Author: kruekutt

Grateful for my beloved wife, son, daughter-in-law, grandchildren and siblings. Also a lover of theology, music, history, philosophy, classic novels, science fiction, fantasy and Looney Tunes.

The Guess Who & Don Felder In Concert: To Rock or To Roll?

On By kruekuttIn Rock and Roll2 Comments

Even though I’ve almost had to eat my words a time or two, I stand by my belief: rockers should rock as long as they want to rock. But I also believe that, when rockers pushing the age of 80 go out on tour, an aphorism of Robert Fripp’s may come in handy: expectation is a prison.

A perfect case study in both propositions cropped up this week, when my wife and I checked out our brand new downtown amphitheater for the first time. Headlining the night: veteran Canadian rockers Randy Bachman and Burton Cummings, out on tour as The Guess Who for the first time since legally reclaiming the band name from their erstwhile rhythm section. Opening the show: Don Felder, lead guitarist for The Eagles at their creative and commercial peak – though mired in contention almost from the beginning of his tenure and fired from the band 25 years ago. Each hit the stage with a different approach to their vintage catalog — and as the night unfolded, the differences told.

Felder, backed by REO Speedwagon alumnus Dave Amato on second guitar and Nashville pros Matt Bissonette (bass) and Seth Rausch (drums), hit the stage clean and pin-sharp, looking remarkably well-preserved for 78. “Already Gone” launched in a blaze of choirboy harmonies and a country-rock lope; “One of These Nights” shifted into a taut funk groove without the band breaking a sweat (no simple feat during an extreme heat advisory). The name-dropping Felder original “American Rock’n’Roll” kept up the onslaught — but cracks appeared in the music’s surface when, after introducing the band and paying tribute to his Southern roots, Felder sequed into the close-harmony ballad “Seven Bridges Road”. The backing vocals were obviously pre-recorded – no way could even four above-average singers sound that lush and resonant – and the instrumentals synced up uncannily with the narrative video playing on the back screen. From there on, I couldn’t help distinguishing the authentic from the assisted: noticing how newer tune “Hollywood Victim” recycled the nastier Eagles tropes about California girls gone wild; hearing how, when Felder’s singing crept up into Don Henley’s range, the grainy, robotic sound of AutoTune hung in the air. The final run of Eagles classics – “Take It Easy”, “Heartache Tonight”, “Life in the Fast Lane”, “Hotel California” – provided the thrills the crowd was looking for; plenty of rhythmic stomp from Bissonette and Rausch, Felder peeling off one stinging melodic lick after another, Amato channelling Joe Walsh when he locked in with Felder for double leads. But with all the genuine firepower onstage, the music was frequently as airbrushed as Felder’s vocals and his muscle car-styled logo. To be sure, the audience got what they wanted, and Felder did rock hard; still, I couldn’t help wondering how much grit was buried under multitracked layers of automated failsafes.

Ambling on to the prerecorded strains of “Hang On to Your Life” with their back-up quintet, Bachman and Cummings immediately established a loose vibe, kicking off with rootsy throwback “Runnin’ Back to Saskatoon” and b-side “Proper Stranger”. From the start there were rough edges, but also a sense of genuine risk, as the rhythm section ebbed and flowed without reference to a click or a backing track. Still, there were downsides to The Guess Who letting it all hang out. At least on this night, Cummings’ high range came and went; though he’s the same age as Felder, he looked and sounded older, veering into Grandpa Simpson territory in his more nostalgic, showbiz song introductions. (To paraphrase one: “And when the morning sun comes through my windows and shines on those gold records, it’s sure a niiiice feeling …”) Thankfully, even though Cummings’ vocal flesh proved weak, his insistent, boogie-laced piano work plus the band’s sturdy playing powered through hit after hit, both from Bachman’s time in the band (mellow ballads “These Eyes” and “Laughing”, the chiming “No Time”, hard-rock smash “American Woman”) and afterwards (hippie hymns “Hand Me Down World” and encore “Share the Land”, retro-rockers “Albert Flasher” and “Star Baby”, novelty DJ tribute “Clap for the Wolfman”). And though the 82-year-old Bachman has been through enough wear and tear to stay seated for the entire show, he summoned up the spirit and drive to carry the night, his irresistible guitar hooks and raucous leads consistently pushing the group over the next rise. When Cummings stepped back for the Bachman-Turner Overdrive standards “Let It Ride”, “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet” and final encore “Taking Care of Business”, Bachman’s capacious bellow and funky, chunky riffs drove the crowd to their feet for the night’s biggest reactions, loudest singalongs and clapalongs, and longest, rowdiest ovations. By Keith Richard’s definition, if Felder rocked, The Guess Who rocked and rolled.

So, two different approaches: Felder reaching for perfection at the potential expense of excitement – which, to be fair, was how The Eagles typically went about their business; Bachman and Cummings being who they are, and letting precision go hang in search of the right feel. While I preferred The Guess Who’s sloppy yet spirited set to Felder’s machine-tooled entertainment, I can’t say one approach will always be better than the other. So, as acts rooted in the glory days of rock keep hitting the sheds this summer (and in summers to come), know your expectations — and be ready to break out of whatever prisons they’ve constructed for you, when the right band meets the right night. Either way, let rockers rock as long as they wanna rock!

The Guess Who’s “Takin’ It Back” tour with special guest Don Felder continues through August 22; US concert dates are here.

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes: A Season of Plenty

On By kruekuttIn Ambient, americana, art rock, avant-garde, classical, country, glam rock, hard rock, Heavy metal, Insideout Music, jazz, Pink Floyd, pop, post-rock, Progressive rock, Rock and Roll, vernacular musicLeave a comment

“What is so rare as a day in June?” Certainly not good music! There’s much fine listening on many fronts this month – hence, the elongated article. Listening links are embedded in album titles; where necessary, purchase links are included (in parentheses) at the end of reviews.

The buzz of 2026’s experimental scene has unmistakably been Angine de Poitrine. After all, when was the last time you saw and heard a duo of self-proclaimed alien beings (hailing from Quebec) burning up social media with microtonal minimalist surf prog? Kudos to AdP for packaging challenging if familiar ideas with striking if freaky visuals (papier-mache heads? Pyramids and suspicious dice? Pickled herrings and a hot dog?). The proof’s in the tuneage, though: on 2024’s Vol. I and the new Vol. II guitarist Khn and drummer Klek generate one tightly controlled, surprisingly addictive perpetual motion frenzy after another. Fans of Steve Reich, 1980s King Crimson and math-rock in general will resonate with it all. Whether AdP have staying power beyond this initial splash remains to be seen, but they’ve made a good fist of a start.

Also on the out-there end: two of my favorite avant-jazzers, trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusere and guitarist Mary Halvorson took advantage of a common record label to stage a welcome summit meeting. Slo-Mo Neon Luminate Hoverings is a pretty solid description of what the result sounds like; from the conventional beauty of Akinmusere’s “Prelude in the Ash” through the loop-based drone dialogue of the joint “Soundcheck” to Halvorson’s polytonality-meets-power-chords “Blood & Sand”, you rarely know what’s coming next, but there’s plenty of sonic space to navigate without a map. Akinmusere shouts, twists, flurries and floats, singing as much as playing through his instrument; Halvorson brings her pointed tone, scribbly runs, wiry chords, and mastery of effects to bear; their ongoing dialogue is sombre, witty, affecting, completely simpatico. An attentive collaboration that leaves the listener engrossed, hanging on every cryptic gesture.

Opera/art song diva Renee Fleming has occasionally detoured into crossover territory, with mixed results. (Excursions into jazz: usually solid. An album of indie rock tunes from Muse, Arcade Fire, The Mars Volta, etc: not great.) Her latest, co-billed with progressive bluegrass heavyweight Bela Fleck, is a self-released passion project — and it’s quite good! The Fiddle and the Drum focuses on songs of love and war, ranging from Carter Family classics through Joni Mitchell’s Vietnam-era title track to Elvis Costello’s cinematic period piece “The Scarlet Tide”. If Fleming is sometimes overly reverent toward the material, she’s also thoroughly committed; her duets with dobro master Jerry Douglas are the most intense moments here, though the closing a cappella trio “Pretty Bird” (with Americana sirens Sierra Hull & Sarah Jarosz) comes close. Add guest vocals by country titans Dolly Parton and Vince Gill, Fleck’s steady hand in the studio and a tasty backing band, and you have a luxuriously upholstered yet idiomatic homage to the Appalachian folk tradition. (Buy from Bela Fleck’s webstore.)

