Category: americana

Rick’s Quick Takes for Spring

On By kruekuttIn americana, Andy Tillison, country, hard rock, Insideout Music, jazz, krautrock, Neal Morse, progressive rock, The Tangent1 Comment

For your consideration, recent releases from the worlds of prog, jazz, folk, country and marvelously unclassifiable music. As usual, purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listing, with streaming previews below the review.

Can, Live in Paris 1973: Another immensely enjoyable archive release from the guys who sent krautrock into orbit with a winning combination of tight grooves and freeform jamming. The fresh angle this time around is the presence of late vocalist Damo Suzuki; locking in with Jaki Liebezeit’s propulsive percussion, the throbbing bass of Holger Czukay, and Michael Karoli and Irwin Schmidt’s guitar/keyboard interplay, Suzuki burbles, banters, bickers – a daffy, devious jester who pulls improvised melody and lyric from thin air as he goes along. Oh, and forget about sounding “just like the records” – studio tracks “One More Night” and “Spoon” are touched on to kick off the jams, then abandoned or deepened, stretched like taffy to the point of sonic hypnosis, mannnn . . . Five gripping examples of Can’s live prowess; whether they could actually stop time or not (it may have been the psychedelics), these ninety minutes of unbridled creativity go by in a flash.

The Bill Fay Group, Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow: Ignored in the late 1960s and early 70s, British singer-songwriter Fay achieved cult favorite status after Wilco covered his hymnic “Be Not So Fearful” in the wake of 9/11. Utterly unlike the manneristic Dylan-meets-Kinks pop of his debut or the bleak rock crunch of 1971’s lost classic Time of the Last Persecution (both well worth seeking out), these vibrant demos from 1977 capture the gentle Christian mysticism at the heart of Fay’s songs, executed with grace and empathy by the three-piece Acme Quartet (?). The multiple versions of meditations like “Strange Stairway”, “Isles of Sleep” and “Life” radiate understated grace and power, foregoing apocalyptic panic to embrace simple, jubilant confessions of faith (“So that the world might believe/That Life has risen/That Life has conquered”). Prayers and hypnotic invocations that invite and welcome without rancor or hectoring, couched in song that’s timeless yet vividly in the moment.

Sierra Ferrell, Trail of Flowers: Widescreen mountain music for the anxious generation, this went straight to my 2024 Favorites list. In West Virginia native Ferrell’s sure grasp, her second album mounts to melodramatic heights on the wings of old time country. Ferrell’s sly, witty songwriting whiplashes between Americana subgenres to perfection; her opening run of originals – yearning road dog anthem “American Dreaming”, cautionary honky-tonk stomp “Dollar Bill Bar”, giddy fiddle reel “Fox Hunt”, and string-swathed heartbreaker “Wish You Well” left me astonished in the wake of their range and breadth. There isn’t a dud track here (check out jaunty Latin-tinged romp “Why Haven’t You Loved Me Yet”, murder ballad “Rosemary”, hybrid gospel/love song “Lighthouse” – oh heck, all of ’em); when you add in Ferrell’s beguiling voice (spanning the spectrum of twang from Janis Joplin to Dolly Parton and all points between) and gutsy fiddle work, plus producer Eddie Spear’s rich gothic ambience, the result is thoroughly winning. Believe the hype – if anybody can save country music from Greater Nashville’s ongoing torrent of processed pop, artists like Sierra Ferrell and Charley Crockett (both playing my local outdoor amphitheater this summer) are your best bet.

Vijay Iyer, Compassion: Building on the near-telepathic teamwork they established on 2021’s Uneasy (one of my faves from that year), pianist Iyer, bassist Linda May Han Oh and drummer Tyshawn Sorey come out swinging with this full-on follow-up. The impressionistic title tune shimmers into focus, with the trio relying on space and silence as much as sound; a luscious take on Stevie Wonder’s “Overjoyed” doubles as a tribute to Chick Corea, inspired by Iyer’s opportunity to play the late legend’s own piano. Whether on the angular, driving “Ghostrumental” or the rugged throwback blues “It Goes”, Oh pulls gorgeous melodies out of the air, Sorey whips up a seething percussive stew even as he grooves, and Iyer stirs in one heady, pensive idea after another. Iyer characterizes the music as “a reminder, an assurance, a plea, and perhaps an inspiration – to find each other in this together”; it’s a tribute to these exceptional musicians that, with what seems like maximum grace and minimum sweat, Compassion tangibly conjures up the empathy it advocates in sound.

Joel Ross, nublues: Chicago-born vibraphonist Ross impressed me to no end when I caught him live as part of the Blue Note 85th-Anniversary All-Star Band this past January. His fourth album is of a piece with his previous three: a soundworld of abstract yet delightfully contemplative jazz, soaked in the blues, always tumbling and turning with a non-stop flow of invention. Ross’ interaction with young saxophone lion Immanuel Wilkins (also an All-Star), Jeremy Corren on piano and bass/drums duo Kanoa Mendenhall and Jeremy Corren are the secret sauce at the music’s heart, whether putting their own spin on Thelonious Monk’s “Evidence” or John Coltrane’s “Equinox” and “Central Park West”, conjuring the title track from thin air – Mendenhall shines on bowed bass here – or building “Bach (God the Father in Eternity)” into a steamrolling surge of gospel-soaked eloquence. It’s like crashing a conversation already in progress and discovering you were invited all along.

SiX by SiX, Beyond Shadowland: Robert Berry, Ian Crichton and Nigel Glockler hit hard and strong, blasting past Difficult Second Album Syndrome to craft a wild and wooly extension of their first-rate debut. Sonically, this one comes across hotter and crunchier, as multi-instrumentalist Berry corrals Crichton’s hypercreative guitar licks into decidedly unconventional song structures, then layers in heaping helpings of lyrical positivity, while Glockler lays down rock solid percussive foundations. The result is a record that gets stronger as it goes, with head-turning surprises that stack up thick and fast: the acoustic-based sci-fi narrative “Obiliex”, the slashing, tribally funky “Titans”, the fuzz-toned flutter of “Sympathize” and, in “One Step”, an epic that progresses from yearning balladry through a proggy midsection to a hip-hop shuffle that works! Add in the relatively straight-up singles “Arms of a Word” and “The Mission” and you have a sophomore effort that oozes both mass appeal and maximum creativity. Check out the new Progarchy interview with Robert Berry here.

