Category: Rock and Roll

Rick’s Quick Takes: Summer’s Not Over . . .

On By kruekuttIn americana, Progressive rock, Rock and RollLeave a comment

. . . not by a long shot! July can be a dead zone for quality music, but that hasn’t been the case this year. If your taste leans toward prog (vintage or brand-new), rootsy rock or full-on funk with a skosh of country, you’re in luck this month. Listening links are embedded in the artist/title listing; purchase info follows the review where necessary.

The Bardic Depths, Some Things Are Worth Remembering: On the basis of an advance listen, I can confidently say that The Depths’ final album reaches new heights of invention and inspiration. There’s plenty of variety and energy within and between the tracks (some featuring shared musical material), an enticing mix of styles and colors united by a symphonic throughline that unfolds with natural ease. I especially dig moments such as “Fallen Leaves” and “October Sun” where the band’s instrumentation and texture nod to forbears like Genesis or Big Big Train, but also sound fresh and unique in the moment. Gareth Cole on guitars and Peter Jones on keyboards, sax and vocals have done some of their best work ever here, especially in proggier, jazzier moments; Tim Gehrt’s drum grooves are consistently solid and tight, and Dave Bandanna’s multi-talented playing and unique vocal tone pull everything together with real panache; this is an ensemble completely at ease, tuned in to each other all the way through. And as always, founding Progarchist Brad Birzer’s lyrics make their mark, poetic prose gathering strength with each repetition, sensitively and powerfully set. The finale “Rewind” stands out, juxtaposing poignant nostalgic reminiscence with a daringly different ambient coda, but every track makes its own special impression. Straight up: Some Things Are Worth Remembering is The Bardic Depths’ best album, and a 2026 Favorite for sure. Watch for The Progarchy Interview with the band coming soon! (Preorder physical media from The Band Wagon USA; order digital downloads from TBD’s Bandcamp page beginning August 7th.)

Death Cab for Cutie, I Built You a Tower: Back on an independent label after two decades in the multinational corporate world, DCfC hearkens back to the spacious musical drive and laser-like lyrical focus of their indie farewell, 2003’s Transatlanticism. But while that classic effort bemoaned the obstacles to connection, its post-rock riffs hypnotically vaunting skyward, I Built You a Tower is a compact, desperately literary song-cycle tracing love’s end, perfectly paired with melodic, hooky emo honed to a sharp, glittering point. As Ben Gibbard peels away layer after layer of his midlife crisis one figure of speech at a time, the band storms through buzzsaw guitar trip “Punching the Flowers”, goes Postal Service on the electronic “Stone Over Water” and “Trap Door”, gallops across the off-kilter landscape of “How Heavenly a State”, and bookends the whole thing with alternately chiming and raging versions of the title track. This one puts the listener through the mill emotionally; still, the catharsis at its end justifies the harrowing journey. Another new instant Favorite! (Order physical media from Death Cab’s online store.)

Marillion.com Deluxe Edition 2026: After tentative plunges into Marillion in the 80s and early 90s, this marked my first deep dive into hardcore fandom (though it took a couple more laps around the pool for said fandom to stick). After reading a positive review of marillion.com in my first-ever issue of MOJO Magazine, what did I see on the listening wall of my local Barnes and Noble back in 1999 (possibly a tribute to their cult hero status in Grand Rapids) but this? As with the previous year’s Radiation, Marillion packed their inimitable sound into tighter song forms here: “Rich” and “Deserve” have Steve Hogarth sneaking remarkably deep ethical concepts into snappy uptempo tunes; “Go” and “Enlightened” mount devastating band exercises in tension and release; the forlorn yet jangly “Tumble Down the Years” crammed the entirety of Abbey Road into one heart-melting song. And for those lamenting the move away from longer smash-cut epics, there was the extended rumination “Interior Lulu”, complete with random synth wig-out! While the path to Marillion controlling their own destiny began here, .com is much more than a stepping stone, formidably appealing in both its craft and its creativity. Both deluxe editions include the remixed main album and audio of a complete London show; the CD/BluRay version adds the concert documentary Shot in the Dark and two hours of jams, rough drafts and early mixes. (Order from Racket Records.)