Suddenly everything old in rock and roll seems new yet again: witness The Lemon Twigs, brothers from New York City who write, sing and play multiple instruments like angels heralding the resurgence of power pop. Their sixth album Look For Your Mind! is much more than an exercise in retro pastiche, even though the guitars jangle and ring, the vocal harmonies swoon and swoop, and a wall of orchestral sound ebbs and flows. Brian D’Addario’s soaring, melodic balladry and brother Michael’s chunky, adenoidal rock chops meld into one overarching style like never before, with the Twigs’ road band and female fellow-travelers Tchotchke contributing to a warm new “live in the studio” feel. And the songs! Sweet odd-couple romance “2 Or 3”, stomping protest rocker “Bring You Down”, break-up chamber-pop “Joy” (with the solo taken by a French horn section!) are just the tip of the iceberg; every single tune is a near-perfect blend of craft and sincere sentiment, bursting with riffs and melodies that stick like chewing gum through every surprise bridge and delightfully inevitable key change. This is the album where the Twigs have made their influences (Beatles, Byrds, Beach Boys, Big Star – and that’s just the Bs) their own, and a record that stands up marvelously in such august company. Already a hands-down 2026 Favorite, and the album I recommend most highly from this batch.

Of course, it’s not like all the grizzled veterans are sitting home, twiddling their thumbs. Paul McCartney has been striking nostalgic chords by summoning up his past for at least thirty years, and his new The Boys of Dungeon Lane delves further into lyrical and musical reminiscence. “Days We Left Behind” meditates on history and change, spotlightling a newly fragile cragginess in Macca’s voice; “Down South” mates a memory of hitchiking with George Harrison to gentle acoustic busking. Plus, there’s “Home to Us” – a duet with Ringo! (On vocals and drums!) Not to mention the “When I’m 64” shuffle of “Life Can Be Hard”, a callback to “And I Love Her” on “First Star of the Night”, plenty of energetic rock guitar, fuzz bass, and even Paul playing trumpet (on “Salesman Saint”, a tribute to his parents that’s the album’s most moving love song). McCartney’s melodic gift and textural instincts are at a peak, and Andrew Watt’s widescreen production cannily matches the enticing, confiding tone of his voice. Lovely overall, thoroughly charming and frequently stirring, slotting easily into the upper reaches of Macca’s more adventurous solo efforts. (Buy from his webstore.)

And then there’s Muse – as over the top and bonkers as ever for their latest return to action, The Wow! Signal. You know what you’re in for when opener “The Dark Forest” contains both a direct steal from the soundtrack to Lawrence of Arabia and quasi-liturgical Latin chanting; the willful genre-hopping never stops, both between songs (EDM/Taylor Swift-wannabe single “Night Shift Superstar”, synthprog/rifferama medley “Hexagons/The Sickness in You and I/Unraveling”) and within them (“Be With You” is a hymn! No, it’s dubstep! No, it’s metal! With a choir!) Credit to Matt Bellamy, Chris Wolstenholme and Dominic Howard for pulling together yet another smorgasboard of sensory overload into a surprisingly coherent concept album – and for injecting unexpected emotional depth, as melancholic coda “Space Debris” casts down-to-earth shadows over what had seemed just another grandiose conspiracy/UFO narrative. After a couple of enjoyable but not particularly memorable releases, this one feels like a real step forward. (Buy from their webstore.)

As does Yes‘ latest, Aurora – though the Steve Howe-led version of this band has been gaining momentum for a couple of albums now. There’s plenty of newfound ambition in the tunesmithing, and the band plays with commitment and animation. Howe’s style and sound on electric, acoustic and steel guitars is unmistakable, while Geoff Downes’ synth and organ work is straightforward and appropriate; Billy Sherwood and Jay Schellen lay down nicely propulsive grooves; and orchestral flourishes on the title track and “Ariadne” complement the group sound instead of distracting from it. Jon Davison’s found his way forward as well; whether on the harmonious “Turnaround Situtation”, the four-part suite “Countermovement”, or the anthemic closer “Emotional Intelligence” his singing slots in confidently, with a pleasant amount of grit seasoning his usual sunny vibe. Don’t expect the adrenaline rush or angularity of Yes’ most innovative era; these are mostly distance runs instead of sprints or marathons, paced as such, but the restraint works, even on riff-rocker “All Hands On Deck”. Take Aurora on its own terms, and there’s genuine satisfaction to be found. (Buy from Inside Out.)

Reissues and live releases follow the jump . . .

Continue reading “Rick’s Quick Takes: A Season of Plenty” →

In Concert: Which Wilco?

On By kruekuttIn americana, art rock, hard rock, post punk, Progressive rock, singer-songwriterLeave a comment

An Evening with Wilco, Frederik Meijer Gardens Amphitheatre, Grand Rapids Michigan, June 12, 2026.

It turns out that I’ve seen Wilco live about once every ten years – and it’s interesting to think back to the overall vibe of each show.

In 2006, Wilco was probably at the peak of their mass culture reach — coming off two albums of intense studio experimentation that earned them widespread cred with both listeners and critics, settling into a stable lineup for the first time in five years. While frontman Jeff Tweedy still prowled the stage with nervy, coiled intensity – to the extent of calling out any inattentive folks in the front rows – his new songs (from the then-unreleased Sky Blue Sky) seemed more settled lyrically, more fluid musically, written for a band that had jelled in the course of extensive live work. In contrast, the 2015 concert was looser and skronkier; Wilco slammed through their current album Star Wars (alternate title if Lucasfilm had objected: Cease and Desist) in its entirety for starters, then leaned hard into their more rambunctious material; even an all-acoustic encore felt like anything could happen at any time.

This time around, where would the vibe land? Taking Meijer Gardens’ stage on a perfect late-spring evening, Wilco kicked off the show with “Handshake Drugs” from 2004’s A Ghost Is Born. Chanted to a sing-song melody and his acoustic strumming, Tweedy’s blurry snapshot of a man trapped in self-inflicted confusion gave way to guitarist Nels Cline’s keening lead break, while utility player Pat Sansone, keyboardist Mike Jorgenson, and rhythm buddies John Stirratt and Glenn Kotche plowed onward. When Tweedy switched to electric guitar and joined Cline in a feedback-laden playout, it seemed a statement of intent, and the sell-out crowd cheered on the band, seemingly ready for more.

What they got — well, openings can be deceiving! Downshifting for a good chunk of the first set, Wilco eased into the calmer, spacious folk/Americana groove that’s marked more recent albums Shmilco, Ode to Joy and Cruel Country. Cline traded off between electric, resonator, and lap steel guitars, always hitting a sweet spot with his lead lines; Sansone, Jorgensen, Stirratt (who took the vocal on his “It’s Just That Simple” from debut album A.M.) and Kotche brought home one charming moment after the other. And Tweedy settled into his best southern Illinois drawl, at ease as I’d never seen him on both newer material and appropriate oldies like “Forget the Flowers” and “You and I”. The expansive “Bird Without a Tail/Base of My Skull” gave the entire band room to stretch out in the middle, shaping an organic instrumental jam any Deadhead would bliss out over.

But just as the crowd was settling in, the disturbed dream-pop of “Via Chicago” popped out of a dark alley. His voice a flat mumble, Tweedy threaded his way through spooky neuroses (“I dreamed about killing you again last night/And it felt alright with me”), the tune’s mournful slow drag randomly shattered by jagged, horror-soundtrack noise squalls from Cline and Kotche. Our nerves soothed at the halfway point by the sing-along “California Stars” (words by Woody Guthrie, covered by Bob Seger), we were nonetheless back to wondering what might be in store for the second set.

The answer — much, much more rock! Fan favorites from 2001’s breakthrough album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot bookended the set, with “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”, “War On War”, “Heavy Metal Drummer” and “I’m the Man Who Loves You” all garnering enthusiastic reactions. And the jams got more extravagant, more exuberant: the rich triple guitar weave of “Impossible Germany”, mutant offspring of The Allman Brothers and Television; a raging “Kingpin”, with Sansone going toe to toe with Cline in a bluesy duet; Tweedy firing off one random yet right lick after another to punctuate the motorik monochord workout “Spiders (Kidsmoke)”. And to top off the night, Wilco’s primal roots – alt-country scruffiness laced with hardcore distortion and attitude – came through loud and proud on encores “The Late Greats”, “I Got You (At the End of the Century)” and “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”.

So which Wilco showed up? Both of them – or all of them – did, the vibe shifting as they went, and 1500+ people couldn’t have been happier. A great night from a band that’s relentlessly blazed their own trail across three decades, musically restless yet utterly relaxed, at the height of their powers onstage. Surprising and satisfying in equal proportions, they’re well worth catching if you can.