The Tangent, To Follow Polaris (released May 10): On which Andy Tillison takes off the gloves. Playing all the instruments himself (the album’s labeled “Tangent for one”) with style and panache, Tillison sails confidently through textures ranging from glitchy electronica to vintage soul and funk, with generous lashings of his trademark organ and synthesizer throughout. Kaleidoscopic overture/mission statement “The North Sky” lays down Tillison’s lyrical marker on graspable truth; brooding ballad-of-the-algorithm “A Like in the Darkness” paints a genuinely creepy portrait of online life; “The Fine Line” muses on the commodification of journalism, “destroy[ing] the world to sell the story”. Then on “The Anachronism”, Andy lets it rip – a furious jeremiad calling out both the ineffectual monocracy that’s lost its grip on events and the self-absorbed masses who watch it all happen on their phones. The whole thing builds to a crashing, anarchic climax – only to return to Tillison’s beginning, “follow[ing] the North Star/(When all around me seems to be going South)”. Be warned: something Tillison sings on this audacious, accomplished effort will probably cheese you off – but only because, in a world of grinning provocateurs, shameless attention whores and cynical game players, he’s a genuine idealist, with no other agenda than speaking his mind and wondering why we can’t have a better world.

Transatlantic, Morsefest 2022: The Absolute Whirlwind: Or should this be subtitled, “More Never Is Enough . . . Yet Again, Still”? Transatlantic’s second live set off the back of 2022’s The Absolute Universe, this five-CD, two-BluRay set certainly doesn’t skimp on the quantity. There’s five hours of music here from two consecutive nights: the twin album-length epics that provide the release’s title, three elongated ballads, a side-long Procol Harum cover, and bits and bobs of five more extended extravaganzas from the back catalog. It’s not all gravy; there are brief instants where the energy flags and, as Neal Morse and Roine Stolt strain to sing the high notes, I’m reminded that it’s been 25 years since this supergroup first crashed into the prog world’s consciousness. But these are far outnumbered by the moments where Morse, Stolt, Pete Trewavas, Mike Portnoy and “fifth Transatlantic” Ted Leonard fire up the afterburners and launch into startlingly tight ensemble passages, awe-inspiring solos, pin-sharp vocal counterpoint (often backed up by a real choir), dizzying transitions and over-the-top, orchestrally augmented climaxes. Too much of a good thing? It’s possible – but, with the recent news that Portnoy’s resumed the drum chair in Dream Theater, Transatlantic isn’t a good thing to be taken for granted.

— Rick Krueger

2023 In Review: kruekutt’s Final Favorites

On By kruekuttIn americana, classical, country, pop, progressive rock, Rock and Roll1 Comment

Well – that was a longer break than anticipated. (Sometimes, as John Lennon sang, “Life is what happens to you/While you’re busy making other plans.”) Thanks for your patience and ongoing support as we wave goodbye to 2023 and 2024 begins! 

Thanks as well to Time Lord and Bryan for their 2023 wrap-ups. The flow of excellent new and reissued music continued unabated in November and December; below are some further favorites (plus some I didn’t get around to before my last post), with listening links and “micro-quick takes” to match.

The Beatles, 1962-1966 & 1967-1970: The pioneering 1973 compilations get a cutting-edge makeover. The “Red” album expands by 12 tracks — more covers, more George vocals, more from Revolver — and everything’s finally remixed to breathtaking true stereo by Giles Martin. The “Blue” album broadens the picture of the Fab Four’s later years via 9 more tracks, with the archival swan song “Now and Then” (read Time Lord’s elegiac appreciation here) serving as a lovely, definitive coda. Fifty years on, a reminder of what all the shouting was about – and why Beatlemania has never really gone away.  

Kerensa Briggs, Requiem: The first new classical piece I’ve fallen in love with in a long time. Briggs is a young British choral composer with formidable gifts and a direct, appealing style; based in chant and ripened with echoes of the French romantics, her Requiem cuts straight to the heart of grief, consoling the listener’s spirit with its rich settings of Scriptural promises. The Choir of King’s College London, conducted by Joseph Fort, responds vibrantly on the major piece and other short works (including a setting of the Taoist text “Inner Light” that George Harrison nicked for a Beatles B-side). Restorative, uplifting and highly recommended.

Charley Crockett, Live from the Ryman Auditorium: A recent Nashville vacation (including a night at the Grand Ole Opry) triggered a deep dive into all things country — traditional, bluegrass, alternative, modern, you name it. Leaning on his Gothic concept album The Man from Waco, Texas troubadour Crockett and his band The Blue Drifters electrify a sold-out Mother Church of Country Music with this generous, rambunctious set. One of the most eclectic artists in the genre today, Crockett flavors his honky-tonk stew with everything from mariachi to Motown (check out “I’m Just A Clown”), from funk to deep blues, with props to Red Dirt forebears like James Hand and Townes Van Zandt along the way — and his thick, chewy baritone sells it all.  If you crave some down-home listening, you can’t go wrong here.

Peter Gabriel, i/o: Yeah, PG has been promising new music for twenty years — but, boy, has he delivered the goods! Released a track at a time every full moon, the finished album (available in three different mixes) is a hypnotic, seductive delight all the way. Whether on atmospheric opener “Panopticom”, melancholy meditations “Playing for Time” and “And Still”, or upscale worldbeat anthems “Road to Joy” and “Olive Tree”, killer hooks, arresting soundscapes and neoclassic soul melodies abound. It’s Gabriel as you remember him — including those lyrics that swing wildly between sappy motivational speeches and sage advice — freshly retooled and energized, blazing a hopeful, humanistic path thru this century’s chaos.

King Crimson, Larks’ Tongues in Aspic XL: Robert Fripp wasn’t kidding when he called the 1972-73 incarnation of Crimson a magic band. John Wetton on bass and Bill Bruford on drums bring the muscle; David Cross on violin and Jamie Muir on percussion add thrills in the moment. Arguably, the crunching Hendrix-meets-Stravinsky title tracks, menacing balladry of “Exiles” and improvised mojo of “The Talking Drum” set the template for the rest of KC’s career. This 2-CD/2-BluRay set includes a new spatial audio mix by (who else?) Steven Wilson, an “Elemental Mix” that spotlights individual contributions and the complete sessions for nerds like me who want to know how the sausage got made. Explosive, unstoppable stuff.

Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives, Altitude: Whether backing greats like Lester Flatt and Johnny Cash, riding his “hillbilly boogie” to a successful solo career, or charming Ken Burns’ documentary audiences, Stuart comes as close to the living personification of country music as anybody. Here he and his stellar backing band lay down some serious hoodoo: “Sitting Alone” fuses tight harmonies to a Byrdsy guitar jangle, the title track twangs with abandon, “Tomahawk” joyfully calls down the Second Coming in double time, and a hush descends for the haunting “And the Angels Came Down.” A fresh helping of Cosmic American Music as pioneered by The Grateful Dead and Gram Parsons: sleek, gutsy and deeply satisfying.

And in review, the list of my other favorite releases and reissues of the year, covered in previous Quick Takes (links are to my original articles):

Stay tuned, won’t you? With new albums due soon from Neal Morse, The Pineapple Thief, Steve Hackett, The Bardic Depths and Big Big Train (not to mention BBT’s first US tour this March), the Rockin’ Republic of Prog is ready for a banner year!