The Rolling Stones, Foreign Tongues: After knocking off the creative rust with 2023’s Hackney Diamonds, the Stones genuinely sound like they’re having fun with – well, with being the Stones. Foreign Tongues is a throwback to the casually hedonistic days of Some Girls and Tattoo You: at long last, Keef and Ronnie are back in sync with that unmistakable guitar weave; meanwhile, Mick Jagger is as obnoxiously attractive as ever, swaggering persona intact, witty yet scabrous lyrics fully in place. The range is remarkable here: there’s grimy, technicolor Chicago blues (“Rough and Twisted”), super-charged rockers (“Mr. Charm”, “Divine Intervention”), simmering R&B ballads (“Some of Us”, “Back in Your Life”), well-chosen covers (Amy Winehouse’s “You Know I’m No Good”, Chuck Berry’s “Beautiful Delilah”) — even the late Charlie Watts driving the punky “Hit Me in the Head” at full steam. It’s all a hoot and a half, even though producer Andrew Watt buffs up nearly every chorus with lip-gloss backing vocals, the political commentary of “Ringing Hollow” comes off a bit lame, and the whole thing goes on slightly too long. If you want the urgency of Beggars Banquet to Exile on Main Street Stones, you’re out of luck; but if you’re in the mood for Boomer demigods strutting their stuff with glee and flair that defies their longevity, this might be just your ticket. (C’mon, you can buy this everywhere.)

The War and Treaty, The Story of Michael & Tanya: Michigan-rooted Americana/soul husband-wife team Michael and Tanya Trotter have pulled all of their omnivorous, fiery talent together for their latest and best. The Story is a down to earth concept album about the arc of the Trotters’ relationship, with the duo striking sparks every time their voices trade off or harmonize, all the while covering an astonishing spectrum of down-home music and piling on high-drama bells and whistles. Given the album’s Nashville pedigree and major-label status, inevitable guest shots from Hollywood & Nashville are dropped in willy-nilly (Whoopi Goldberg? Wynonna?), but deeper delights await beneath the rhinestones; from the rich, passionate soul of “Don’t Say Goodbye” to the authentically weepy country of “Lay This Bottle Down” to the hot redemptive gospel of “Holy Ghost Fire” and “High Heels”, this one’s got it all, recorded live to tape for extra oomph. If you haven’t heard these two light it up with their vocal fireworks before, this is the perfect intro. (Buy from the Warner Music webstore.)

Jack White, Frozen Charlotte: White’s new one has a grungier, more claustrophobic vibe than 2024’s wide-open, Zeptastic No Name; although, like that surprise Favorite, it also has more devastating guitar riffs per minute than most bands of his vintage manage in their entire career. (And just the right amount of killer fuzzed-up organ, too.) “Derecho Demonico”, “You’ll Never Fix Me” “Thick as Thieves” and “She’s in a Frenzy” are the standout tracks, but every song gets right to the point, makes it, and downs tools with no fuss, White wailing like a hellhound is genuinely on his trail all the while.

— Rick Krueger

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” →

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: 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

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

Rick’s Quick Takes for June

On By kruekuttIn Ambient, avant-garde, Cosmograf, electronic, folk rock, jazz, Progressive rock, Rock and Roll, singer-songwriterLeave a comment

It’s been an hugely enjoyable month for out-of-the-box music! Along with the alluring, elegant wallop of Nad Sylvan’s Monumentata (listen here) and the mesmeric slow burn of Jakko Jakszyk’s ruminative Son of Glen (listen here), three impressive new releases, a compilation taken from one of this year’s most-anticipated box sets, an utterly unexpected reissue — plus one from last year that got away — have crossed my desk. As usual, purchasing links are embedded in the artist/title listing, with streaming options after the review.