— Rick Krueger

Setlist:

  • Handshake Drugs
  • If I Ever Was a Child
  • Cruel Country
  • Forget the Flowers
  • Evicted
  • Bird Without a Tail / Base of My Skull
  • I’m Always in Love
  • Everyone Hides
  • Hummingbird
  • It’s Just That Simple
  • You and I
  • Shouldn’t Be Ashamed
  • Via Chicago
  • California Stars
  • Falling Apart (Right Now)
  • Box Full of Letters
  • Annihilation
  • I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
  • War on War
  • Either Way
  • Impossible Germany
  • Jesus, Etc.
  • Theologians
  • Walken
  • Kingpin
  • Heavy Metal Drummer
  • I’m the Man Who Loves You
  • Spiders (Kidsmoke)
  • The Late Greats
  • I Got You (At the End of the Century)
  • Outtasite (Outta Mind)

Rick’s Quick Takes: . . . Bring May Flowers

On By kruekuttIn Ambient, art rock, hard rock, Kscope, pop, Progressive rockLeave a comment

You know how this goes! Listening links are embedded in the album title; when available, purchase links are also included or noted (in parentheses) after the review.

The Black Crowes, A Pound of Feathers. Arguably the last American roots-rockers to break big before the advent of grunge, the Crowes’ first three albums were classics, and they’ve never made a total stinker. But their recent revival has proved extra special; while their 2024 comeback album only took flight halfway through, their newest rockets skyward from the get-go. Guitarist Rich Robinson fires off one unstoppable riff and perfectly judged break after another; brother Chris’ crackling vocal rasp and motor mouth delivery mounts astride the greasy grooves, spinning lyrical yarns of road roguery with self-awareness and style to spare. But there’s pain and regret lurking in the dank corners of the party : reflective comedowns “Pharmacy Chronicles”, “High and Lonesome” and “Queen of the B-Sides” cut the decadent fog generated by slamming rockers “Cruel Streak” and “Do the Parasite”; and the bill comes due on apocalyptic finale “Doomsday Doggerel”. The highlight here is “Eros Blues” – a widescreen multisectional plea for any deliverance available, with a towering gospel choir joining the Robinsons at the climax. A pile-driving, sharply etched tangle of shadows and light, A Pound of Feathers moves the body, mind and heart. A highly recommended Instant Favorite for 2026, on par with the Crowes’ best.

The Dear Hunter, Sunya. One of these days, Casey Crescenzo and his merry band might finish up their self-titled six-album magnum opus; in the meantime, we have the third installment in the completely different Indigo Child cycle. Leaving the repressive authoritarian city of 2022’s Antimai, our nameless protagonist heads for “The Wasteland”, where today’s best Beach Boys/Queen harmonies ride atop dystopian sunshine prog-funk – and that’s just for starters! “Marauders” is hyperspeed punk-pop, complete with cheesy organ licks; “The Bazaareteria” slips into medium-tempo funk with interlocking instrumental bits orbiting each other. Then there’s three-parter “The Glass Desert”, morphing from sonic sheets of synthesizer and wordless vocal via double-time drive and plaintive horn textures into countrified dream-rock. Which then glides through a synth transition into the title track, an emotive paean to self-actualization (complete with agnostic romantic idealism as ethical foundation). It makes for a killer power ballad and an effective closing track – but this feels like another “To Be Continued” moment. Still, Sunya is an intriguing, attention-grabbing listen throughout; this material should go down like gangbusters on The Dear Hunter’s upcoming US tour. (Buy from the band’s Cave and Canary Goods here.)

Peter Hammill: A Headlong Stretch: The Fie! Albums, 1992-1996. Judging that he was “more capable of under-promoting myself than anyone else on the planet”, Hammill kissed major-label life goodbye with this quartet of albums – wildly varying in style, wildly creative throughout. The “Becalm” album Fireships is PH at his most accessible, riding memorable melodies in reserved yet dramatic style, with David Lord providing gorgeous, dead-on synthetic orchestrations. “Aloud” sequel The Noise has Hammill back in stentorian mode over New Wave/post-punk backing, bellowing a tribute to the chaos of Van der Graaf Generator on the title track and utterly inhabiting the baleful, harrowing closer “Primo on the Parapet”. Roaring Forties mixes the two modes to stunning effect on the Beatlesque takedown “Sharply Unclear”, the aerated power-rock of “You Can’t Want What You Always Get”, the calm-through-storm-and-back arch of the epic that yields the box set’s title, and the hymnic soul ballad “Your Tall Ship” (an elegy to Hammill’s father). X My Heart is more of a one-man show, with space to savor the finely-crafted melody and oratory, along with my very favorite Hammill song, “A Better Time” (the a cappella version gets me every time). Hammill is unquestionably both an acquired taste and an astounding artist, and there are plenty of marvelous moments here. (Buy from Burning Shed here.)

Joe Jackson, Hope and Fury. The man of a thousand voices is back – and he’s still an thoroughly contrary sod! Replete with callbacks to his Look Sharp and Night and Day eras at the head of a feisty quintet, Jackson is as musically eclectic – and as lyrically allergic to others’ demands for respect and obedience – as ever. From the hip-hop hooligan chanting of “Burning-On-Sea” through to the luscious semiclassical balladry of “See You in September” he’s here in all his splendor and vulgarity, deftly wielding his gift for melody (“Made God Laugh”, “After All This Time”), his awkward humor (“Do Do Do”), his unstoppable genre-hopping (the jazzy “Face in the Crowd”), his penchant for ambitious topics (“End of the Pier”, with a tune that channels the soul of Elgar) and his irresistible urge to take the mickey out of any sacred cow in sight (even the commodification of the rainbow on “Fabulous People”). Fifty years on, Jackson’s musical and satirical powers remain at a peak, with the tears of a clown breaking through on occasion; and even his sandpaper voice and whiz-bang piano skills are miraculously intact. Not for fans only, but if you ever have been one, definitely check this out.

Bruce Soord, Ghosts in the Park. Soord characterizes his recent Pineapple Thief albums as occupied with broad societal concerns, while his solo work zooms in on what’s personal. The songs on Ghosts in the Park certainly qualify for the latter: delicate, allusive meditations on his parents’ aging and eventual passing, the mounting grief of all parties observed with dark grace. The music, composed by Soord in hotel rooms on tour even as his mother and father declined, suits the subject matter to perfection: somber guitar sketches and hovering vocal lines, looped into additive rhythm beds (“Day of Wrath”), set off with stinging electric leads (“Kept Me Thinking”) and silence when least expected (the title track). From the extended personal reverie “Meet Me on the Downs” to the protestations of baffled elders (and/or their children?) on “You Made a Promise”, Ghosts in the Dark leaves its mark gently, quietly, its occasional outbursts plumbing the depth of despair, pain and acceptance at human life’s end. Not everyday listening, but a moving, affecting experience nonetheless. (Buy from Burning Shed here.)

Stephen Thelen, Fractal Guitar 4. Connoisseurs of suspended soundscapes and odd-time rhythm grids, rejoice! Robert Fripp may be observing his 80th birthday in retirement, but Swiss guitarist and composer Thelen keeps extending and developing the Crimsonian tradition with each of his prolific releases. The latest installment in a series that pairs the mathematics of his breakthrough ensemble Sonar with the alchemical properties of sonic treatments and effects, Fractal Guitar 4 is a whirlwind tour through hard-charging energy grooves (the album’s bookends “In Search of the Miraculous”), more relaxed world music pulses (“Fractal Guitar Goes to Africa”) crepuscular meditations (“Creatures of the Night”) and a cinematic hero’s journey (the two-part “Eclipse”). With fellow guitarists Eivind Aarset and Jon Durant launching into the spaces Thelen conjures and drummer Yogev Gabay sliding alongside with supple polyrhythms, there’s tension and release aplenty, as the core group and guests like touch guitar master Markus Reuter drift off, lock in, rinse, and repeat in unanticipated, inevitable patterns. Head-spinning and soul-cleansing, it’s a worthwhile journey to unheard-of musical destinations. (Buy from Bandcamp at the link above.)

— Rick Krueger

Jon Anderson and the Band Geeks: In Concert May 7, 2026

On By kruekuttIn Progressive rock1 Comment

Jon Anderson knows he’s no spring chicken. On the last night of his tour’s current leg at Detroit’s Royal Oak Music Theatre, he went straight for the dad jokes to introduce classics from Yes’ vintage years:

We’re gonna do a song that’s so old I’ve forgotten when it’s from! (before “Perpetual Change” and “I’ve Seen All Good People”)

(Looking at guitarist Andy Graziano for his cue) The beginning of this next song is how I remember what song it’s the beginning of! (before “And You and I” and “Leaves of Green”)

Add the inevitable physical limitations that have crept in since Anderson’s 2019 tour, and you might wonder what was in store as, backed by bassist Richie Castellano’s Band Geeks, he took the stage to the strains of Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite. But there was nothing for the 1,000-strong sold out audience to worry about, as the sextet launched straight into a taut, crackling version of “Close to the Edge”. Shimmying to the music, shaking a streamer-laden tambourine, constantly catching the eyes of his support team, above all singing with the vocal range and stamina of his salad days, Anderson delivered the goods throughout the two-hour set of majestic epic-length tunes, rarely glancing at his Autocue to remember the words he’s sung for fifty-plus years.