— Rick Krueger

In Concert, October 14, 2023: Bob Dylan’s Imperial Progress

On By kruekuttIn americana, blues, folk rock, Rock and Roll, vernacular musicLeave a comment

I get into trouble and I hit the wall
No place to turn – no place at all
I pick a number between one and two
And I ask myself what would Julius Caesar do?

Bob Dylan, “My Own Version of You”

Shortly after Bob Dylan barked out those couplets to the audience at Grand Rapids’ DeVos Performance Hall, he answered his rhetorical question with another recent tune: “I prayed to the cross and I kissed the girls and I crossed the Rubicon”. So it was no surprise that, on a night where the 82-year-old icon genially lorded it over his band and a capacity crowd, another historical JC crept into the setlist too . . .

But let’s rewind. Hitting the stage in a black sequined suit and white hat, Dylan planted himself behind a baby grand piano and promptly dispelled any expectations of a by-the-numbers night of bygone hits. The opener was recognizable as the 1970s deep track “Watching the River Flow” — but only just. Words were stretched out, scrunched together and slurred, melodies recast on the very edge of speech, the original flowing folk song juiced up by jumpin’ R&B from the backup quintet. To top it off, Dylan took all the solos — ranging from inspired rhythmic riffs to maddeningly repeated three-note licks (the kind you played in grade-school piano duets) that occasionally locked in with the band’s chords. The message was clear: “I’m doing whatever I want with these songs tonight. Keep up.”

To their credit, Dylan’s crew did just that, with style to spare. Whether on electric or stand-up bass, long-time musical director Tony Garnier’s pulse was always squarely in the pocket; guitarists Bob Britt and Doug Lancio’s sturdy strumming kept the songs plowing forward, even when their boss pulled back on the melodies and rhythms. With the vehicle in motion, utility player Donnie Herron piled on the colorful trim — floating pedal steel guitar, countrified fiddle, sprightly mandolin. And drummer Jesse Pentecost, the newest band member, gave it all a kick in the pants, changing and chopping the grooves of every tune from Dylan’s latest album of new material, Rough and Rowdy Ways. Nothing was straight off the record: slow blues spread out into shuffles; crawling ballads shifted up a gear to more fluid tempos; the whimsical meditation “Key West (Philosopher Pirate)” turned into film noir, darkening on a dime during an ominous, reharmonized refrain. If details got lost in the roar of the journey, it proved an exhilarating ride. (And Dylan was digging it — late in the set, he introduced the band members by name, which apparently only happens when he’s in a good mood.)

Dylan proved equally daring on a relatively obscure selection of vintage tunes, taking the reinventions of this year’s live-in-studio Shadow Kingdom even farther. “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” careened from free-tempo intro to Little Richard stomper (complete with Jerry Lee Lewis piano glisses) to a hard-braked burlesque finale. “To Be Alone With You” got the full honky-tonk treatment, courtesy of Pentecost’s loping backbeat and Herron’s cry-in-your-beer filigree. Given the nature of the night, the biggest surprise wasn’t that Dylan’s fundamentalist calling card “Gotta Serve Somebody” cropped up as a rockabilly-flavored rhumba; it was that the only cover of the set, Chuck Berry’s “Nadine”, was played and sung absolutely straight (and garnered as much applause as anything else)!

Though I’ve gotta say the biggest kick for me was the relaxed finale: “Every Grain of Sand”, one of Dylan’s numerous farewells to whoever or whatever threatened to cramp his style over the decades. A final fruit of his evangelizing years, it proved a graceful closer for the evening, a benediction of sorts on the rapt audience, complete with Bob’s only harmonica solo of the night after the final lyrics:

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other times it’s only me
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.

At which point, Bob Dylan carefully hobbled to center stage, stood there bathed in applause, smiled, and — the very embodiment of Boomer noblesse oblige — took leave of the 2,000 mere mortals before him, off to future stops on his latest imperial progress.

— Rick Krueger

Setlist:

  • Watching the River Flow
  • Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I’ll Go Mine)
  • I Contain Multitudes
  • False Prophet
  • When I Paint My Masterpiece
  • Black Rider
  • My Own Version of You
  • I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight
  • Crossing the Rubicon
  • To Be Alone with You
  • Key West (Philosopher Pirate)
  • Gotta Serve Somebody
  • I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give Myself to You
  • Nadine
  • Mother of Muses
  • Goodbye Jimmy Reed
  • Every Grain of Sand

Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part 3

On By kruekuttIn americana, art rock, blues, country, folk music, jazz, jazz rock, Neal Morse, Pink Floyd, progressive rock, punk rock, thrash metal, vernacular music1 Comment

Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Bandcamp for streaming and purchasing, or to Spotify/YouTube for streaming with a additional purchase link following the review.

Neal Morse, The Dreamer – Joseph, Part One: For his latest rock opera a la 2019’s Jesus Christ the Exorcist, Morse and his studio sidekicks swerve toward hard-hitting blues-rock; the usual “Overture” and the narrative tracks “Burns Like A Wheel” and “Gold Dust City” are stuffed to the brim with chunky organ and grunged-up wah-wah guitar work. Wailing vocals from the cast of Christian Progressive Rock stalwarts who play Jacob, Joseph’s brothers and his Egyptian captors slot right in; even the power ballads (“The Pit”) have more grit this time around! And while the second half of the album is stylistically slicker (complete with classical chorale “I Will Wait on the Lord”), the hooky closer “Why Have You Forsaken Me?” pulls all the musical threads together, with Morse’s emotive portrayal of Joseph setting up intriguing possibilities for Part 2 — which, given his extravagant productivity, shouldn’t be too long in coming. Order from Radiant Records here.

Tu-Ner, T-1 Contact Information: Power trio improvisation that takes no prisoners, from another eerily luminous satellite band orbiting the gravity well of King Crimson. Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto formed one of Crimson’s most ferocious rhythm sections in the early 2000s, also recording together as TU; here Mastelotto clatters away merrily on his sonic smorgasbord of drums and percussion, while Gunn unleashes the deepest, fattest bass licks known to subwoofers. Above and around the Rhythm Buddies’ brutalist bedrock, Markus Reuter (who’s worked with Mastelotto in the duo Tuner and the trio Stick Men) unleashes slashing, swooping touch guitar lines and dark, brooding soundscape clouds — and when Gunn joins him on the higher end, sparks really fly. Always arresting, intermittently galvanizing, but the track titles (or this review for that matter) can’t really give you a feel for what this sounds like. In other words, you’ve gotta hear what Tu-Ner do to believe it.

Richard Wright, Wet Dream: In case you ever wondered exactly what keyboardist Wright brought to Pink Floyd, his 1978 solo album has it in spades. On tracks like “Mediterranean C” and “Drop In from the Top” lush, floating chord progressions set up open-ended jams by guitarist Snowy White and sax legend Mel Collins; Wright’s reedy voice spins out languid vignettes of detachment and disillusion such as “Summer Elegy” and “Holiday”. All thoroughly gorgeous (especially in this immaculate new Steven Wilson remix), occasionally funky, ineffably melancholy — and not terribly urgent in isolation. Still, you can hear the breathing space that Floyd lost as Wright faded into the background and Roger Waters began repeatedly kicking his audience in the head on The Wall. Order from Rhino Records here.

