The Album 2001

If Weston is a somewhat diffident musician, it may be because he did not perform in public until after his 60th birthday. Nevertheless, his debut album consists of original and accomplished material, in stark contrast to a number of other late developers who struggle to interpret rather than invent. Weston has a childhood memory of Sonny Boy ‘Rice Miller’ Williamson cutting across his parents’ farm on his way to country suppers and juke-joints, with a belt of harmonicas strapped across his chest. Later, he heard Miller’s King Biscuit Time on KFFA out of Helena, while he pursued a number of jobs as a farmer, butcher, car mechanic and carpenter. His own harmonica technique was developed with the assistance of Willie Cobbs…

Flutist Alexander Zonjic offers a strong mix of familiar pop songs and original material served in a great contemporary jazz setting on Reach for the Sky. Zonjic, who toured with Bob James for nearly ten years, extends his flute playing beyond the classical realm and brings its woodwind magic to a point where listeners can accept its resonant qualities in a smooth jazz context.

Georgia son Johnnie Marshall has transitioned from gospel choir member (as a child) to gospel drummer to blues guitarist and singer. He received his blues schoolin' at Dave's CC, a Tallahassee juke joint where he occasionally got the chance to sit in with touring legends. Johnny Rawls took Marshall under his wing in the late '90s, and here he plays rhythm guitar and contributes vocals to four songs on this disc of 13 originals. Additional special guests include Eddie Kirkland, Sonny Rhodes, Slam Allen, and George Boone. It's a solid though not particularly innovative set of horn-dotted, soulful blues.

Shchedrin's Carmen Ballet, a hit in the 1960s, still amuses, delights, entertains, and, for some, enrages. It's full of Bizet's great melodies, but instead of a fancy-dress version of great hits from Carmen, Shchedrin's reorchestration features extravagant percussion effects and fascinating original variations. So it's a truly original work in the long line of parody pieces central to 20th century music, including the reworking of Baroque music by Stravinsky, Respighi, and others. Pletnev and his fine orchestra play the daylights out of it, and the engineers make the most of its "hi-fi spectacular" potential. The Concertos for Orchestra are welcome fillers. The first, subtitled "Naughty Limericks," sounds like music to accompany a riotous cartoon. The second, "Chimes," is made of sterner stuff, with some dazzling trumpet and percussion passages in its middle section and an extended finale for bells and a dark-textured orchestra. This is one of those discs you can't go wrong with.

We remember Anton RUBINSTEIN as an outstanding pianist who rivalled, and even outshone, Liszt. He gave his first public concert when aged 10 and toured Scandinavia, Austria, Germany, London and Paris as a child virtuoso…
Symphony No. 1 in F Major is a charming and well-crafted work, written at a time when Rubinstein was in St Petersburg, being supported by the Grand Duchess Elena Pavlovna, sister-in-law of the Tsar. The work has strong influences of Mendelssohn (who died three years previously) with a clear framework, memorable themes and dynamic rhythms. This symphony combines technical skill with romantic charm.

Scottish-born singer Jimmy Somerville became a surprise success in the mid-'80s. Instead of being Duran Duran-cute, Jimmy Somerville looked like the average boy next door. Instead of belting out his musical repertoire with a self-conscious urgency to prove himself as a singer (like Rick Astley or George Michael), Somerville possessed a dramatic, piercing falsetto that made the Associates' Billy Mackenzie sound like Tom Waits. But what really made Jimmy Somerville distinctive was his openness about his sexuality. The 1980s was the decade of androgyny, with artists like Annie Lennox, Boy George, and Poison emulating the gender-bending approach of 1970s-era David Bowie. Other performers such as Morrissey and the aforementioned George Michael kept their fans guessing about their sexual orientation.

Few young singer/songwriters have quite so quickly won the sort of acclaim that Idaho-born Josh Ritter gained with his first self-released album, which won rave reviews, earned him slots opening for Bob Dylan, and made him a minor celebrity in Ireland, where he's already headlined several tours. Ritter's second disc (and first nationally released album), Golden Age of Radio, makes it clear that his sudden success is well deserved, and based on genuine talent. Ritter's moody, evocative songs seem to reside in a middle ground between Richard Buckner and Ryan Adams, but without suggesting he's lifted anything from either of those performers.

Few young singer/songwriters have quite so quickly won the sort of acclaim that Idaho-born Josh Ritter gained with his first self-released album, which won rave reviews, earned him slots opening for Bob Dylan, and made him a minor celebrity in Ireland, where he's already headlined several tours. Ritter's second disc (and first nationally released album), Golden Age of Radio, makes it clear that his sudden success is well deserved, and based on genuine talent. Ritter's moody, evocative songs seem to reside in a middle ground between Richard Buckner and Ryan Adams, but without suggesting he's lifted anything from either of those performers.

Following his second covers album, Kojak Variety, Elvis Costello set out to assemble a collection of songs he had written for other artists but never recorded himself – sort of a reverse covers album. As it turned out, that idea was only used as a launching pad – the resulting album, All This Useless Beauty, is a mixture of nine old and three new songs. Given its origins, it's surprising that the record holds together as well as it does. The main strength of All This Useless Beauty is the quality of the individual songs – each song can stand on its own as an individual entity, as the music is as sharp as the lyrics. Although the music is certainly eclectic, it's accessible, which wasn't the case with Mighty Like a Rose. Furthermore, the production is more textured and punchier than Mitchell Froom's botched job on Brutal Youth. All This Useless Beauty doesn't quite add up to a major statement, but the simple pleasures it offers makes it one of the more rewarding records of the latter part of Costello's career.