The Band Geeks are obviously a major part of the experience here. Unlike Anderson’s multi-generational 1000 Hands band, bassist Castellano, Graziano and the rest of the team (keyboardist Chris Clark, utility player Phil Castellano and drummer Anthony Ascolese) generally stick to the original manuscripts, festooning selections from The Yes Album through Going for the One with the requisite flourishes and ample echoes of Howe, Squire, Kaye/Wakeman/Moraz and Bruford/White in their solo moments. “Counties and Countries” and “Once Upon a Dream” (from 2023’s quite wonderous album True) follow the same blueprint in expanding Anderson’s new songs (Anderson introducing the former tune onstage: “Richie sent back the music and I asked: ‘How’d you do it? Why’d you do it?”); if there’s less compositional heat that might have come from players and writer interacting in the studio, nonetheless tasty interplay, nifty stylistic callbacks and deep, solid grooves still jump out at you. And the new song “Giving Is Living” has an uptempo rock kick, boosting the energy and accenting the rhythmic rhetoric of Anderson’s magical, mystical hippie word salad. (If Jon was a natural-born American citizen and ran for president, I’d vote for him in a heartbeat. Is there a Time Lord in the house?)

After seeing the man four times over four decades, I have no doubt: whatever cynicism Anderson may have about his life in music, he leaves it offstage. His smile beamed constantly; he shuffled to the rhythms as best he could; he waved at adoring fans on the main floor as often as possible. Duetting on harp with Clark’s digital church organ on “Awaken”, he stole his own show with one of the night’s musical highlights. And when the audience spontaneously sang along for “I’ve Seen All Good People”, Anderson was there to wave a giant tie-dyed flag back at ’em while quoting John Lennon’s “Give Peace a Chance” in counterpoint. Only Ringo himself could have topped the gesture.

From that moment, the evening built to its predestined climax, with “Once Upon A Dream” and the acoustic “Leaves of Green” providing more aural space and focus, and “Starship Trooper” unrolling solos aplenty from sundry Geeks. (After all these years, it’s finally struck me: the chords of the “Wurm” section are awfully similar to the playout of “Free Bird”! Coincidence or …?). And “Roundabout” proved the predestined finale, as the 81-year old Anderson delightedly danced with his wife during Clark’s Wakemanesque keyboard break, then skipped back to the mike to finish up.

Six weeks from now, this tour resumes with a month-long West Coast/Midwest leg, followed by a five-week UK/Sweden/France jaunt in September and October. (Tour dates are here.) Yes fans, Jon Anderson fans, who knows how many more chances you’ll get? Based on what I saw in metro Detroit, this is a concert to see (with all good people) and hear while you can!

— Rick Krueger

Setlist:

  • Close to the Edge
  • Perpetual Change
  • Counties and Countries
  • And You and I
  • Giving Is Living
  • Soon (from The Gates of Delirium)
  • Awaken
  • I’ve Seen All Good People
  • Once Upon a Dream
  • Leaves of Green (from The Ancient)
  • Starship Trooper
  • Roundabout

Rick’s Quick Takes: April Showers . . .

On By kruekuttIn americana, jazz rock, pop, Progressive rock, punk rock, Rock and Roll, southern rockLeave a comment

. . . bring the chance to catch up on the ever-growing backlog of good stuff; all of these sets (new or old, live or archival) have something to recommend them. Where available, listening links are embedded in the album titles; purchase links are also included when necessary.

Two instant favorites this time around! The 21st century incarnation of Soft Machine has always made worthwhile music; their new album Thirteen takes the whole enterprise up a notch, easily standing with the best of the band’s variegated 1970s output. New rhythm buddies Fred Thelonious Baker on bass and Asaf Sirkis on drums bring fiery precision and attractively fuzzed grunge to the engine room (Sirkis also provides contrast with his lovely downtempo tunes “Lemon Poem Song”, “Waltz for Robert” and “Disappear”); veteran guitarist John Etheridge and sax/keyboardist Theo Travis ramp up gnarly vamps, unexpected splashes of musical color, and thrilling solo excursions on hard rockers (“Open Road”, Baker’s “Turmoil”) intricately swinging fusion (“Green Books”, “Time Station”), even a multi-sectioned prog epic, “The Longest Night”. There are echoes of classic Softs throughout, culminating in a finale built around glissando guitar by founder Daevid Allen, but this isn’t a throwback or a pastiche. With all four players feeding off each other and raising their game to new heights, Thirteen makes for an audacious, exhilarating jazz-rock journey.

Meanwhile, the Tedeschi Trucks Band proves less can be more on their latest, Future Soul. Focusing on making music that’s killer without filler, the 12-piece TTB shines on 11 short, sharp tunes — rootsy as ever, chock full of hooks that conjure up like-minded musical ramblers from Joe Cocker and Leon Russell to Delaney & Bonnie. Have no fear: the funky “Crazy Cryin'”, country soul like “What in the World” and “Under the Knife”, the riff-rock rampages “Hero” and the title track – every track, in fact – will stretch out nicely into opulent jamming onstage; but the economy embraced here polishes and focuses this band’s spectacular talent to a newly gleaming finish. Susan Tedeschi’s riveting Joplin/Raitt croon, Derek Trucks’ intoxicating blend of John Coltrane, Duane Allman and his own imaginative take on slide guitar, Gabe Dixon’s chunky, resonant organ and synth work, Mike Mattison’s strong support and vocals and songwriting mesh with rock-solid rhythm, wailing gospel singers and dizzyingly eclectic horn parts into one mighty, sanctified roar. A heady, hearty collection that already brings a buzz on disc and may well levitate live.

One more brand-new release: Bruce Hornsby’s Indigo Park. An American maverick of long distinction, Hornsby is at his most poetic lyrically as he confronts aging, mortality, idyllic memories tempered with maturing wisdom, and the pull of home versus the push of the road. But seasoned by decades of collaboration with everyone from the Grateful Dead to Spike Lee, Bruce has long since stretched beyond the “New Age meets Yacht Rock” idiom of his hit singles. There’s astounding range (sorry) here: the longing Americana of the title track and the closer “Take a Light Strain”; the playground b-ball tall tale “Ecstatic”, powered by slinky hip-hop loops and verbal rhythms; a sardonic, dulcimer-driven take on smalltown complacency, “North Dakota Slate Roof”; even aching, old-timey slow drags “Alabama” and “Might As Well Be Me, Florinda” (on the latter, Dead founder Bob Weir gleefully sinks his teeth into a near-atonal duet worthy of Hornsby’s modern classical idols, matching Bruce melodic loop for melodic loop). Confident and complete in itself, Indigo Park feels like a farewell statement, but road dogs like Hornsby and his Noisemakers will doubtless approach these tunes as rough sketches to flesh out in concert. And who knows what directions they’ll go with such fine material? (Buy Indigo Park from Hornsby’s webstore.)

It’s great to see that the ever-resourceful Leonardo Pavkovic has bounced back yet again; in recent months, Pavkovic’s flagship label MoonJune Records has been shipping to the USA once more, finding effective workarounds to navigate the increasingly incoherent regime of international trade. MoonJune’s philosophy of bringing musicians together from across the globe, turning them loose and releasing the stimulating results is front and center in two recent releases. Dewa Budjana’s Praguenayama pairs the Indonesian fusion guitarist with the Czech Symphony Orchestra on an appealing selection of Budjana’s soaring, thoughtful melodies; East meets West to lush, reflective effect here – with just the right spice at key moments. Meanwhile, keyboardist Dwiki Dharmawan unites with Israeli saxophonist Gilad Atzmon and a Greek rhythm section for the probing, eclectic set Anagnorisis. Running the gamut from the Indonesian folk tradition through free jazz and impressionist balladry to the blues, this album is constantly intriguing and a genuine ensemble effort, with Dharmawan and Atzmon, Harris Lambrakis on ney flute, Vironas Ntolas’ guitar, Kimon Karoutis’ bass and Nikos Sidirokastritis’ drums all active in the conversation of equals.