Ultravox, Quartet [Deluxe Edition]: Speaking of immaculate Steven Wilson remixes: this is his third in a series for the British new wave quartet. Regrouping after early personnel changes, Ultravox struck a quirky vein of New Romantic post-punk on 1980’s Vienna, then pursued cutting-edge Krautrock on the follow-up Rage in Eden. Connecting with legendary producer/5th Beatle George Martin, frontman Midge Ure, violinist/keyboardist Billly Currie, bassist Chris Cross and drummer Warren Cann aimed straight for the charts; Quartet is as pure of a pop album as they ever achieved. The UK singles “Reap the Wild Wind,” “Hymn,” “Visions in Blue” and “We Came to Dance” have an irresistible mix of rock drive, synth-pop color and devil-may-care melody, and the album tracks slot right in; the whole thing’s overripe and melodramatic in the most appealing way. Plenty of extras in the 7-disc box too, with b-sides, rarities, rehearsal tapes, studio monitor mixes and an intense live set all included. Order from the Ultravox store here.

Continue reading “Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part 3” →

Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part Two

On By kruekuttIn americana, country, folk rock, hard rock, Insideout Music, jazz folk, jazz rock, Neal Morse, progressive rock, Rock and Roll, vernacular musicLeave a comment

Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Bandcamp for streaming and purchasing, or to Spotify/YouTube for streaming with a additional purchase link following the review.

First off, the triple-disc elephant in the room: the Neal Morse Band’s An Evening of Innocence & Danger: Live in Hamburg. Morse, Eric Gillette, Bill Hubauer, Randy George and Mike Portnoy deliver exactly what the title says, plowing through the NMB’s most recent conceptual opus with the added excitement of rougher vocal edges and elongated opportunities for face-melting solos. Welcome deep cuts at the end of each set plus the heady mashup encore “The Great Similitude” heat things up nicely. The band’s delight in being back in front of a transatlantic audience comes through with (sorry not sorry) flying colors. Order from Radiant Records here.

Motorpsycho, on the other hand, cools things down on their new, palindromically titled Yay! This time around, Bent Sæther, Magnus “Snah” Ryan and Tomas Järmyr back off the booming drones, steering into light acoustic textures and Laurel Canyon vocal harmonies for a fresh, intimate variation on their spiraling neopsychedelia. Even with titles like “Cold & Bored” and “Dank State (Jan ’21)”, the results are inviting and exhilarating. (And don’t worry — the band’s penchant for the long jam is alive and well on more expansive tracks like “Hotel Daedelus” and closer “The Rapture”) My favorite from this crew since 2017’s The Tower.

And, seconding Russell Clarke, I heartily recommend I Am the Manic Whale’s Bumper Book of Mystery Stories. Dialing down the snark of previous albums and turning up the atmospherics, it’s a thematically linked suite of veddy veddy British melodic prog vignettes engineered to thrill and disturb. Michael Whiteman and his jolly compatriots seem absolutely delighted to creep you out on “Ghost Train”, send your head spinning on “Erno’s Magic Cube”, and drag you into headlong adventure on land (“Secret Passage”), sea (“Nautilus”) and outer space (“We Interrupt This Broadcast . . .”). I felt like a kid again!

Meanwhile, Greta Van Fleet come slamming back with Starcatcher. With the polished studio sound of 2021’s The Battle of Garden’s Gate well and truly ditched, Frankenmuth, Michigan’s finest get down and dirty here, launching one ferocious rocker after another and mounting a stairway to . . . somewhere? on the trippy single “Meeting the Master.” Yeah, GVF still wear their influences on their capacious sleeves, and sometimes feel a bit inside the box for all the Kiszka brothers’ ecstatic caterwauling. But getting the Led out to Generation Z still strikes me as a worthwhile mission, and to see these young’uns keep the flame alight is all an aging rocker could ask for. Order from GVF’s webstore here.

Continue reading “Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer, Part Two” →

Rick’s Quick Takes for Summer – Part One

On By kruekuttIn americana, art rock, Big Big Train, blues, country, hard rock, Industrial, pop, post punk, progressive rock, psychedelic rock, punk rock, Rock and Roll, southern rock, thrash metal, vernacular musicLeave a comment

Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Bandcamp for streaming and purchasing, or to Spotify for streaming with a additional purchase link where available.

Starting with an obvious choice around these parts: Ingenious Devices proves a winning Big Big Train compilation, featuring Greg Spawton’s life-enhancing explorations of humanity’s drive to expand its reach. Vividly orchestrated reworkings of “East Coast Racer” and “Brooklands” join a remix of Grand Tour’s “Voyager” and a stirring live take of “Atlantic Cable” featuring new lead singer Alberto Bravin; the result is a fresh, vital, thoroughly moving suite of prog epics. Recommended without hesitation!

Southern rockers Drive-By Truckers have also reached back — fleshing out their classic 2004 effort as The Complete Dirty South, the double album they originally conceived. Triple-threat guitarist/songwriters Patterson Hood, Mike Cooley and Jason Isbell reel off tale after compelling tale of characters caught in desperate circumstances, torn between bad choices, clinging to vagrant hopes. Their rampaging hard-rock energy, seasoned with delicate country soul balladry, is what elevates the whole concept beyond haunted fatalism to an intense meditation on courage in the face of overwhelming odds. (Having left the DBTs in 2007, Jason Isbell continues to go from strength to strength. His brand-new effort with The 400 Unit, Weathervanes, brings tons of sharp writing and fiery playing to a clutch of deeply empathetic Americana narratives, topped with irresistible choruses and just a pinch of classic rock a la Bruce, The Byrds and Neil Young. Whatever your take on country music, you really shouldn’t miss either of these.)

Also on the reissue front, Gentle Giant’s 1976 effort Interview now has a spruced-up, punchy remix from Steven Wilson (available here) that breezily clarifies the British quintet’s counterpoint vocals (“Design”), interweaving instrumental lines (the title track, frenetically funky closer “I Lost My Head”) and multistylistic hijinks (the unanticipated reggae chorus of “Give It Back”). The Moody Blues’ second release of 1969, To Our Children’s Children’s Children, becomes their third vintage set to get the multi-disc box treatment – though it’s only available digitally in the US. While the album proper leans toward studio psychedelia laced with wispy slow-dance tunes and the odd cabaret flourish, the bonus live tracks (including a complete set from the Royal Albert Hall) reveal the Moodies as quite the stomping rock outfit, slipping the leash on the album’s single “Gypsy,” the encore “Ride My Seesaw” and core tracks from Days of Future Passed.