Cosmograf, The Orphan Epoch: Another winning set from Robin Armstrong! More thematic than conceptual this time around, The Orphan Epoch focuses on today’s younger generation and their search for a valid path, confronted by conformity and control like never before. “Division Warning” unfurls from fetching piano filigree to steamroller guitar supporting a dramatic, emotionally ripe chorus; elegance and savagery bob and weave, then fly in formation for “We Are the Young.” There’s gorgeous sax commentary from Peter Jones on the foreboding “Seraphim Reels”; big riffs, gang chanting and blustery organ workouts on “Kings and Lords”; a quiet, menacing synth pulse that, with Kyle Fenton’s skittering drums, propels the encroaching darkness of “You Didn’t See the Thief”; the loose yet inevitable build of “Empty Box.” It all coalesces along “The Road of Endless Miles,” as strong, hard power chording pushes Armstrong’s overdriven vocals to a striking crest, then ebbs away into dead silence. Impeccable, punchy, dynamic sound throughout brings out so much fine-grained detail, all in the service of Armstrong’s bleak yet beautiful, thoroughly humanistic vision. Moving and gutsy, this impressive record deserves the widest possible audience.

Louise Patricia Crane, Netherworld: Both in his recent Progarchy interview and in the liner notes for his latest, Son of Glen, Jakko M. Jakszyk has been beating the drums for this 2024 album – and he’s right to do it! Crane brings vaulting artistic ambition, assured worldbuilding and mad skills at singing, playing and production to bear on Netherworld; the result is an utterly absorbing song-cycle that pulls you in with the initial “Dance with the Devil” and refuses to let go until the last strains of “Japanese Doll” have died away. Wisps of early Genesis and Tull give “Tiny Bard” and “The Lady Peregrine’s Falcon” a folk-prog tinge, while a trace of vintage Kate Bush lingers in Crane’s resonant vocals, but the sweep of her archetypal lyrics and the variety of settings (from subtly psychedelic “The Red Room” to the overcast jazz of “Bete Noire”) dispel any hint of tired pastiche. Rather, Jakszyk joins an imposing crew of modern prog titans (hailing from King Crimson, Marillion, and points beyond), all dedicated to bringing Crane’s singular point of view to life. These classic ingredients come together in a heady, winningly original brew on an atmospheric soundstage that breathes; Nick Drake’s catalog and the rumbling calm of Talk Talk’s post-rock years are the closest parallels I can call to mind. Netherworld is a brilliant album, thoroughly deserving of your time, attention — and even love. It went on my Belated Favorites list like a shot!

Mary Halvorson, About Ghosts: More kaleidoscopic ensemble jazz from Halvorson’s Amaryllis sextet plus guests (including youthful sax giant Immanuel Wilkins). The warm, glittering sound of opener “Full of Neon” is typical here; launching a pointillistic riff, the ensemble builds through brass smears and a convoluted unison head to perfectly judged solos from trombonist Jacob Garchik and guest tenor Brian Settles. Trumpeter Adam O’Farrill, vibist Patricia Brennan and Wilkins get their licks in as well, while the rhythm section of Nick Dunston and Tomas Fujiwara kick up plenty of dust and swing like mad. And while Halvorson generally lays back as a soloist here (“Carved From”, also a spotlight moment for Wilkins, is an enjoyable exception), her pointed guitar tone laced with congenial digital wobbles consistently pokes through at just the right moments. From “Absinthian’s” uptempo tick-tock through the graceful Ellingtonia of the title track to the sleek glide of “Polyhedral” and “Endmost’s” smooth, richly chorded bossa, Halvorson and her players are always inventive and inviting, conjuring sunny textures from the knottiest material. A great way to either discover this fine composer/performer’s unique voice, or to check out her continuing growth.