Earlier this year, The Beach Boys’ We Gotta Groove: The Brother Studio Years was the talk of the rock press – quietly released on short notice, immediately sold out of its small initial pressing (I ponied up for the Japanese, CD-only edition, complete with tariffs), the subject of near-unanimous rave reviews. With a second pressing set for release at the end of this month, the buzz has backed down, which is too bad, because this fresh compilation of mid-1970s material deserves attention, at least on historical grounds. The heart of the box is The Beach Boys Love You album — the result of Brian Wilson being given his head after being dragooned back into the band for its 15th anniversary. It’s equal parts the pop genius of rock’s single greatest auteur (“Let Us Go On This Way”, “Honkin’ Down the Highway”, “The Night Was So Young”) and the painful gaucherie of a man battling for his mental health (“Good Time”, “I Wanna Pick You Up”), with both facets sometimes occupying the same song (see “Johnny Carson”, “Ding Dang”, “Solar System”). Meanwhile Carl & Dennis Wilson, Mike Love, Al Jardine and Brian’s voices can come across as tired, worn, even phlegmy, but the sound they make is still resonant and affecting. On the other hand, the sessions for the unreleased album Adult/Child are a headscratching mess – some glorious ideas (“Still I Dream Of It” was meant for Sinatra), blandly arranged for big band and excruciatingly sung. Lots of oldies from the 15 Big Ones sessions — genuinely classic production work on songs of variable quality — complete the tracklist; Brian’s one-man-band version of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” and Carl’s all-or-nothing take on “Shortnin’ Bread” are genuine highlights. But all of the above might be the Beach Boys’ rationale for all the stealth; Brian Wilson idolaters and hardcore fans like me will gobble it all up, but who beyond those subcultures will listen to a physical copy more than once? (If you’re with me, you can preorder the second pressing of We Gotta Groove from the Beach Boys’ webstore.)

The Replacements were nowhere in the vicinity of existential angst when 1983’s Let It Be became the talk of the college rock circuit; onstage they remained snotty punks from Minneapolis who couldn’t care less about – well, pick the topic! But as Paul Westerberg groped his way toward disciplined songcraft, catchy tunes like “I Will Dare”, “Unsatisfied” and “Sixteen Blue” looked through others’ eyes for the first time, gaining emotional depth in the bargain. And that lent the band’s goofiness (the seriocomic “Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out”, an unironic cover of KISS’ “Black Diamond”) an odd sense of purpose, their fury (“We’re Comin’ Out”, “Answering Machine”) a unexpected intensity. This new deluxe edition shows the ‘Mats flirting with — dare I say it — maturity in the studio, then blowing the very idea away with a raucous, forceful live set at Chicago’s Cubby Bear. On the brink of wider success and confronting the growing disinterest of wayward guitarist Bob Stinson (a fan of Yes & Asia’s Steve Howe – it does come through, fitfully), the Replacements couldn’t figure out how to deal with either. In many ways, that was this band’s tragedy, told most fully in Bob Mehr’s empathetic group bio Trouble Boys; forty years on, Let It Be catches them at their most openhearted, suspended between ramshackle chaos and the ambitious yet self-sabotaging major label career that followed. (Buy the Deluxe Edition of Let It Be at Rhino Records’ webstore.)

Finally, a last look at the legacy circuit: Thorsten Quaeschning’s continuation of Tangerine Dream has consistently played two hands since its reconstitution, creating excellent new electronica and marking substantial highlights in the original band’s career. Recorded in London in 2024, 50 Years of Phaedra – at the Barbican (trailer only here) does what it says in the title and more for good measure! 1974’s groundbreaking album is there in its entirety, but so is a mesmerizing multi-movement improvisation, seamlessly embedded within the suite by synth wizard Quaeschning, violinist Hosiko Yamane, and utility keyboardist Paul Frick. And if that’s not enough, a second disc enfolds the Dream’s 1980s albums, their soundtrack work from films to video games, and their recent creations; one flowing experience, both soothing and energizing, well worth the time you spend on this unique synthesized trip. (Buy 50 Years of Phaedra from Burning Shed.)

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes: What a (Buncha) Concept(s)!

On By kruekuttIn art rock, Big Big Train, hard rock, Insideout Music, jazz, Neal Morse, Progressive rockLeave a comment

I might be stretching this a bit, but I’d say that, whether it’s an album that tells a story or a collection that marks an anniversary or achievement (or maybe some do both), every one of the releases below has a concept behind it. Your mileage may vary, but keep that thought in mind as you read on. (Note: listening links are included in each album’s title listing; purchase links are included at the end of each review.)

Big Big Train, Woodcut: Nothing but kudos for BBT’s first rock opera from this corner! As I’ve said elsewhere, this band’s chemistry is a big part of why Woodcut is so strong, engrossing in a way that feels natural and organic. So many highlights here: The precise, tough group riffs of “The Artist” and “Albion Press,” accented with Greg Spawton’s distinctive bass licks and chiming 12-string guitar; “The Sharpest Blade’s”folk/metal mash-up, with Clare Lindley and Alberto Bravin working as lyrical and vocal foils to explore darker mental states; Nick D’Virgilio’s tour de force “Warp and Weft”, featuring herky-jerky guitar licks, spot-on a cappella backup vocals, and a soulful NDV lead. The entire album flows – especially from “Light Without Heat” through “Last Stand”, a finale that holds its own alongside any genre classic you could name. It’s all there: expansive musical themes, inspired solo work (especially from Oskar Holldorff and Rikard Sjoblom), gripping instrumental development in “Cut and Run” to set up the cathartic final anthem “Counting Stars”, with Bravin’s vocals soaring above it all. To sum up my reaction to Woodcut, the first time I heard it, I was definitely impressed; now, on repeat listens, it genuinely moves me. In other words, it does for me what Big Big Train’s music has consistently done for nearly ten years now. (Buy from The Band Wagon USA – and definitely pick up Andy Stuart’s book on the making and meaning of the album; it’s the closest you’ll get to the super-deluxe liner notes Passengers like me crave!)

Neal Morse Band (NMB), L.I.F.T: Whatever your take on the title acronym, Neal Morse and his compatriots (complete with Mike Portnoy parachuting in from Dream Theater’s drum throne) know how to whip up an epic. The structure may not be much different from previous efforts (though the first track is titled “Beginning” instead of “Overture”for a change) but there are plenty of musical twists and turns as L.I.F.T.’s everyman protagonist journeys from despair to delight via divine intervention. We get the heartland rock thrust of “Fully Alive”; the hard and heavy “Hurt People” with Eric Gillette contributing monstrous guitar and vocals; the multi-part altar call “Reaching”, featuring fabulous harmonizing and a collective shred over Bill Hubauer’s braying synth fanfares; the U2ish echofest “Carry You Again” propelled by Morse’s voice of God and Randy George’s fleet bass work. And wonders of wonders, “Love All Along” is a climactic conversion power ballad with a spine, effortlessly weaving in core lyrics and themes as Morse, Gillette and Hubauer take the whole thing higher multiple times! Great material, great playing; immediately qualifying for my year-end Favorites list, this is the best NMB has sounded since The Similitude of a Dream. (Buy from Radiant Records.)

Squeeze, Trixies: Fifty years on, Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook recover a lost past. Imagine a pair of working-class teenage Brit musicians, fallen head over heels for slice-of-life vignettes in the throes of the glam/prog/pub rock scrum of 1974. What else could they come up with but an concept album about the habitues of a sleazy, mobbed up members-only nightclub? Fleshed out from recently recovered original demos, this is vintage Squeeze in every sense; Difford’s clever yet plainspoken lyrics and Tillbrook’s sinuous, conversational melodies were already in place, even on influence-heavy tunes like the Bowie-adjacent “The Place We Call Mars”. These evocative sketches of characters (sympathetic or otherwise) whose lives revolve around Trixies (a stage, a haven, a gas, the place to be, ” Hell on Earth”, depending on who’s talking) pre-echo future classics like “Tempted” and “Hourglass”; the pin sharp current lineup of Squeeze, led by producer/bassist Owen Biddle, expertly weave convincing cabaret (“What More Can I Say”, “Good Riddance”) and stomping rock (“Why Don’t You”, “The Jaguars”) around their leaders’ smooth and salty vocals to craft a seamless whole. With this plus another entire album of new songs already in the can, the Lennon & McCartney of the 1980s seem primed to wow both waiting fans and unsuspecting listeners once again. (Buy from Rough Trade.)

