Tag: Billy Strings

Rick’s Quick Takes at Summer’s End

On By kruekuttIn americana, art rock, Insideout Music, jazz rock, Kscope, Progressive rockLeave a comment

With Labor Day behind us, it’s time to wrap up releases from this summer (plus one from last year). Listening/purchase links are included in the album and/or at the end of each review.

The Anchoress, As We Once Were: Another strong, affecting song cycle from Catherine Anne Davies, deepening the vein mined on 2021’s marvelous The Art of Losing. Spoken word collages unite four generations of her family from grandmother to daughter and stitch together a wildly varied set of tunes: the thrashy glam of “Throw Over Your Man” and “Damsels”, the vintage melodic pop of the title track and an extended suite anchored in Davies’ atmospheric work with Pete Townshend’s vintage synthesizers build to an ominous confrontation with the past (“What You Did”), a big-beat spaghetti-western climax (“All Fall Down”) and the fluid release of “Hard to the Tide”. This is a first-rate concept album; the callbacks to Hounds of Love and Little Earthquakes show Davies making a generation of art-rock history her own and becoming a more confident, individual auteur in the process. (Order from Burning Shed.)

Brand X, Theory of Nothing: Reclaiming a musical heritage from multiple generations of rip-off moneymen, bassist Percy Jones is the driving force behind this live bootleg in every sense of the word. British jazz-rockers like these guys always brought their own unique bent to fusion, amply demonstrated on this 1977 Chicago date; drummer Kenwood Dennard and percussionist Morris Pert push hard, while guitarist John Goodsall, Jones and keyboardist Robin Lumley riff, ramble and wail on heads and vamps that mesh Weather Report’s laid-back hookiness (“Disco Suicide”, “Earth Dance”) with Genesis-style pomp (“Deadly Nightshade”,”Nuclear Burn”). Kudos to Leonardo “Moon June” Pavkovic for helping Jones – as well as Goodsall and Lumley’s heirs – reclaim the Brand X name – and receive what’s rightfully theirs on this release! (Not on streaming services, but listen to digital excerpts here.)

Gentle Giant, In a Glass House: 1973’s transitional album from the Giant, recorded in the wake of saxophonist Phil Shulman’s departure. All the trademarks are in place, though; few other bands then or now would have the stones to stick pipe organ and vibraphone in the same song- not to mention violin cameos and a recorder ensemble elsewhere! There are lightning-fast riffs from Gary Green’s guitar, counterpoint from Kerry Minnear’s keyboards and sharp sectional contrasts aplenty here, consistently anchored by Derek Shulman’s wailing soul vocals and nimbly navigated by Ray Shulman and John Weathers in the engine room. Newly remixed from AI-derived stems, In a Glass House has been missing in action for a while; remastered at a low level so you can turn it up good and loud, it’s a must for Gentle Giant completists and worth a listen by the intrigued. (Order from Burning Shed.)

Hackett & Rothery, The Roaring Waves: Eight years in the making, a genuinely satisfying collaboration of two guitar greats that guitar great together. Sure, Genesis’ Steve Hackett was a major influence on Marillion’s Steve Rothery from the word go, but neither’s ever stopped developing over the decades, and each has perfected their own sound and style – all brought to bear on this strong set of instrumental duets. The crunchy stomp of “The Storm” displays how well Hackett and Rothery complement each other; “Sandsend” shows off their differences in tasty duet fashion; the Celtic-tinged “Red Dragon” catches them interlacing mid-tempo magic in tandem. Then there’s the multi-sectioned, ever-evolving title track and the closer “Pacific Coast Highway”, where Steve H. wails on harmonica while Steve R. plays the blues. At first unassuming in its impressionistic vibe and long-form compositions, this one’ll grow on you. (Order from The Band Wagon USA.)