Markus Reuter – featuring Fabio Trentini and Asaf Sirkis, Truce <3: Full-on instrumental rock from three undersung players who know their stuff — including the magic that can happen when the red light comes on with nothing prepared! Reuter’s touch guitar conjures up hanging sonic clouds, cycling loops, piledriving licks and rich melodic spirals; Trentini’s bass lines ground the evolving excursions with a tasty mix of repetition and variation, plus fat, enticing tone; on drums, Sirkis is endlessly, subtly inventive within rock-solid grooves. Slinky kickoff “Not Alone,” the driven, stuttering funk of “It’s Not in the Cards,” the bubbling, smoldering interplay of “Crooked” and “Guardian Shadow,” with its stinging elegiac lament that morphs into a total wig-out, are just the highlights; every improvisatory leap here is inspired. Completely whipped up from scratch like the first two entries in this stunning series, Truce<3 catches music as it’s made on the fly, irresistibly setting body, mind and heart in motion. Already on the Favorites list for this year.

The Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus, Rumours of Angels: Originally part of 2013 French boxset After the End, this set compiles two EPs from the end of RAIJ’s 20th-century run and two previously uncollected tracks. As such, you can hear the gleeful clash of opposites — floating folk melodies, chant and spoken word colliding with low drones, tribal rhythms and bruising industrial noise, all drenched in thick, wet echo — that marked the Liverpool collective’s initial, headlong assault on modernity. If tracks like “Cantata Sacra” and “Dies Irae” feel like desperate attempts to call down the Holy Spirit through sheer, strenuous force, moments in “The Parable (of the Singing Ringing Tree)” and “Suspended on a Cross” point toward the mix of ambient stillness and randomized sound collage that permeate later, more considered classics Beauty Will Save the World and Songs of Yearning (my album of 2020). For those who’ve already taken the plunge, Rumours of Angels is an unexpected gift, a vital signpost on RAIJ’s road toward their current, more meditative (yet still earthy) incarnation. If you’re new to it all, don’t let me dissuade you from trying this one out — but be sure to buckle up!

Bruce Springsteen, Lost and Found – Selections from the Lost Albums: I’d argue there are at least three facets to Springsteen’s artistic persona: the unstoppable Boss, barnstorming the globe with the E Street Band; the compulsive singer/songwriter, forever panning his psyche for creative gold; and most evident here, the obsessional auteur, agonizing time after time over the content of his next release. This sampler from Tracks II, an expansive (and exorbitantly priced) box of 7 unreleased albums, startles with the scope of Springsteen’s musical inspirations — though your mileage may vary as to how convincing the various genre exercises are. Chilled-out trip-hop Bruce (“Blind Spot”), spiritual-but-not-religious Bruce (“Faithless”) and country/rockabilly Bruce (“Repo Man”) click best for me; and even tejano Bruce (“Adelita”) and saloon crooner Bruce (“Sunday Love”) have their arresting moments. If anything, the straight-up rockers might be the weakest element here; “You Lifted Me Up” reminds me of nothing so much as a third-string praise and worship chorus. Still, it’s hard to beat Lost and Found’s value — 1/4th of the box set’s tracks for 1/20th of the price, and it certainly lets you know what you’re in for from Springsteen’s latest raid on his vaults. If you’re intrigued like I am, check out the sampler, maybe listen to the complete set online — then hope for a Black Friday price drop.

— Rick Krueger

2024 In Review: kruekutt’s Final Favorites!

On By kruekuttIn americana, art rock, Big Big Train, blues, classical, country, hard rock, jazz, Pink Floyd, Progressive rock, Rock and RollLeave a comment

No big hoo-hah this year: just a down and dirty list of my favorite releases and reissues of the year, covered in previous Quick Takes or elsewhere on the Web (links are to my original articles)!

New Releases

Reissues

(Re)Discoveries

Thanks for your ongoing attention and steadfast support. We at the Rockin’ Republic of Prog appreciate it! Best wishes as we all turn the corner and head into the New Year!

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes: 4th-Quarter ’24 Lightning Round!

On By kruekuttIn americana, folk rock, Insideout Music, jazz rock, krautrock, Kscope, Neal Morse, Progressive rock, punk rock, Rock and Roll, singer-songwriter, vernacular musicLeave a comment

Where have the last two months gone? And how many new releases have I enjoyed in the interim? Enough that I’ll be shooting to summarize each one included below in two to four sentences, max! (Though I can’t guarantee they’ll be short sentences.) Purchase/streaming links embedded as usual, so here we gooo . . .