Live releases have picked up again as well. For their concert video debut Island Live (available through Magenta’s Tigermoth label), Jem Godfrey’s tech-forward quartet Frost* reap a whirlwind harvest of monumentally proportioned prog. With bassist Nathan King and drummer Craig Blundell anchoring the jumpy polyrhythms, guitarist John Mitchell and keyboardist Godfrey eagerly splatter as many unhinged solos as possible across devilishly ingenious harmonic structures, singing their hearts out all the while. (Check out a video sample here.) Prefer calmer (though no less extended) sonic voyages? Lifesigns’ Live in the Netherlands should be just the ticket. Leaning on the music from 2021’s Altitude, keyboardist/composer John Young and guitarist Dave Bainbridge prove steady hands on the wheel, soothing the soul as they scale the majestic heights of “Open Skies,” “Ivory Tower” and “Last One Home”. (One other winner from outside the genre: for a 2021 COVID-time video, Bob Dylan fused his recent rummagings amongst the blues and pre-rock vocal stylings to revitalize his vintage repertoire. The unplugged sorta-soundtrack Shadow Kingdom is the winning result; order it here.)

Speaking of concerts, my prep for a recent show by British “post-Brexitcore” bashers black midi included their latest album Hellfire, which hit plenty of 2022 best-of lists in and out of the prog world. A detailed live review is forthcoming; suffice to say that on record, bm’s dense, anarchic musical interaction tracks all too well with their jaundiced first-person lyrical vignettes — it’s postmodern life as absurd, unstoppable apocalypse. A welcome bonus from that concert was meeting Mike Potter, Renaissance man of the Eastern Seaboard — astrophysicist, former recording studio owner and a whiz on keys, woodwinds and vocals too! Potter’s band Alakazam has just released their fourth disc, Carnival Dawn; it’s a heady conceptual effort that stirs equal parts Ray Bradbury and Stephen King into a bubbling stew garnished with ominous Mellotron, creepy clarinet and saxophone, and the wondrously deranged verbal musings of sundry evil clowns. By the pricking of my thumbs, it’s worth a listen — if you dare. And for a coolly energizing dose of order to chase the above chaos, you won’t do better than Sonar’s new Three Movements. Here Stephen Thelen and company harness a genuinely symphonic tension, building up towering rhythmic edifices that reach dizzying heights; at the climaxes, as guests David Torn on guitar and J. Peter Schwalm on electronics launch volley after volley of improvised ambience, the tension breaks, the clouds clear, and you might just hear the music of the spheres!

P.S.: in the aftermath of last month’s Nickel Creek concert, I’ve continued to delight in their back catalog. In addition to this year’s brilliant Celebrants, I especially recommend the final effort from their original run, 2005’s sprawingly eclectic Why Should the Fire Die?, and their tightly focused 2014 reunion, A Dotted Line. (Buy Nickel Creek CDs here.)

— Rick Krueger

In Concert: A Celebration with Nickel Creek

On By kruekuttIn americana, folk music, vernacular music1 Comment

Nickel Creek with Gaby Moreno, Frederik Meijer Gardens Amphitheater, June 8, 2023

After a warm late spring day (with atmospheric residue from Canadian forest fires actually visible under the stage lights), a capacity crowd of 1,900 was primed for ignition at my local outdoor amphitheater’s opening night. And once Guatemalan singer-songwriter Gaby Moreno had warmed us up with her beguiling vocals and deft guitar work, Nickel Creek didn’t disappoint.

Launching into “Where the Long Line Leads” from the brand-new reunion album Celebrants, fiddler/guitarist Sara Watkins shot off sassy sung verses like rockets, as mandolinist Chris Thile and guitarist Sean Watkins fueled the rhythm with their tight backing harmonies, then grabbed equal shares of the three-part choruses. And once Thile, then Sara ripped out incendiary solos, stoked by guest bassist Jeff Picker — whew! By the end of that opener, the progressive bluegrass trio had fired up Meijer Gardens but good.

It was a hot start to a hot night, even as the temperature on the amphitheater lawn went down with the sun. Mixing in about half of Celebrants with roughly equal selections from their previous four albums, Nickel Creek walked the line flawlessly between fresh and vintage, instrumental and vocal, tradition and the cutting edge. The trickily-timed bluegrass workout “Going Out . . .” slotted in effortlessly with obvious audience favorites like “Ode to a Butterfly” and “Smoothie Song”; Thile’s “The Meadow” proved another ironic kiss-off to passing romance in the ongoing vein of “Helena”, “This Side” and “Somebody More Like You”. Sara’s “Thinnest Wall”, goofily introduced as a song about “the middle of a relationship for a change,” wore its heart on its sleeve just as much as oldies “When You Come Back Down” and “Sabra Girl”; and Sean’s vocal feature “21st of May” proved weirdly sympathetic to its tale of a desperate preacher who believes that, at long last, he’s finally got the date of the Rapture right!

Continue reading “In Concert: A Celebration with Nickel Creek” →

Rick’s Quick Takes for April

On By kruekuttIn americana, art rock, Insideout Music, jazz, Kscope, progressive rock, Rock and Roll1 Comment

(As always, purchase links are included in the artist/title listing, with available online audio/video following.)

This month’s favorites:

The Zombies, Different Game. Led by singer Colin Blunstone and keyboardist Rod Argent, The Zombies notched three hit singles (“She’s Not There”, “Tell Her No” & “Time of the Season”) and a noted album of psychedelia (the misspelled, wildly adored Odessey and Oracle) back in the 1960s. This fourth effort since their late-90s reunion is my unexpected album of the month: a mesmerizing mix of the Baroque, the blues, witty lyrics worthy of the Great American Songbook and pile-driving soul. Argent’s compact yet ambitious songwriting is at a peak here: check out the elegiac, Bach-meets-John Lee Hooker title track; the doo-wop harmonies of “Rediscover”; the Motown/Steely Dan workouts of “Runaway” and “Merry-Go-Round”; the forlorn, string-laden balladry of “If You Would Be My Love” and “I Want to Fly”. And Blunstone can still stir up a furious storm with his R&B-inflected shouting or calm troubled waters with his cool serenity, frequently in the same tune! Mostly cut live in the studio, this is rock classicism at its finest; don’t miss it.

Nickel Creek, Celebrants. On their first outing in nine years, the progressive bluegrass trio riffs off an unlikely source to stunning effect. Inspired by the Beach Boys’ unfinished modular masterpiece SMiLE, mandolinist Chris Thile, violinist Sara Watkins and guitarist Sean Watkins conceived this album as a suite, with songs and instrumentals interconnected by recurring melodies and lyrics. The result flows brilliantly from beginning to end, impelled by these technically formidable, yet invitingly inventive players; the music moves like a flash from supple chamber textures (“The Meadow”) to propulsive rock (“Where the Long Line Leads”), through pensive slices of life (“To the Airport”) to hard-pickin’ instrumentals (such as the widely separated bookends “Going Out . . . Despite the Weather”). And that’s to say nothing of the trio’s thrilling, acrobatic vocal work, both solo and in harmony. Nickel Creek opens my local outdoor amphitheater this summer — and I, for one, can’t wait to hear what they do with this material!

