Category: Rock and Roll

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

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

In Concert: Bruce Springsteen Proves It All Night

On By kruekuttIn Rock and RollLeave a comment

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, Wrigley Field, Chicago, Illionis, August 9, 2023.

If it’s not official, it should be: since James Brown passed on, Bruce Springsteen live has to be The Hardest Working Man In Show Business.

Kicking off the second North American leg of his current world tour, Springsteen was in nonstop motion for three solid hours: counting in 26 tunes at the head of a supersized, 18-strong E Street Band — playing off wingman guitarists Stevie Van Zandt and Nils Lofgren, cueing “Mighty Max” Weinberg’s drum shots with his body, “conducting” the five-piece horn section (including featured saxman Jake Clemons), often to intentionally comic effect. And, oh yeah, he sang every lead vocal, took his share of guitar and harmonica breaks and rambled up and down multiple steps and ramps to engage the folks standing in front of the center field stage again and again. Whew!

But it isn’t just the 73-year-old Springsteen’s stamina that’s impressive; the body of work he brings onstage stacks up favorably against any classic rocker in his league. While some hardcore fans have complained of static setlists this go-round, the range and depth of what is being played would be pretty hard to beat. Almost half of second album The Wild, The Innocent And The E Street Shuffle — tunes that Bruce himself called “the soul children of the lengthly prog pieces” he’d written for a previous band; most of operatic breakout Born to Run; core songs from noir melodrama Darkness on the Edge of Town, mass culture beachhead Born in the USA and 2020’s elegiac Letter To You; and a choice cross-section from the rest of his catalog, including last year’s cover of the Commodores’ “Nightshift” (which spotlit his quartet of backing vocalists and percussionist Anthony Almonte). The 40,000-plus in attendance ate all of it up — cheering and “Brooooooce”-ing at will, dancing on the field and in the stands, singing along with everything from the monster hits to the funky Stones-alike deep track “Darlington County”. Even taking the first verse vocal of “Thunder Road” away from Springsteen while he stood there and smiled!

So there’s an alchemy at work at a Springsteen show; the fans’ determination to have a good time strikes sparks with the E Streeters’ ability to navigate endless twists and turns, stretch middle eights beyond their breaking point for maximum tension, build repeating riffs to towering heights and pile up enough false endings to make “Free Bird” seem like a punk-rock single. Presiding over it all, Bruce bounces between driven storyteller — eyes shut tight, straining as he belts out the lyrics with rough and ready voice — and genial MC — gazing out at the faithful in delight at what he’s stirred up, then turning back to his band to stoke up the fires one. More. Time!

And beyond that release, that feeling of freedom is the place where Springsteen can strike his deepest emotional vein; at the halfway point and the very end of the set, Bruce brought the volume down to address the heart of his subject matter, via solo acoustic takes on two songs that anchor Letter to You. Introducing “Last Man Standing”, dedicated to late bandmate George Theiss, he sharpened his message to a keen point: “Death’s final gift to the living is an expanded awareness of the possibilities of right now.” And after the final rave-up “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out” incorporated video tributes to late E Streeters Danny Frederici and Clarence Clemons, “I’ll See You in My Dreams” looked ahead to what awaits us all, reveling in the memories made by those who have gone, yearning for a life beyond the grave.

It’s a paradox Springsteen has explored before, especially on his post-9/11 album The Rising. Both the title track and “Mary’s Place” were in the setlist at this show:

Meet me at Mary’s place, we’re gonna have a party
Tell me how do you live broken-hearted

“Mary’s Place”

Sometimes the best solution to the world’s pain and grief might just be a party, a timely reminder that life and love themselves are gifts. Here’s hoping the folks at Wrigley Field and on the rest of Bruce’s upcoming tour take that home truth along with them, long after their ecstatic night with Springsteen and the E Street Band has faded.

— Rick Krueger

Setlist:

  • No Surrender
  • Ghosts
  • Prove It All Night
  • Letter to You
  • The Promised Land
  • Out in the Street
  • Darlington County
  • Kitty’s Back
  • Nightshift
  • The E Street Shuffle
  • Mary’s Place
  • Johnny 99
  • Last Man Standing
  • Backstreets
  • Because the Night
  • She’s the One
  • Wrecking Ball
  • The Rising
  • Badlands
  • Thunder Road
  • Born to Run
  • Rosalita
  • Glory Days
  • Dancing in the Dark
  • Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
  • I’ll See You in My Dreams