New Music

As teased in our October interview with mainman Jem Godfrey, Frost*’s Life in the Wires (listen here) is the conceptual album of a prog fan’s fondest dreams; the storyline is vintage dystopia (1984 meets Who’s Next), the music a full-on sonic assault from the get-go (replete with widdly synthesizer solos). Pitted against the required cybernetic supervillain, in search of freedom out there in the fields, can Godfrey’s protagonist Naio escape permanent lockdown in teenage wasteland? The ultimate answer is well worth the winding journey; powered by the heady backing of John Mitchell, Nathan King and Craig Blundell, Godfrey easily conjures up the equal of previous band high points Milliontown and Falling Satellites.

On his fresh solo album Bringing It Down to the Bass, Tony Levin launches 14 low-end odysseys with (to quote the hype sticker) “too many virtuoso collaborators to list.” But whether proving that “Boston Rocks” with Bowie guitarist Earl Slick and Dream Theater drummer Mike Portnoy, “Floating in Dark Waves” below Robert Fripp’s soundscapes, or reuniting with fellow Peter Gabriel bandmembers on multiple jams, Levin always grabs the ear with his supremely melodic bass, Stick and cello work. And his low-key, half-spoken vocals prove surprisingly effective, especially on dry barbershop throwbacks “Side B/Turn It Over” and “On the Drums” and the moving John Lennon tribute “Fire Cross the Sky.”

Pioneer garage rock guitarist Wayne Kramer had one more winner in him before his passing earlier this year. Credited in tribute to Kramer’s seminal Detroit collective MC5, Heavy Lifting (listen here) rages against the political and cultural machines still standing since the band’s original heyday, agitating for a better deal with 13 brash, irresistible helpings of punk (“Barbarians at the Gate”), rock (“Edge of the Switchblade”) and soul (Edwin Starr cover “Twenty-Five Miles”). For the full skinny on why Kramer & company finally snuck into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame through the back door this year, the new MC5: A Oral Biography of Rock’s Most Revolutionary Band is essential reading.

As his long-time collaborators spin off in other directions, Neal Morse just keeps on keeping on! Teaming with The Resonance, a purpose-built quartet of young Nashville hotshots, Morse’s latest No Hill for a Climber (listen here) is a bit of a throwback; instead of full-blown rock opera, Morse builds a multi-faceted album, sandwiching creepy swinger “Thief”, head-down rocker “All the Rage” and melting ballad “Ever Interceding” between twin epics (opener “Eternity in Your Eyes” and the closing title suite). The more straight-on vibe Morse embraced on his Joseph duology predominates here, but with enough detours to keep long-time listeners coming back and intrigue new hearers.

Straight-on is a pretty good description of the new The Pineapple Thief EP Last to Run (listen here) as well; far more than leftovers from the fine It Leads to This, the five songs included here strike hard and deep. As Gavin Harrison weaves enticing rhythmic illusions on drums, Bruce Soord spins up dark, pensive vignettes of personalities in crisis (“All Because of Me”), relationships snarled by dysfunction (“No Friend of Mine”) and societies on the brink (“Election Day”). Another band that mines a familiar vein repeatedly, yet consistently leaves listeners craving more.

Speaking of dysfunction, The Smile’s Cutouts (listen here) resembles nothing so much as a numbed comedown, trailing the apocalypses unflinchingly depicted earlier this year on their Wall of Eyes. Thom Yorke’s nonsense lyrics and bleached-out vocal affect sound light-years away from the redemption Radiohead intimated even at their most jaundiced; Jonny Greenwood spins up orchestral/electronics, evoking distant, forgotten nightmares; Tom Skinner holds down the spare, spacey beat, blithely driving into nothingness. If not as gripping as this trio’s first two albums, Cutouts can still compel with its chill.