London Brew. As with so much floating in the atmosphere of early 2020, this concept (a London concert celebrating the 50th anniversary of Miles Davis’ groundbreaking fusion album Bitches Brew) mutated along with COVID-19. Instead, we got something that’s arguably better — a dozen of the hottest young British jazzers jamming for three days in the studio, inspired by Miles’ ideas but whipping up a double-length set of free playing that’s more a seething maelstrom than a reverent tribute. Saxophonists Shabaka Hutchings (Sons of Kemet, The Comet Is Coming) and Nubya Garcia are probably most familiar to American listeners. along with drummer Tom Skinner (Sons of Kemet, Radiohead side project The Smile). Their fluidly molten lines and explosive grooves are core elements of this stormy music — but so are Nick Ramm and Nikolaj Torp Larsen’s floating keyboards, Martin Terefe and Dave Okumu’s boundary-bursting guitars, Raven Bush’s arcing violin, Theon Cross’ pumping tuba, and the volatile rhythm section of Tom Herbert and Dan See. The end result spins unpredictably between open, spacious textures and unstoppable torrents of furious sound, delivering 90 minutes of inspired, spectacularly unclassifiable music that never doubles back on itself.

This month’s jazz:

Chick Corea, Now He Sings, Now He Sobs (reissue). thanks to the no-frills Dutch reissue label Music On CD for bringing back this 1968 gem; arguably the first great album in Corea’s mind-boggling discography, it’s a near-perfect blend of lyricism and experimentation, simultaneously honoring and stretching the jazz tradition of the time. Teaming up with bassist Miroslav Vitous (later of Weather Report) and legendary drummer Roy Haynes, Corea weaves seamlessly through classic early compositions (“Matrix”, “Windows”), standards (Thelonious Monk’s “Pannonica”, “My One and Only Love”) and in-the-moment improvisations (the bulk of the original album and the additional session tracks included here). Laced with snatches of iconic Corea moments to come, this is also a solid, satisfying record in its own right.

Rickie Lee Jones, Buried Treasures. You can argue that Jones was always a jazz singer, even on her folk-inflected debut smash and her cinematic follow-up Pirates. (And hey, if Bob Dylan can sing songs made famous by Frank Sinatra . . .) Reunited with her original producer Russ Titelman and fronting a wonderfully sympathetic instrumental quartet plus horns, Jones lovingly leans into ten classic pre-rock songs, her inimitable voice gently caressing the melodies, her sparky gift for bringing the words and sentiments she sings to life blissfully intact. Hushed and intimate, but with rough edges in all the right places, Buried Treasures lives up to its title – and then some.

Rob Mazurek Exploding Star Orchestra, Lightning Dreamers. The latest from Chicago’s headily progressive jazz label International Anthem. Take trumpeter/composer Mazurek’s programmatic depictions of South American landscapes married to the free-form poetry of Damon Locks; add Gerald Cleaver and Mauricio Takara’s sturdy, hip-hop inflected percussion, Jeff Parker’s liquid post-rock guitar, and the atmospheric keys of Craig Taborn and Angelica Sanchez; then run the whole thing through a mixmaster of electronic treatments. Listen to this music with open ears, and you may come out the other side looking at the world around you with new eyes, too. A celebratory, cathartic experience.

This month’s veteran (cosmic?) rockers:

Jethro Tull, RökFlöte. After his revisionist take on the Bible on last year’s The Zealot Gene, Ian Anderson turns his gimlet eye on the old Norse gods, with 12 new songs that portray that mythology’s pantheon and flesh out present day cultural parallels — all in strict poetic meters, no less! The music is welcoming and nimble, often reminding me of classical or Celtic tunes I can’t quite place; Anderson’s flute work is wickedly sharp and his back-up band (including new guitarist Joe Parrish-James) give each tune plenty of oomph. And while Anderson can’t attack this material with the vocal gusto and range he had in Tull’s heyday, he’s learned how to cannily work with his limitations to pull the listener into each vignette. Reminiscent of the Songs from the Wood/Heavy Horses era of Tull, this will charm long-time fans while holding open possibilities for broader appeal.

Stephen Stills, Live at Berkeley 1971. The latest fuel for my ongoing Crosby Stills Nash & Young fixation. No wonder they called Stills “Captain Many Hands”; two-thirds of this archival set feature the man holding an audience of 3,500 spellbound with just his voice, guitar, piano and banjo (oh, and David Crosby chipping in harmonies on two songs). Which makes the impact of the full band finale even stronger, as a six-piece group plus the Memphis Horns power Stills’ singing to soulful heights (while sounding remarkably proggy in the 7/4 section of the epic “Cherokee”). With impressive tunes spanning a broad spectrum of roots music and superb musicianship throughout, this set offers a valuable chance to hear a now-underrated American master at his best.

The Who with Orchestra, Live at Wembley. In 2019, I attended the first concert of Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend’s foray into playing with a full-blown orchestra; recorded six months afterwards, this double set is now released in advance of The Who taking their symphonic show across Britain this summer. The bugs of that opening night had definitely been ironed out by the time they got to London; the orchestral backing on their “greatest hits plus a couple new tunes” set hits hard consistently, reaching majestic heights on the extended suite from Quadrophenia. And if Daltrey and Townshend’s voices are showing their age at long last, their gutsy commitment to the material triumphs over any moments that reveal the wear and tear. Still, the highlight of the show for me remains the duo’s acoustic duet on the evergreen “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, with Townshend supplying an introduction that pokes holes in any lingering political pretensions: “You provide the [expletive deleted] activism; we’ll provide the soundtrack.”

Box Set of the Month:

Blackfield, An Accident of Stars – 2004-2017. Customer service alerts first: the “limited one-time pressing” of this CD-based set, collecting Steven Wilson and Aviv Geffen’s first five albums under the Blackfield banner plus live audio and video is already sold out, though Amazon and indie stores like Michigan’s Dearborn Music are listing stray copies as available. Oh, and there’s a technical glitch with the included BluRay, which won’t play in American and Asian players. (Though purchasers can get a free replacement BluRay via press@snappermusic.co.uk) All that aside, Blackfield made a whole bunch of gorgeously doomy art pop in those 13 years, with Wilson and Geffen’s vocals adding salty, sour, spicy notes to their melancholy, string-laden soundscapes. While the debut Blackfield album is still my favorite, albums II and V really aren’t that far behind in quality – and there’s good stuff to be found on the lesser albums as well (all available individually through Burning Shed or Bandcamp). So if this piques your curiosity, go for selected highlights – or the complete set! (But be forewarned — KScope has announced a similarly limited box of early Pineapple Thief albums for June release, and a set of Wilson’s No-Man albums with Tim Bowness is rumored to be in the works. So start saving your shekels now . . .)