Miles Davis, The Complete Live at the Plugged Nickel 1965: When Columbia recorded seven sets of Miles and his “Second Great Quintet” over two nights in a Chicago club, then tossed the tapes in a vault for twentysome years, did they realize they were sitting on a Rosetta Stone of modern jazz? That’s how these shockingly creative performances were greeted when they finally emerged, and it’s why this fresh reissue (an instant Favorite) is so welcome. Recovering from illness, Davis started the stand playing spaces as much as notes, then coming alive as he realized bassist Ron Carter and drummer Tony Williams’ commitment to new heights of rhythmic gamesmanship, stretching the beat to the breaking point and swinging all the while. Taking their cues, Herbie Hancock switched between single note bop lines and elliptical chording that clouded the harmony instead of clarifying it; all this proved catnip for Miles (constantly drilling through to the abstract essence of the melody) and saxophonist Wayne Shorter (getting gone from the start, launching fragments suggesting multiple keys and rhythms that coalesced into something strange yet true). It’s safe to say that the Plugged Nickel crowd had never heard blues (“Walkin'”), jazz standards (“Round Midnight”), ballads (“My Funny Valentine”, “Autumn Leaves”) and Davis’ signature tunes (“Milestones”, So What”) rendered in this fashion: floating and furious, following the multitonal trails blazed by Ornette Coleman and John Coltrane to break open fresh facets of already classic material. The third time (of at least five) Davis changed jazz, a key to so much great music that followed in his footsteps. (Buy from the Miles Davis 100 webstore.)

Bill Evans Trio, Haunted Heart: The Legendary Riverside Studio Recordings: If 1960s Miles was about freer, rougher expressionism, Evans (previously the pianist on Davis’ essential Kind of Blue) pursued the opposite affect – a harmonically refined, classically-tinged impressionism – throughout his painfully self-sabotaging career. But in the end, these proved diametric approaches in pursuit of the same goal: near-telepathic sensitivity within the small jazz group, leading to a unity founded in diversity of utterance. Evans’ first trio (with the phenomenally gifted Scott LaFaro on bass and the delicately grooving Paul Motian on drums) took this “conversation of equals” approach to astonishing heights before LaFaro’s tragic accidental death, mere days after their definitive recording live at New York City’s Village Vanguard; but the trio’s two studio albums Portrait in Jazz and Explorations are only micromillimeters below that exalted benchmark. Haunted Heart collects every take from those studio sessions, an embarrassment of musical riches. Through numerous, remarkably varied runthroughs and masters, Evans, LaFaro and Motian lovingly probe the essence of each tune; the quiet fire of ballads “When I Fall in Love” and “How Deep Is the Ocean” proves as engrossing as the restrained yet unmistakable drive of Evans’ “Peri’s Scope” and Miles’ “Nardis”, giving the lie to later critics who equated Evans’ ethos with shallow, unswinging lounge music. Evans has probably been the single most influential pianist in jazz from his heyday right up to the present, and this delectable collection shows why. (Buy from Craft Recordings.)

The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Bold As Love: This new 4-CD/BluRay set prompted a my first deep dive into Hendrix’s music in a long time. I came away unable to pick a clear favorite of the Experience studio albums; they’re all equally mind blowing in the best sense, as Jimi, bassist Noel Redding and drummer Mitch Mitchell melded the blues, psychedelia and soul into something utterly primal, yet progressive in every sense of the word. So bringing 1967’s Axis: Bold As Love’s mono and stereo mixes together with an Atmos version, session outtakes, live tracks and the occasional media promo appearance is as good a way as any to get a handle on Hendrix’s unique, eclectic genius. What the wild stereo panning and goofy humor of intro “EXP”, the breathtaking funk groove of “Wait Till Tomorrow”, the aching warmth of “Little Wing” and “One Rainy Wish” and the trippy fuzz of “If 6 Was 9” have in common is mind and heart in communion, longing and exultation running side by side, each informing and nourishing the other. And as with all of Hendrix’s work, this album proves yet again how utterly essential the man was in the development of the electric guitar; almost every track features an innovative lick that David Gilmour, Steve Howe or Robert Fripp took, ran with and made their own on some of my (and probably your) favorite albums. Rock lovers simply cannot go wrong listening to this. (Buy from the Hendrix webstore.)

No-Man, Loveblows & Lovecries (30th Anniversary); Scatter (Lost Not Lost Volume 2, 1991-1997): All the material on this double-disc Loveblows & Lovecries was also on 2024’s Housekeeping box, but for those who missed it (as well as hardcore fans of Tim Bowness and Steven Wilson – guilty!), it’s good to have No-Man’s debut album and its offshoots in one compact edition. With violinist Ben Coleman as equal contributor, Bowness and Wilson faced the challenge of balancing their muse’s promptings with the market-focused demands of label One Little Indian; the result is a seductive blend of artistic ambition (whether channeled into wicked dance grooves or lush, demonstrative ballads) and stoically-sung emotional torment. But Scatter is the fresh revelation here! These offcuts often go against the grain of the album projects they hail from; the gorgeous melancholy of “All the Reasons” proved as unsuitable to the extravagant mayhem of Wild Opera as the warped industrial jazz of “Gothgirl Killer” and “Samaritan Snare” to Returning Jesus‘ minimalist calm. Then there are the Flowermouth outtakes”Hard Shoulder” and “Coming Through Slaughter”, with King Crimson mainmen Robert Fripp and Mel Collins providing the necessary instrumental wigouts. Scatter is a surprisingly unified collection, a year-end Favorite in waiting, and perhaps the perfect introduction to No-Man’s special blend of quiet and chaos. (Buy from Burning Shed.)

Yes, Tales from Topographic Oceans (Super Deluxe Edition): Decades after the backlash surrounding its release, Topographic Oceans remains a double album easily vilified, but not lightly dismissed. Yes was committed to going over the top here; the journey from the extended song-form of “The Revealing Science of God” through the primal skronk of “The Remembering” and the multidirectional meanderings of “The Ancient” to the focused finale “Ritual” made few concessions to immediate comprehensibility and none to commerciality. In retrospect, it was a genuinely brave move, with Jon Anderson and Steve Howe leading the charge to the outer limits, Chris Squire and Alan White following gamely in their wake, and Rick Wakeman wondering what to do with himself as Yes’ tight arrangements gave way to spacious improvisation. In some ways, the three live concerts contained in this 15-disc LP/CD/BluRay box are the best showcase of Topographic’s full potential; even Wakeman rips it up on the Moog during Manchester’s version of “The Remembering”, while Howe consistently goes wild, his daring guitar arabesques setting off Anderson’s mystical hippie word salad to perfection. As always, Steven Wilson’s fresh remixes buff up every musical destination and detour to maximum clarity; plus there are instrumental-only versions, freshly discovered working tracks, and the usual plethora of extras. Probably the ultimate version of what remains Yes’ proggiest, grandest gesture. (Buy from Rhino.)

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes: Box Set Backlog, Part I

On By kruekuttIn art rock, folk music, glam rock, hard rock, Rock and Roll, singer-songwriterLeave a comment

(Note: artist/title listings link to available Spotify playlists.)

The Beatles, Anthology Collection. George Harrison himself pronounced the original Anthology a bunch of “barrel scrapings” – to which a Beatlemaniac like me could only respond, “Hand me that wooden spoon, would you?” Even back in the 1990s, I enjoyed volume 1 for its scruffy early demos and thrilling on-air performances (before the screaming took over), volume 2 for its glimpses of the Fabs blossoming as recording artists (along with, to be fair, some genuinely dreadful clunkers), and volume 3 for the astonishing homestretch of John, Paul & George’s songwriting that fueled The White Album, Abbey Road and Let It Be. The new Anthology 4 functions as a sped-up reprise of its three big brothers: rougher takes of early classic tunes, shot off in the studio like kids’ fireworks, dominate disc 1, while disc 2 excavates further surprises from the final years: you’ll never hear a more incandescent minute of rock than the proto-speed metal jam on Elvis’ “(You’re So Square) Baby I Don’t Care”! Recent Beatles boxes have seemed more a product of duty than delight on Apple’s part – is their deal with The Disney Channel cramping their style? – and Anthology Collection doesn’t really up their game. But there’s still moment after moment of pure joy here, not least the fresh reworkings of the Threetles’ “Free as a Bird” and “Real Love” right alongside McCartney & Starr’s elegiac “Now and Then”. So now then, can we pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease have that deluxe version of Rubber Soul?

David Bowie, I Can’t Give Everything Away [2001-2016]. Thanks to Cedric Hendrix (the man behind the marvelous blog Cirdec Songs) for flagging this one after I missed it last fall. By the 21st century, Bowie had powered through so many personae – Warholian theatre kid, rock/funk chamelon, hermetic avant-gardist, ravenous fame-chaser; now, it seemed, he had just decided to be himself. His Oughties albums Heathen and Reality, spooky and sleek in turn, were fabulously creative; their supporting tours showcased a Bowie at ease with his entire legacy, backed by an all-star musical entourage. Yet 2013’s The Next Day shook things up again, the music leaning into dark shadows and jagged edges, Bowie posing furious riddles of aging and mortality, veiling the answers in enigma and paradox. Then, one last leap forward: Blackstar, released mere days before Bowie’s death from cancer, a tense, soulful mix of fusion, hip-hop, pop, even a skosh of prog – the singer cutting his vocals live on the studio floor as a fresh quartet of New York jazzers pushed him hard all the way. Plenty of extras from the era here, along with enlightening liner notes and mouthwatering design work on the 13-disc box itself, but the revelation here is Bowie’s final, sustained artistic peak. Through all the changes fueled by his voracious brain, capacious heart, unmistakable croon and impeccable musical skills, the man never stopped reaching for the perfect moment; it’s simply spectacular how often he nails it in this set.