But where The Smile chills, Tears for Fears seeks warmth; the four fresh tracks on TfF’s mostly-live Songs for a Nervous Planet (listen here) home in on healing (“Say Goodbye to Mom and Dad”), lasting love (the lush “The Girl that I Call Home” and the psychedelic “Emily Says”) and self-actualization (the quirkily glib “Astronaut”). And there’s plenty more catharsis in concert, as Roland Orzbaal, Curt Smith and backing band blast out the hits of yesteryear and revisit the highlights of their fine 2022 comeback The Tipping Point, all with plenty of enthusiasm and aplomb.

(Live albums and archival releases – box set time! – follow the jump.)

Continue reading “Rick’s Quick Takes: 4th-Quarter ’24 Lightning Round!” →

Rick’s Quick Takes: Across the Great Divide

On By kruekuttIn art rock, Atmospheric rock, electronic, Industrial, Insideout Music, Kscope, Pink Floyd, pop, Progressive rock, Rock and RollLeave a comment

This month’s connecting thread: grizzled veterans connect with high-powered talent from younger generations; the chemistry fizzes, fuses and pops — and some excellent new music is the result! (Of course, there’s an outlier or two in this month’s stack as well.) Let’s get down to it, shall we? Purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listing, with album streams or samples following the review.

Jon Anderson and The Band Geeks, True: Anderson (going on 80, and as seemingly immortal as Keith Richards) has consistently worked with little-known yet impeccable virtuosos since his abrupt exit from Yes; watching him front a high-impact big band from the 10th row in 2019 was a thrilling experience. Now, teaming with a quintet of killer players half his age, he delivers the album fans have desired for decades. Sure, there are times when The Band Geeks (bassist Richie Castellano, guitarist Andy Graziano, keyboardists Christopher Clark and Robert Kipp and drummer Andy Ascolese) seem a little too eager to ape their counterparts in the classic Yes lineup, but overall they lean into epics like “Counties and Countries” or “Once Upon a Dream” and shorter romps like “True Messenger”, “Shine On” and “Still a Friend” with full commitment, fresh creativity and chops galore. Then there’s Anderson, still soaring into sub-orbit with that unmistakable voice, still preaching peace, love and understanding with his trademark New Age word salads. (Is there no way this man could run for U.S. President? At this point, he’d get my vote.) At first, I thought Time Lord’s full review was a bit over the top — but repeated hearings are bringing me around. Most hardcore Yes-heads will flip over this, and casual listeners will find plenty to lure them in.

Tim Bowness, Powder Dry: the exception to this month’s rule, Bowness’ first-ever “solo solo project” hits the speakers like a cold slap in the face. Instead of the languorous widescreen ruminations of previous albums, we get brusque, sparse song sketches (rarely more than 3 minutes); a disorienting mix of natural tones, machine rhythms, bracing industrial grit and gnarled lo-fi samples yields shocks, disturbances and wake-up calls aplenty across these 16 tracks. Well practiced in the dark arts of ineffable yearning and melancholy, here Bowness hones and refines his lyrics to bare-knuckled, highly charged haikus, whether staring down decadent cultures (opener “Rock Hudson”), devolving psyches (“This Way Now”, the title track), disintegrating connections (“Heartbreak Notes”) or the unholy conjunction of all three (“Summer Turned”, “Built to Last”). With his stoic vocals bearing the brunt of this emotional tangle, Bowness’ voice plumbs fresh depths, flickering in desperate hope one moment, driven to sublimated fury and fear the next. If you’re already a Bowness fan, stow your expectations — but whether he’s familiar or brand new to you, don’t hesitate to strap in for a compelling, cathartic ride.