–Rick Krueger

Kruekutt’s 2022 Favorites

On By kruekuttIn afro beat, americana, art rock, avant-garde, Big Big Train, books, Cosmograf, electronic, Insideout Music, jazz, jazz rock, pop, progressive rock, Robin Armstrong, vernacular music2 Comments

A few notes before I dive in: items I’ve reviewed here are linked to the relevant Progarchy article via the artist/album title; If I didn’t review an item here or elsewhere, it’s marked with an asterisk (*) — but I hope the capsule description and listening/order links will encourage you to check it out!

My favorite new music of 2022:

  • Dave Bainbridge, To The Far Away: A thrilling, ravishingly beautiful album about love, longing, hope and a future. Lyrics of rich simplicity cradled in a lush orchestral blend of rock, prog and Celtic folk. My interview with Bainbridge is here.
  • Big Big Train, Welcome to the Planet: what turned out to be BBT’s final effort with the late David Longdon consolidates the widened horizons of Grand Tour and the intimate subjects of Common Ground, casting an epic light on the everyday glory of family, community, joy and loss.
  • Cosmograf, Heroic Materials: Elegiac in its evocation of past achievements, urgent in its contemporary call to action, breathtaking in its poised blend of fragility and strength, Robin Armstrong’s latest is a riveting listen.
  • The Flower Kings, By Royal Decree: TFK’s third double album in a row, this is the sound of Roine Stolt and company refreshed and revisiting their optimistic roots, soaring on the wings of one marvelous melody after another. As much a joy to hear as it must have been to create.
  • Mary Halvorson, Amaryllis & Belladonna: free jazz guitarist Halvorson hits a major label with two albums — teaming with a boisterously simpatico sextet on Amaryllis, then dancing atop and around modern classical textures from the Mivos Quartet on Belladonna. Audacious and engrossing, this music will open your ears real good!
  • Dave Kerzner, The Traveller: confident, appealing songwriting with hooky yet sophisticated melodies and structures, Kerzner’s best, widest ranging vocals to date and perfectly judged contributions from a stellar guest list. Letting his new songs sell themselves and keeping proceedings to the point, he both satisfies us and leaves us wanting more. 
  • The Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, Cold As Weiss: An immediately accessible reboot of a classic jazz trio format. Organist Lamarr, guitarist Jimmy James and drummer Daniel Weiss are thrilling players who never fail to make their instruments sing. Funky, catchy bite-size tracks with great individual playing and razor sharp ensemble. 
  • Marillion, An Hour Before It’s Dark: The front half of Los Marillos’ latest has more swagger than they’ve mustered in a while; the back half’s meditative downshift climaxes with the sweeping smashcut finale “Care,” as power chords and massed choirs climb heavenward. Unique as anything in their catalog, and another thoroughbred winner.
  • Pure Reason Revolution, Above Cirrus: this fifth album reveals PRR at their best, consistently upping their game to the next level. For every moment of blissful harmonies and glidepath atmospherics, there’s an equal and opposite moment of feral guitar/drum slammin’ — and when they layer the two together, look out! Well worth buckling up for the ride.
  • The Smile, A Light For Attracting Attention: A Radiohead side project worth your while. Thom Yorke overflows with apocalyptic dread; Jonny Greenwood’s off-kilter instrumental instincts are keener than ever; Tom Skinner’s skittering beats relentlessly drive the grim, lush soundscapes forward. Music for our contemporary dystopia, irresistibly sucking you in.
  • Tears For Fears, The Tipping Point: Roland Orzbaal & Curtis Smith’s catchy-as-always comeback goes for catharsis via unstoppable rhythms, unforgettable choruses and naked vulnerability on every single track, Devastatingly gorgeous, uncompromising art-pop that will haunt you long after every listen.
  • And my Top Favorite of the year — Wilco, Cruel Country. A double set that detours from Jeff Tweedy’s thoughtful dad-rock toward Nashville and Bakersfield, the tactile interplay of the band and Tweedy’s quizzical, empathetic probes of societal alienation elevate this to an album of genuine tenderness and subtlety, gathering strength and heart as it unrolls. After a digital-only release this year, it’s finally coming out on LP and CD January 20!

My favorite reissues of 2022:

  • The Beatles, Revolver Special Edition*: No Revolver, no Sergeant Pepper — no prog? Regardless of what ifs, the Fabs’ great leap forward of 1966 was brilliant in its own right, dragging pop headlong toward the avant-garde. Here it gets a subtle yet effective remix, with fascinating studio outtakes framing the cutting-edge results.
  • Tim Bowness & Giancarlo Erra, Memories of Machines: an irresistible mix of unflinchingly intimate art-rock and lowering ambient backdrops. Ten years on, original arrangements and track lengths are restored, Erra’s textural work is inched forward — and as always, Bowness breaks your heart with his ringing couplets and his stoic voice.
  • My Top Favorite Reissue of the year: Robert Fripp, Exposure/Exposures. The guitarist’s 1979 return to active duty after a post-King Crimson sabbatical, binding together a disparate set of songs and guest artists with his innovative ambient Frippertronics. Whether by itself or as part of a gargantuan box set that chronicles Fripp’s entire “Drive to 1981,” it’s a wild, worthwhile listen in and of itself, while providing distinctive previews of coming attractions.
  • Marillion, Holidays in Eden Deluxe Edition*: my introduction to the band (I first saw them live on the US tour promoting the album), Holidays was partially a product of record company pressure for hit singles, but it also has plenty of Marillion’s trademark ambition, power and lyricism. A fresh remix complemented by exciting live shows on both audio and video.
  • Soft Machine, Bundles*: Add blazing young guitarist Allan Holdsworth to one of the pioneering British jazz-rock bands, stir in quirky compositions by keyboardists Karl Jenkins and Mike Ratledge, and stand by for fireworks! This fresh reissue also includes a hot live set featuring Holdsworth’s successor John Ethridge (still active with the Softs today).
  • Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot Super Deluxe Edition*: The album that put Wilco on the map (after they were dropped by their label), YHF mutated from Americana through dream-pop to electronica-tinged folk-rock as band members and producers came and went. Eight discs that copiously chronicle the recording process, plus blistering two live sets.

My favorite (re)discoveries of 2022:

My favorite live album of 2022: Big Big Train, Summer Shall Not Fade*. Equal parts power and grace, BBT’s 2018 headlining gig at Germany’s Night of the Prog may be their best live release yet. Playing to their largest crowd ever, David Longdon commands the stage; Greg Spawton and Nick D’Virgilio provide a muscular foundation; Dave Gregory, Rikard Sjobom, Danny Manners and Rachel Hall serve up one delightful moment after another. Bryan Morey’s review nails it; this is indispensable.

My favorite rock documentary of 2022: In The Court of the Crimson King: King Crimson at 50*. The most unconventional band of the last five decades gets the most unconventional documentary possible. Crims past and present weigh in on “living, dying, laughing, playing and rocking out”, with Robert Fripp providing the ever-present focal point in a particularly puckish fashion. There’s also a deluxe edition with live Crimson video (both in the studio and at 2019’s Rock in Rio festival) and four bonus CDs of soundtrack cuts, rarities, etc.