h (Steve Hogarth), Ice Cream Genius (Deluxe Edition): This is Hogarth’s only solo album, recorded in the mid-90s, after Marillion’s commercial collapse but before they found their indie-prog mojo. Backed by a killer core band (XTC’s Dave Gregory on guitar! Porcupine Tree’s Richard Barbieri on synths! Blondie’s Clem Burke on drums!), the singing Steve H. launches wispy reveries on “The Evening Shadows” and “Better Dreams”, digs into a subtly seductive blend of love and anxiety on “Really Like” and “Cage”, and rocks out on single “You Dinosaur Thing” and Stones steal “Until You Fall”. While Ice Cream Genius landed with a muffled splat even among Marillion fans, it laid a solid foundation for h’s ongoing occasional live shows, and turns out to be a fine listen in its own right. Arguably, the BluRay bonus material looks like overkill at first – 2 1/2 hours of demos? 6-plus hours of live material? – but the snatches of Marillion epics yet to come in the former and the vast range of covers in the latter (Beatles together and solo, Pretenders, Gabriel, Bowie, pre-Rumors Fleetwood Mac) wind up sealing the deal on this rather cool reissue. (Order from Racket Records.)

Mastodon, Marrow Deep: Will tragedy ever let up on Mastodon? In the wake of guitarist/singer Brent Hinds’ recent demise, you’ve gotta give Brann Dallor, Bill Kelliher and Troy Sanders crediting for regrouping, with new guitarist Nick Johnston and keyboardist Joao Nogueira bringing fire, precision and WOARRGGGHHH to the new lineup. At first listen, it does seem like the guys are trying to outrun the past here. The multitempo lurches and dead stop of “Barbarian’s Blood”, the dirty swing of “Poisonous Weapons”, the spectacular riffs of “Out Like A Lamb” blaze by; even a galloping elegy for Hinds, “Your Ghost Again”, is there and gone before you know it. But the second half of Marrow Deep pauses for breath with “In the Ruins” and “Moth and Bone”, melds nuance and shred on “Golden Spires”, then strikes the motherlode with “The Vanishing” (featuring super-sludge guest bass from Black Sabbath’s Geezer Butler) and crazedly eclectic finale “The Three Fates” (lush harmonies, a melodramatic breakdown and a jazzy playout!). Not quite up to the high mark set by 2021’s Hushed and Grim, but Mastodon still rocks like a double-trailer truck full of bricks, nailing every proggy hairpin turn even through tears. (Order from the band’s webstore,)

The Pineapple Thief, Retracing Our Steps (2007-2014): With the Thief on the verge of a new album with a new label (Far and Wide, out next month from InsideOut), I figured it was time to crack the last of my 2025 box sets – and I’m glad I did! This one covers TPT’s middle period on 7 CDs and a BluRay, moving from their final indie release through their initial work with post-prog label KScope, from the sprawling extended title tracks of What We Have Sown and Tightly Unwound through the Floydian atmospherics on Someone Here Is Missing to the tightly constructed, lushly orchestrated tunes of All the Wars and Magnolia. From album to album, Bruce Soord further assimilates and transcends his musical influences, zooms in tighter on matters of the heart and spirit, and sharpens his lyrical observations and badass guitar riffs to diamond-keen points. It’s thrilling to take the journey with him, Jon Sykes and Steve Kitch again; Retracing Our Steps leaves them on the verge of connecting with drummer-to-the-prog-gods Gavin Harrison and, with Your Wilderness and the albums that followed, vaulting to the next level. (Still available to order from Burning Shed.

Billy Strings, So Much for Goodbyes: Live, Ionia Michigan’s finest bluegrass singer/songwriter/guitarist is one extroverted guy, but in the studio, his mileage typically varies. Recorded shortly after the unexpected passing of Strings’ mother, So Much for Goodbyes leans into introspection with moving results: “Carry Us Home”and “Lay Me Down” lament without being lachrymose, “Burn the Other End” and “10,000 Miles from a Friend” protest loss and solitude without caving to despair. There’s gorgeous gospel harmonizing on “Light the Way” and “Wrestling an Angel”, Billy’s backing band whip up good times on “Bluewater Breakdown” and “I Like Train Songs” and Americana producer extraordinaire T-Bone Burnett supplies crystal clear sound plus guest shots from the cream of Nashville’s progressive scene. But the deepest moments here come straight from Strings’ gut in solo tune “I Still Crash” and closing instrumental “Debra’s Waltz”. Light on flash, strong on substantial writing, playing and singing, this may be the perfect introduction to Billy Strings, no matter your listening preference. (Order from Billy’s webstore.)