Bob Dylan, Through the Open Window: The Bootleg Series Vol. 18, 1958-1963. Whether at Midwestern college parties or in Greenwich Village clubs, the young Bobby Zimmerman hit American folk music like a thunderbolt, making an almighty racket with guitar, harmonica, and that annoying yet oddly compelling voice. This eight-disc set, riding the success of Oscar-nominated biopic A Complete Unknown, showcases both Dylan’s raw ambition and his prodigious artistic growth during his early years; clawing his way to headline gigs and a major-label record deal, drawing inspiration from blues and British folk traditions as his distinctive style takes shape, swept up in the Civil Rights Movement, he resists easy definition all the while. It all culminates in a sold-out Carnegie Hall concert that lays out Dylan’s achievement in full: there’s wickedly gleeful humor (“Talkin’ World War III Blues”, onstage banter aplenty); earnest protest both dated (“With God on Our Side”, “When the Ship Comes In”) and timeless (“Blowin’ in the Wind”, “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”, “Masters of War”); stark ballads of loneliness, injustice and vengeance (“Boots of Spanish Leather”, “Seven Curses”, “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll”); even a breathtaking paean to the sheer beauty of existence (“Lay Down Your Weary Tune”). Dylan’s reactions to JFK’s assassination and The Beatles’ ascent — moving into pure poetic sound and imagery, bringing it all back home to the rock’n’roll he grew up with by “going electric” — were still ahead, but this collection ably demonstrates both his game-changing impact on the folk subculture and how rapidly he grew beyond it.

Bruce Springsteen, Nebraska ’82: Expanded Edition. Consciously or not, Springsteen traveled Dylan’s path in reverse in the early 1980s. Hot off a triumphant international tour fronting the E Street Band (complete with hit single), The Boss went to ground, recording hushed, minimal home demos that expressed an outsider’s alienation, marinated in American dreams gone sour. These songs lay bare the haunted hearts of hapless, nihilistic outlaws (the title track, “Johnny 99”), family members at unending odds (“Highway Patrolman”, “My Father’s House”), immobilized victims of unspoken hopes (“Mansion on the Hill,” “Reason to Believe”). The new five-disc box ponies up on revealing extras, with additional solo demos (many of which wound up on future Springsteen releases in vastly different form) and wild, punkish full-band studio takes (the howling versions of “Downbound Train” and “Born in the USA” have to be heard to be believed). But, as unpacked in Warren Zanes’ fine 2023 book Deliver Me from Nowhere (the basis for the recent biopic), Nebraska itself resisted ornamentation. Whether in the fresh remaster of its original cassette form or in the BluRay of a 2025 solo performance, Bruce delivers everything these songs need and no more: a lonesome voice, mesmerizingly spare guitar, a few distant instrumental accents, and eerie slapback echo. Another game-changer — the sound of a dark, hallucinatory past, crawling up from underground to claim the singer’s soul.

The Who, Who Are You: Super Deluxe Edition. Caught between mid-1970s megastar doldrums and the first onslaught of Britpunk, Pete Townshend once again turned angst into art, a drunken night out in the company of selected Sex Pistols furnishing the lyrical core of his hypnotic title epic. Rallying his bandmates proved Townshend’s main challenge; a debauched Keith Moon had to be threatened with the sack to serve up even flashes of his former brilliance. And then Moon died. The sad circumstances have always colored the reception of Who Are You, but in retrospect it’s a fine album; nobody prays for transcendence as furiously as Townshend, and nobody dances all over life’s problems like The Who. Roger Daltrey defiantly confesses Townshend’s sins and perplexities on “New Song”, “Sister Disco” and “Music Must Change”; John Entwistle undercuts any heavy vibes with his blackly humorous “Trick of the Light”, “905” and “Had Enough” (the latter fiercely declaimed by Daltrey); and new mixes by – who else – Steven Wilson finally level the sonic score, bringing Pete’s blazing power chords right up front with the burbling synth beds and string sections. Demos and sessions, a drums-favoring alternate mix by Glyn Johns, chaotic rehearsals, a ferocious final show with Moon (filmed for classic rockdoc The Kids Are Alright) and a fiery double-disc sampling from the US tour that introduced Kenney Jones on drums are included in the eight-disc box, too.

— Rick Krueger

Big Big Train’s Alberto Bravin: the 2026 Progarchy Interview!

On By kruekuttIn Big Big Train, Insideout Music, Progressive rock1 Comment

Two years on from our first chat, Alberto Bravin of Big Big Train joins us again to bring us the inside scoop on the superb new BBT album Woodcut, released February 6th on Sony’s InsideOut label. (Woodcut is available for preorder on CD, CD/BluRay combo and vinyl from The Band Wagon USA and Burning Shed. Andy Stuart’s companion book Woodcut: The Making and the Meaning from Greg Spawton’s Kingmaker Publishing is also available.)

For Woodcut, Alberto was in on the genesis of the album concept and composed a substantial chunk of the material; in the studio, he sang lead vocals, played guitar and keys, and produced the whole thing – so he has plenty to share about its creation! A lightly edited transcript of our conversation follows the video.

So, first of all, congratulations on Woodcut. I’ve been able to listen to it and I’m really impressed and moved by it. It’s a powerful album.

Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.

You’re welcome. So, what was the original spark for its concept?

So, it was really random. Because we never talk about doing a concept seriously. Like, sitting down and saying, “Okay, we’re doing a concept album now.” We’ve never done it. So, me and Greg, we were on tour. We were in Oslo at the [Edvard] Munch Museum.

Okay.

And it was just me and Greg. I mean, we wake up early. We like to have a walk in the early morning. So, we went there and it’s an incredible place. Really, really nice. And everybody knows Munch for “The Scream.” That it’s his most famous painting. But I didn’t know, he actually made a lot of woodcuts.

So, we were there and there was a part of the museum about these woodcuts. And I know what a woodcut is. But I didn’t know that in English you call it woodcut. I knew the Italian word, but not the English word. So, as soon as I’ve seen the name woodcut, I just looked at Greg. And Greg looked at me and we said, “Oh, this is the title of a concept album!”[Laughs]

So, that moment was the actual spark of the concept. And we had no music, no story, no lyrics, nothing; it was just the title. And we started to work from there. [Laughs]

So, once you had that brain spark, how did the rest of the band react? And how did you go about fleshing out what would come from just that word association?

So, as I said, we were on tour. We were like on the bus together. And I think that night or maybe the day after, we just thought about it, me and Greg. And we said, “I think this is a good pitch to tell them what it could be about.” At the beginning, the idea was to write a story about Munch. That was the first idea. “Oh, he has an interesting story; it could be interesting.”

But then we wanted to have a little bit more freedom on the story. So, we kind of invented our own artist there. But we had this idea of a struggling artist. And it could have been something a little bit more magical. And the idea was to have kind of a dark album. But with the Big Big Train stamp on it.

So, we just told the other guys! Like a stream of words and stuff. And everybody was, “oh, this is great! Let’s do it!” And from there, everybody was aware of this. And everybody wrote some ideas or some songs or some melodies and stuff, and put it on a Dropbox folder. And then we started from there. We started from the music, actually. The lyrics came later.

Okay. And I know that happens a lot in the rock and roll field. You get the music and then you get the lyrics to go with it.

Yeah.

It’s also interesting to me, because certainly in Big Big Train’s history, there’s been this sense of craftsmanship. Of creativity. You see that in the lyrics. You see that in the sort of artisan, bespoke way the band has been run for such a long time. But it’s interesting that you decided to go in a slightly darker direction with it. That’s not necessarily what people have come to expect. Which I suppose is one reason to do it!

No, absolutely. I mean, if it’s easy, [laughs] I don’t like it. I want to do, every time, something different. And the approach was really different from The Likes of Us, the previous album, where we had some songs that were already there. And we kind of went for the Big Big Train way. Everything sounded, apart from the singer of course, like Big Big Train.

I think this time – this is just the photo of the band now. So there was nothing like a thought or something that we sat down and said, “Oh, we have to do this.” It was just so easy! We just wrote those songs and I put them together. And it just sounds like us now.

Well, yes. A couple of things pop in my head. First of all, I’ve seen you guys live twice with you in the lead. And both times I’ve noticed, wow, these guys really like each other and really like playing with each other. That vibe is constantly coming off the stage.

Oh, yeah.

