Piece by Piece was the second album recorded by Martyn after his return to Island Records after a seven year absence. During this time, his releases on other labels had seen most of any rough edges smoothed off and his guitar playing become almost non-existent. The lighter jazz/pop style which had begun on Grace and Danger had taken over. Keyboardist Foster Paterson was a prominent contributor to the songs on Piece By Piece, which are a mix of the instantly memorable and the soon forgettable.
One of the most time-honored blues legends is that of how Robert Johnson gained his mastery of the guitar: he sold his soul to the Devil for it. Los Angeles native and now Springfield IL resident, James Armstrong, however, communes with a different source for musical inspiration – four “Guitar Angels,” namely his father James Armstrong, Sr., Coco Montoya, Joe Louis Walker, and Mike Ross. On this second release through Catfood Records (his fifth CD overall), the incredible Armstrong pulls out all the stops when it comes to contemporary electric and soul-influenced blues. Armstrong’s veteran guitar work is consistently lively, creative, and interesting. He has crafted along with his fellow artists ten stellar original songs and two covers (The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” and a stellar and Soulful take on Johnny Copeland’s “Blues Ain’t Nothin’”), their upbeat and crowd-pleasing energy never fails to uplift listeners. At Armstrong’s side are seventeen remarkable musicians, including producer Michael Ross on guitar and percussion, Dan Ferguson on keyboards, and drummers Richy Puga, Rick King, and Warren Grant.
Six years after the classical Music of the Spheres, Mike Oldfield returns to his version of rock. Man on the Rocks is a slick production that recalls the AOR sounds of the late '70s and early '80s. He plays many instruments here but concentrates mainly on guitar…
320 Momentous Hits & Notable Tracks From The Warner Bros. Archives on Custom Metal USB Flash Drive The Equivalent of 20 CDs with Over 21+ Total Hours of Music!
It was always going to be a dangerous mission. Trevor Churchill’s brainchild, THE GOLDEN AGE OF AMERICAN POP, had been in development for some time and the prototype was about to be launched into the fray with a bundle of seemingly undifferentiated repertoire. The potential embarrassment factor was high with risk of heavy flak on the way and snipers on the ground in the landing zone. Trevor was calling for volunteers. There was a lot of nervous shuffling among the ranks. Some of the lads took to studying their toecaps, while others took an inordinate interest in the state of their cuticles, or tried to look inconspicuous by melting into the background.