— 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: Come On, Feel the Noise!

On By kruekuttIn Ambient, americana, avant-garde, country, electronic, Industrial, jazz rock, krautrock, post-rock, psychedelic rock, vernacular musicLeave a comment

This time around, a cross-section of mostly new, mostly instrumental albums that may start in one genre but willfully refuse to stay there — with frequently bracing results. Purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listings, with any additional purchase links for physical media at the end of a review and streaming access following.

Bass Communion, The Itself of Itself: We can’t say Steven Wilson doesn’t warn us on the album sleeve: “audio artefacts and noise such as tape hiss, wow and flutter, vinyl crackle, distortion and earth hum are (probably) deliberate.” Delving into his longstanding experimental/electronic doom-drone persona, Wilson once again abandons melody and rhythm to slap down raw sonic textures and grind them together across extended time spans. The results range from arresting (the relentless build of horror-soundtrack opener “Unperson”, the uneasy, alarming stasis of the title piece) to utterly forgettable (when my dehumidifier kicked in during “Study for Tape Hiss and Other Artefacts”, I really thought it was part of the track). Am I finally sussing out (as some have theorized) Wilson’s extended con of the prog world? Getting a sneak peek of his 2025 solo album The Overview? Or hearing the latest from an artist who just does whatever he wants and doesn’t particularly care how possessive fans get about him? I’m a diehard Wilson fan, but when it comes to Bass Communion, your guess as to his motivation is probably as good as mine. (Order the CD from Burning Shed here.)

Can, Live in Aston 1977: Krautrock’s most thoroughly improvisational outfit got thoroughly funky in the late ’70s, courtesy of Rosko Gee, Jamaican bassist of no mean ability. With Gee powering the beat and previous bassist Holger Czukay dialing up snippets from shortwave radio and tape libraries, this version of Can is rhythmically tighter and tonally looser at the same time. That means Michael Karoli has more room to howl on guitar, Irmin Schmidt can conjure thicker clouds and launch edgier thunderbolts from his keyboards, and drummer Jaki Liebezeit can drill down into his unstoppable, drily metronomic groove. The clangorous solo section of “Drei” (enticing in its ambiguity – who’s playing this crazy thing that sounds like a bell choir in hyperdrive?) and the insistent, stonking, organ-led groove of “Vier” are high points. A solid addition to this fine archival series of vintage concerts.

The Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus, The Dream We Carry: RAIJ’s 2020 effort Songs of Yearning was my Top Favorite album of that strange year; I called it “a sacramental transmission from, then to, the heart of creation.” The Liverpool “experimental arthouse collective” has reduced its core personnel and pared back its weirdness ever so slightly, but their inviting mélange of reflection and insistence, sacred and profane persist. Jesse Main’s vocals and Eliza Carew’s cello gracefully arc over Paul Boyce and Leslie Hampson’s lush instrumental backing; on multi-track suites like “Les Fils des Etoiles” through “Object of Desire”, fragments of multilingual poems, songs and spoken word rise from nowhere, become incarnate, declare their tidings, then disappear into a wistful bed of chamber and orchestral tone color. Like RAIJ’s entire catalog, The Dream We Carry testifies to mystery tucked within the mundane, exemplified by album ender “The Song of Wandering Aengus”; it’s an eloquent yet elusive invitation to encounter the Spirit active at the heart of the fields we know.