And the other thing that I noticed when I was listening to Woodcut, I mean, it doesn’t have one extended track. The whole thing has that sense of organic growth, of heading for a destination.

Yeah.

And my question was going to be, did that fall into place? Was it a lot of hard work to get there? Or was it kind of both of the above?

It was a crazy amount of work. I mean, we had this folder with a lot of songs, songs and melodies, ideas and stuff.

From day one, I had the idea of, “If we’re doing a concept album. It’s going to be a proper concept album, like one hour of music. No stop. You cannot skip it. [Laughs] You have to listen to it.” So, yeah, the idea was that. Like a flow, like everything had to be linked and everything like this one song when it’s going to go into the other.

And so I put all the ideas and all the songs and all the melodies in a Logic project, like the DAW [digital audio workstation] that I use to do production and mixing and stuff. I had everything just laid down. And so from there, I tried to put them together like a Tetris thing. And I was like a crazy, crazy guy. I just cut it and pasted it and changed the keys and pitch. It was like a crazy, crazy moment. But I had the idea of this stream of music.

And whenever I was listening, I was hearing a strong theme or a line – of course, I didn’t invent something. It is the progressive thing – you have a theme, you repeat it. So I tried to do that as much as possible, find the way to put everything [in]. All the themes are repeating during the album. And one time it’s the trumpet; one time it’s the vocals; one time it’s guitar and everything put together.

So I remember I was working. I mean, I worked, more of one month just to have the initial idea of something. Because I wanted to present to the guys that – what I had in mind. Maybe it was a mistake! OK, I throw away one month of my life! But I wanted to. And so everybody was saying, “what is Alberto doing? Where’s the music?” They were waiting for me to just send a file to listen to!

And then I did actually. And everybody was really happy! Of course, we changed stuff; we changed it in the pre-production. But then when we went to the studio to record the album, we changed it again! We changed the set list; one song was completely written in the studio. We’re playing with these guys, it’s like this. We can do it! So it’s good.

Yeah. Before we go on into the recording process, just a little bit, you mentioned you were kind of following the classic concept album/rock opera model. It starts here; it goes to there. And I know Greg has mentioned in the publicity [Genesis’] The Lamb [Lies Down on Broadway] and [Yes’ Tales from]Topographic Oceans as the two [of the most] famous or infamous prog albums out there. Can you think of any models from prog history that maybe influenced you or even any that you tried to avoid?

[Laughs] I think so. I mean, I’m a huge fan of Transatlantic! And [The] Whirlwind is one of my favorite albums of all time. So that was that was one of – the ideas where, “oh, OK, they’re repeating this.” I mean, I love Neal [Morse]. He became like, well, not a friend; I know him, I sang with him and I was just a fan and I’m still a fan. But now knowing him, it was magical. I’m a huge, huge fan. So I love that.

But actually, I also listened to The Incident by Porcupine Tree. That’s a little bit more metal thing. But for the ideas, sometimes you can take the ideas.

And actually, I always go back to The Beatles and the Abbey Road medley. Sometimes always something where I have to refresh my ears. So I listen to that. “Oh, they did this in ‘69. I can do something in 2026! So let me try to do something.”

Exactly. All those really resonate with me: Transatlantic was kind of my gateway drug back into prog after some time away. And Abbey Road I’ve loved since I was a kid.

Yeah! And of course, Genesis, of course Yes. There are a lot of incredible concept albums. But yeah, those were “just go in there, just in the background, just to have a listen and to get inspired.”

Well, you learn from the masters, it’s true.

Absolutely, yes, of course.

So I wanted to play kind of a lightning round game with you. And this can be maybe talking about your time in the studio, especially, but also about the rest of the development process. I wanted to ask you your perspective on what each of your bandmates kind of brought to Woodcut that’s special.

[More after the jump . . .]

Continue reading “Big Big Train’s Alberto Bravin: the 2026 Progarchy Interview!” →

kruekutt’s 2025 Favorites

On By kruekuttIn art rock, avant-garde, classical, Discipline, folk music, Haken, hard rock, Insideout Music, jazz, jazz rock, Pink Floyd, pop, progressive metal, Progressive rock, Rock and Roll, singer-songwriterLeave a comment

It’s been a good year for music! So good it demanded a slightly different format this time around. You can read my original reviews of my 40 or so favorites from 2025 at the article links that precede each listicle. Listings include the types of release as laid out below, with Top Favorite listings in bold italics (as well as pictured above)!

  • New Releases:
    • New Albums
    • Live Albums (audio and video)
    • Christmas Albums
  • Back Catalog:
    • Reissues
    • Box Sets (minimum of 3 CDs)
    • Discoveries (unheard until 2025)
    • Rediscoveries (heard before, forgotten, loved again in 2025)
  • New Music Books

Clean-Up on Aisle 24 (January)

  • Mike Campbell and the Dirty Knobs, Virgins, Vagabonds and Misfits – discovery from 2024
  • Wilco, Hot Sun Cool Shroud – discovery from 2024

Gotta Lotta Live If You Want It (February)

  • Steve Hackett, Metamorpheus – reissue from 2024
  • Soft Machine, Drop – reissue from 2024
  • Soft Machine, Floating World Live – reissue from 2024

Box Set Report, Q1 (March)

  • Sonic Elements, IT: A 50th Anniversary Celebration of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway by Genesis – new album
  • Wilco, A Ghost Is Born Deluxe Edition – box set
  • Yes, Close to the Edge Super Deluxe Edition – box set

Phil Keaggy: The Progarchy Interview (April)

  • Phil Keaggy & Sunday’s Child – rediscovery from 1988 – Top Favorite Rediscovery!
  • Phil Keaggy & Malcolm Guite, Strings & Sonnets – discovery from 2024

Lightning Round Reviews (April)

  • Black Country New Road, Forever Howlong – new album
  • Andy Summers & Robert Fripp, The Complete Recordings 1981-1984 – box set
  • Imminent Sonic Destruction, Floodgate – new album
  • Sons of Ra, Standard Deviation – new album

May Quick Takes

  • Haken, Liveforms – live album & video
  • Ian Leslie, John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs – Top Favorite New Music Book!

June Quick Takes

  • Louise Patricia Crane, Netherworld – discovery from 2024
  • Markus Reuter with Fabio Trentini and Asaf Sirkis, Truce ❤ – new album

Summer’s End

  • Dave Bainbridge,
    • On the Edge (Of What Could Be) – Top Favorite New Album! (tie with Brad Mehldau below)
    • Veil of Gossamer – discovery from 2004
    • Celestial Fire – discovery from 2014
    • Celestial Fire Live in the UK – live album; discovery from 2017
  • Bioscope, Gento – new album
  • Discipline, Breadcrumbs – new album

Q4 Quick Takes

  • David Gilmour,
    • The Luck and Strange Tour – live album
    • Live at the Circus Maximus – live video – Top Favorite Live Album! (tie with Snarky Puppy below)
  • Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here 50 – multiple formats – Top Favorite Reissue!
  • Ring Van Möbius, Firebrand – new album
  • Kate Rusby, Christmas Is Merry – live album – Top Favorite Christmas Album!
  • Sigur Ros, Takk – remastered reissue
  • The Zombies, Odessey and Oracle (Mono Remaster) – reissue

Classical & Jazz

  • Brad Mehldau, Ride into the Sun – Top Favorite New Album! (tie with Dave Bainbridge above)
    • Elliott Smith
      • Either/Or – discovery from 1997
      • XO – discovery from 1998 – Top Favorite Discovery!
  • Snarky Puppy
    • Sylva (with Metropole Orkest) – remastered reissued live album
    • We Like It Here – remastered reissue
    • Somni (with Metropole Orkest) – Top Favorite Live Album! (tie with David Gilmour above; audio & video)
  • Tenebrae, A Prayer for Deliverance – live album
  • Tortoise, Touch – new album

And Shockingly Unreviewed Until Now:

  • BEAT, Neon Heat Disease/Strange Spaghetti – live album. Read my concert review from 2024 here.
  • Nick Drake, The Making of Five Leaves Left – Top Favorite Box Set! An utter original who died far too young, Drake’s wistful, sturdy, thoroughly unique British folk-rock gradually rose from turn-of-the-1970s obscurity to be embraced by aficionados worldwide. While his three albums (and another disc of studio leftovers) speak for themselves, this lovely box traces his progress over two formative years, from impromptu dorm-room recordings through a breathtaking audition and simpatico sessions (especially those with double bass magician Danny Thompson and master orchestrator Robert Kirby) to the uncluttered, spacious beauty of his debut. If Drake needs any advocacy beyond the sheer communicative power of his songs, here’s all the evidence you need; and as a bonus, long-time fans will find treasures they may not have known they were missing.

— Rick Krueger