David Gilmour, Luck and Strange: another prog legend who can sound like nobody but himself cranks up one more time. But the canvass Gilmour paints on here accents different tones and tints, with youthful co-producer Charlie Andrew shaking up instrumental backgrounds and song formats to good effect. There’s a sense of lightness, air and space this time around, a less obviously Floydian palette that both complements and contrasts with Gilmour’s craggy singing and singular take on blues guitar. Polly Samson’s lyrics level up as well, tackling well-worn topics (nostalgia on “Luck and Strange”, spirituality on “A Single Spark”, love as refuge on “Dark and Velvet Nights” and “Sings”) from newly contemplative angles, sounding absolutely right coming out of Gilmour’s mouth. (Oh, and daughter Romany Gilmour totally enthralls in her vocal turn on The Montgolfier Brothers’ “Between Two Points”.) By the time Gilmour hearkens back to which one’s Pink, firing off a final round of Stratocaster fireworks on orchestral closer “Scattered”, he’s taken us on the most varied – and I’d argue, most sheerly enjoyable – ride of his solo career; this one’s already a 2024 Favorite.

King Crimson, Sheltering Skies: OK, so this one isn’t “new” new. But when Crimson sherpas Robert Fripp and Bill Bruford teamed with American upstarts Adrian Belew and Tony Levin back in the 1980s, the result was a revitalized second reign for the King, swapping out trademark Mellotrons and prodigious pomp for raucous noise, limber polyrhythms and surging, seething energy. With Belew and Levin now touring this music again as BEAT, this issue of a 1982 show previously released on video couldn’t come at a better time; opening for Roxy Music on the French Riviera, Crimson pulls the unsuspecting audience right into the clinches for the hottest of hot dates. From the subdued intensity of “Matte Kudasai” and “The Sheltering Sky” through the dynamic clatter of “Indiscipline” and the hypnotic guitar weave of “Neal and Jack and Me” to Bruford and Belew’s ecstatic percussion duet that kicks off “Waiting Man”, this is that rare live album of nothing but highlights. Banter, bicker, balderdash, brouhaha, ballyhoo — whatever their desired flavor of elephant talk (including some 70s throwbacks), Crim devotees will find it here.

Nick Lowe, Indoor Safari: almost 50 years on from his solo debut at the crest of the New Wave, Lowe’s pure pop for now people remains pin-sharp and on point. Who else can still pump out breezy rockers like “Went to A Party” and “Jet Pac Boomerang” (the latter complete with high-culture similes and a Fab easter egg), ring wry changes on the battle of the sexes in “Blue on Blue” (“You’re like a mill, you run me through”) and “Don’t Be Nice to Me”, then capture the emotional devastation of the quietly crooned “A Different Kind of Blue”? Masked surf-rockers Los Straitjackets (currently celebrating their 30th anniversary) prove crucial here, laying down swinging retro grooves for Lowe’s originals and hoisting just the right backdrops as he nails the blue-collar aspiration of Garnet Mimms “A Quiet Place” and the innocent romance of Ricky Nelson’s “Raincoat in the River”. Lowe’s smart-aleck satire has always entertained, but his later embrace of pre-rock stylings deepened his songwriting and singing; now, even at his jauntiest, his aim for the heart is true. This is a real charmer that’s gone straight onto my 2024 Favorites list.

Pure Reason Revolution, Coming Up to Consciousness: a variation in reverse of this month’s theme, as long-time Pink Floyd/Gilmour bassist Guy Pratt brings extra low-end oomph to the latest from Jon Courtney, Greg Jong and their fellow electroproggers. As Time Lord ably spells out in his full review, once again PRR relies on the proven recipe of previous high points like 2006 debut The Dark Third and 2022’s Above Cirrus: float in on low-key ambience, keep the verses chilled out, ramp up on the bridge, kick hard into the chorus! (While seasoning to taste with lush harmonies, towering guitar riffs and slamming club beats, whipping up maximum tension and release before serving.) Here the results are consistently yummy, not least because the soundscapes’ ebb and flow echo Courtney’s perennial lyrical themes. As Courtney, Jong and Annicke Shireen’s voices entwine, splinter, and reunite, there’s a serene insistence on transfiguration, on something more than material, beyond the harsh realities of eros (“Dig til You Die”, “Betrayal”), fear (“The Gallows”), and death itself (“Useless Animal”, “As We Disappear”). Pure Reason Revolution isn’t giving us answers, but Coming Up to Consciousness points us toward the mystery they’ve pursued all along.

— Rick Krueger