My favorite books about music of 2022:

  • Vashti Bunyan, Wayward: Just Another Life to Live. Singer-songwriter Bunyan’s unlikely late-60s odyssey from Swinging London to the Hebrides forms the heart of this evocative narrative. Laboriously traversing the heart of England, she gains understanding of the natural world, of human kindness and cruelty — and of her own sturdy inner core.
  • Dan Charnas (with musical analysis by Jeff Peretz), Dilla Time: The Life And Afterlife Of J Dilla, The Hip-Hop Producer Who Reinvented Rhythm*. In Charnas’ telling, Dilla emerges as an innovator who laid down new paths for neo-soul and conceptual hip-hop, via his subtle yet unsettling variations on previously straight-up rhythms. Peretz’s equally innovative graphic depictions of rhythmic innovations across the decades buttress the page-turning narrative.
  • Robert Fripp, The Guitar Circle*. More a philosophical tome than a how-to book, though still remarkably practical, Fripp’s highly conceptual explanation of his process (as unfolded in Guitar Craft courses and Guitar Circles) won’t be for everyone. But those who dig in will grasp where this eternally questing musician is coming from better than ever before.
  • David Leaf, God Only Knows: The Story of Brian Wilson, The Beach Boys And The California Myth*. The third edition of Leaf’s lifework chronicles The Beach Boys’ journey from surf-rock through eccentric art-pop to the dead end of nostalgia, then sidesteps to Wilson’s solo comeback, culminating in the completion of his masterwork Smile. Not in the least objective, but comprehensive, even-handed toward the rest of The Beach Boys, and heartfelt.
  • Grant Moon, Big Big Train – Between The Lines: The Story Of A Rock Band. How BBT became a prog powerhouse — through sheer bloody-mindedness, growth in craft and a keen ear for musical contributors — is the tale told in this richly detailed bio/coffee table tome. Both a celebration of the music made and an unflinching look at the price paid for a dream.

And in closing . . .

If you’re interested, check out these recordings I played or sang on that were released in 2022:

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes for September

On By kruekuttIn Ambient, americana, art rock, Big Big Train, Cosmograf, Insideout Music, progressive metal, progressive rock, Robin Armstrong1 Comment

Another month of thoroughly enjoyable releases across the progressive spectrum from quiet to loud, from controlled to anarchic — often all in the same album! As always, order links are included in the artist/album title listing, and streaming audio or samples follow the review.

Cosmograf, Heroic Materials: Robin Armstrong’s latest concept album speaks softly and hits home hard. As a World War II fighter pilot recalls the challenge he rose to as a young man and laments the passing of his golden era, he also sounds the alarm about the challenges the generations who’ve followed have inherited. Throughout, Armstrong’s lyrics are simply stated yet deeply affecting, sung with real gravity and soul. And as the music patiently unreels, it becomes impossible to pick out a standout track; each brooding acoustic interlude, each stinging electric solo, each cinematic ebb and flow leaves its indelible mark. Elegiac in its evocation of past glories, urgent in its call to action today, breathtaking in its poised blend of fragility and strength, Heroic Materials is a riveting listen and a thing of beauty, already on my list of favorites for this year.

Dim Gray, Firmament: a Norwegian band that’s getting a broader push courtesy of Kingmaker Management, with an opening slot on Big Big Train’s recent tour (to say nothing of Oskar Holldorf’s filling BBT’s keyboards/backing vocals slot live) and their second effort released through the English Electric label. Kingmaker knows how to pick ’em; Holldorff, guitarist Hakon Høiberg and drummer Tom Ian Klungland whip up a mighty noise on Firmament’s 12 succinct tracks, with Holldorff and Høiberg’s ethereal, evocative singing launched above one swirling, quasi-orchestral crescendo after another. From opener “Mare” to finale “Meridian”, middle-aged farts like me might hear echoes of Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, Brian Wilson’s pocket symphonies and Avalon-era Roxy Music, while younger listeners may catch hints of Fleet Foxes’ seamless, potent vocalises and Sigur Ros’ relentless ensemble builds. Whatever Dim Gray’s influences, the trio’s pin-sharp ensemble and pacing, thrilling sense of dynamics and undeniable gift for melody make for an arresting sound, with impressionistic lyrics that complement the sweep and yearning of the music. Here’s an album that not only dreams big, but actually delivers.

Steve Hackett, Genesis Revisited Live – Seconds Out & More: by my count, this is Hackett’s sixth live set since the Genesis Revisited concept revived his worldwide touring mojo a decade ago, beating out even Rush’s late career live output. Too much of a good thing? Arguably — but on the other hand, both Bryan Morey and I raved about this tour when it hit the Midwest this past spring, so I can also argue that more is better! With Amanda Lehmann complementing his usual merry men on second guitar, Hackett and band rip through a set of solo classics (and I wholeheartedly include Surrender of Silence tracks “Held In the Shadows” and “The Devil’s Cathedral” in that description) that climax with Lehmann’s floating vocals and Craig Blundell’s jaw-dropping drum workout on the vintage “Shadow Of The Hierophant”. Then it’s nirvana for Hackett-era Genesis fans, with the entirety of their 1977 live masterwork reprised (and sometimes gently, sometimes deliriously reimagined) in one go. Gorgeous sound whatever the format, and nicely hi-def visuals on the BluRay; it all does what it says on the cover, with Hackett’s usual flair and panache. See you next year for the Foxtrot At Fifty set?

King’s X, Three Sides of One: “Calling all saviors/And I’m shouting at God/Oh won’t you come and save us/Don’t you think we need you now/So let it rain, to wash the fear away.” dUg pinnick’s vocal testifies while his bass thunders, Ty Tabor’s guitars chime and howl like lightning, Jerry Gaskill’s drums crack open the earth and sky. And the apocalyptic “Let It Rain” is only the start for a trio that’s lost none of its power. King’s X’s first album in fourteen years, Three Sides of One’s rock is thick, gnarly, punchy and unbelievably tough no matter the tempo or texture, always locked into a sweet groove that carries you along. With Pinnick’s gospel-rooted shouts complemented by Tabor and Gaskill’s spindly, psychedelic harmonies, the band prowls the waterfront of life today, calling out the hucksters of “Festival” and the digital overlords of “Swipe Up”, commiserating with “all the lonely people” of “Give It Up” and “Holidays”. Stir in the drained cynicism of “Flood Pt. 1” and the dystopian parable “All God’s Children” and you have a compelling vision of societal despair. Human love (“Take the Time”, “She Called Me Home”) offers respite, but there’s no closure in sight; as pinnick preaches on the final track, “The whole world is crying for love/Every everywhere.” Lighting candles and cursing the darkness with alternate breaths, King’s X rocks on regardless — and I consider that heartening in and of itself.

Continue reading “Rick’s Quick Takes for September” →