Rich Ruth, Water Still Flows: Reviewing 2022’s I Survived, It’s Over, my thumbnail sketch of Nashville guitarist Rich Ruth pointed to him as RAIJ’s American counterpart — but on the evidence of his latest, that assessment sells him short. For Water Still Flows, Ruth adds massive slabs of dark metal riffage to his already potent mix of cosmic ambience, celebratory spiritual jazz, and slow-crawling post-rock. Opener “Action at a Distance” feels like a heftier “Won’t Get Fooled Again”; marauding power chords choke off the luxuriant strings of “God Won’t Speak”; the blissful comedown of “Somewhere in Time” sticks a soft landing after the devastating climax of “Aspiring to the Sky”. With an eclectic ensemble of sax, harp, and pedal steel plus Ruth’s frenetic axework anchored by Reuben Gingrich’s crashing drums, this album is a mighty, impeccably shaped tone poem that once again journeys through pain and catastrophe to refreshment and renewal. (Order the LP or CD from Third Man Records here.)

Soft Machine, H​ø​vikodden 1971: The seminal British jazz-rock band at its creative peak, recorded over two nights at a Norwegian arts center. At each show, Mike Ratledge’s inimitable fuzz organ takes command; multi-saxist Elton Dean lets loose with an unending stream of raucous Coltrane licks; Hugh Hopper’s bass swarms, clambers and climbs, refusing to stay on the low end; Robert Wyatt’s limber drumming seethes, weaving through the tonal murk at will. Sometimes locking together in breathtaking unison, sometimes scattering to widely separated corners, the Softs approach classic material like “Facelift”, “Fletcher’s Blend” and “Out-Bloody-Rageous” from vastly different perspectives at different shows; the first night is a anarchic fireworks display, gobsmacking in its sweep, while the second night channels the quartet’s energy into a thrilling, thrusting sense of unified drive (albeit with laid back interludes). There’s tons of live Soft Machine available, but this newly released box set is a genuine high point of their already formidable discography.

Billy Strings, Live Vol. 1: I’ve gotta admit, I’m late to the party here; before a recent sojourn in Nashville and a resulting reacquaintance with all things Americana, I had missed out on the mightiest musician to hail from Michigan in a long, long time. Strings is, without a doubt, the real deal: a virtuoso guitarist, a first-rate singer and a songwriter who’s already shown signs of true, durable greatness. On his first live release, he and his band turn gritty evocations of small-town vice (“Dust in a Baggie,” “Turmoil and Tinfoil”) and poetic contemplations of the bigger picture (“Long Forgotten Dream”, “Fire Line/Reuben’s Train”) into unabashed, dynamic bluegrass brilliance, stirring in proggy interplay and psychedelic seasoning, stretching out their jams for maximum tension and impact, but with nary a wasted note or a thoughtless lick. This is an absolutely smashing major label debut, a snapshot of a phenomenon in perpetual motion, the music grounded in Strings’ heart as well as his fearsome chops, and already on my Favorites list for this year. (Strings’ next studio album, Highway Prayers, has just been announced for a September 27 release.)

Mark Wingfield, The Gathering: Nightmarish complications severely curtailed MoonJune Records’ ability to sell this beauty on CD — which is a shame, because it may be British fusionist Wingfield’s most accomplished and focused effort to date. Languorous, enticing compositions like “Apparition in the Vaults”, “A Fleeting Glance” and “Cinnamon Bird” consistently take flight here: Wingfield’s guitar traces ecstatic melodic parabolas and sparse changes; Gary Husband colors the soundscape with juicy pads, inspired atmospheres and choice accents on piano and synth; Asaf Sirkis lays down a spacious, unshakeable polyrhythmic grid to propel things forward. What makes this even more of a killer session is the overdubbed bass contributions of King Crimson’s Tony Levin (focusing on active, rich-toned counterpoint) and Brand X’s Percy Jones (bubbling under with his unique tone and angular comping). It’s daring and delightful from start to finish, as an all-star lineup of truly great players work with total concentration and dedication, and make this sophisticated yet accessible music their own.

— Rick Krueger