U.S., and he was only briefly a star in the U.K., but Dave Berry recorded a whole lot of material in the mid-'60s. This double CD only covers about the first half of his output for Decca between 1963-1970, yet contains no less than 57 tracks, making it likely to be the most definitive collection of his work during this era. Every one of his British hits (except 1966's "Mama") is here, along with all the non-hits, B-sides, LP tracks, and rarities from EPs. There are even five cuts that only appeared on either the Rhythm and Blues compilation LP or the live At the Cavern album, as well as two previously unissued April 1963 recordings ("Easy to Cry" and "Tongue Twistin'") produced by Mickie Most. Load on lengthy liner notes with firsthand quotes from Berry and many cool vintage period illustrations, and you have a package that's hard to beat for comprehensiveness…
Chicago drummer, bandleader, and composer Ted Sirota has one of the hottest bands around right now with his Rebel Souls. This 2000 date, issued on the British Naim label, is a wonderful precursor to 2004's Breeding Resistance. For starters, this is the first place that Sirota's right-hand man, saxophonist and composer Geof Bradfield, makes an appearance along with fellow reedman Kevin Kizer. Also on hand are Rob Mazurek, guitarist Jeff Parker, and bassist Noel Kupersmith, who have since moved on and have been replaced. But Vs. the Forces of Evil showcases the mature Rebel Souls ensemble sound.
In the '90s, it seemed that many of jazz's A&R people (as least at the major labels) were interested in either one of two things — if they weren't going after hard bop-oriented, standards-obsessed "Young Lions" in Armani suites, they were focusing on smooth jazz. Either they were looking for the next Kenny G. or the next Wynton Marsalis. That wasn't good news for fusion, which didn't get any respect from either bop snobs or NAC radio in the '90s. Nonetheless, quality fusion was still being recorded — you just had to know where to look. And one of the places to look was Lipstick Records, a small independent label that made fusion its main focus during that decade. Released in 1994, this little-known CD by drummer Andrea Marcelli is typical of Lipstick's jazz-rock output. Oneness didn't receive a lot of attention, and it was the only album that Marcelli recorded for Lipstick.