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)!
Bruce Hornsby, The Way It Is; Scenes from the Southside; Harbor Lights; Here Come the Noisemakers (live); Intersections 1985-2005 (box set); Solo Concerts (live). See my appreciation of Bruce’s career here!
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!
Due to circumstances beyond my control — thanks to everybody who helped out! — this edition of Quick Takes is playing catch-up. This time around, purchase links are embedded in the release title, with any additional sample/streaming links labelled (LISTEN HERE).
The last few months’ progressive rock releases have skewed heavily toward reissues — for example, Keith Emerson and Greg Lake’s mid-1980s reunion with hard-rocker Cozy Powell in the drummer’s chair. Triple-cd box Emerson, Lake & Powell: The Complete Collection(LISTEN HERE) is a compact, yet worthy appendix to the ELP canon. The main album, ranging from extended throwbacks “The Score” and “The Miracle” through jazzy diversion “Step Aside” to souped-up classical gas like the single “Touch and Go” and Holst’s “Mars, the Bringer of War” is big, brash, widescreen stuff; both in the studio and on the two live discs included, Emerson’s thrusting digital synthesizer upgrades, Lake’s full-throated bravura vocals and Powell’s sleek percussive drive come on like gangbusters on new material and vintage classics such as “Pictures at an Exhibition” and “Pirates”. ELP’s mass appeal remained in the rear view mirror, but Emerson, Lake and Powell was a game try at reinvention for a different time.
Carl Palmer was playing drums for Asia during ELPowell’s flare and fade, but he’s remained engaged with his biggest band’s work, stepping up as legacy guardian after Emerson and Lake’s passing. Disc 1 of Palmer’s solo boxFanfare for the Common Man(a reissue/expansion of 2001’s Do You Wanna Play, Carl?) shows how he emerged from his bandmates’ shadows in the later 1970s, asserting himself in spellbinding trio jams, big band blowouts and a stylish, eclectic percussion concerto; disc 2 covers his roots in British R&B and psychedelia plus his later collaborations with Asia and others, while a new 3rd disc documents live work reinventing the ELP repertoire for guitar-based power trio. The accompanying BluRay video and biography are revealing, though scattered and even self-contradictory. But that’s a minor blemish: Palmer remains rightly admired and respected by musical peers and fans, and still on the road in his 70s, he retains the rhythmic fire and momentum that this set amply demonstrates.
ELP weren’t the only proggers trying to reinvent themselves after the mid-70s; on side one of 1977’s The Missing Piece(LISTEN HERE), the manic British sextet Gentle Giant made ever so coy feints at co-opting the energy of punk and New Wave (especially on the self-conscious spoof “Betcha Thought We Couldn’t Do It”). Side two was more relaxed; reaching for the soul-inflected art-pop that Genesis and Yes later rode to the top of the charts, the Shulman brothers & company still stirred in Baroque cross-rhythms (“As Old As You’re Young”), stately balladry (“Memories of Old Days”) and breakneck instrumental and vocal twists and turns (“Winning”). With Steven Wilson providing fresh stereo and spatial audio remixes, this is another delightful installment in the Giant’s ongoing series of album upgrades.
English folk-classicalists Renaissance kept plugging through the decades, with operatic lead singer Annie Haslam at the helm. 2000’s Tuscany(LISTEN HERE) was Haslam’s last go-round with key members guitarist Michael Dunford and drummer Terence Sullivan (plus limpid guest piano work from former keyboardist Jon Tout). Not as urgent as their 1970s work, it’s still a lovely, impressionistic album, gently meditating on the nexus of art (“Lady from Tuscany”, “Dear Landseer”), nature (“Pearls of Wisdom,” “Dolphin’ s Prayer”) and love (“In the Sunshine”, “One Thousand Roses”). A complete live show from Renaissance’s 2001 tour of Japan included as a bonus mixes new tunes with career standbys such as “Carpet of the Sun,” “Northern Lights” and “Mother Russia”, showing off Haslam and company’s musicality and consistency. As usual, Esoteric Recordings’ latest Renaissance reissue provides the context to better assess the work of this underrated band.
And in the wake of its new reissue, I now consider Yes’ 1994 album Talk the most unified effort of their post-prog decade. (It was also the least well-known, due to grunge taking over rock radio and Yes’ record company collapsing.) The only full-blown songwriting team-up of hippie muse Jon Anderson and guitarist/keyboardist/composer Trevor Rabin, Talk’s tunes ooze out-there ambition and hi-gloss appeal; the choral kick of “The Calling” and “Walls”, “Real Love’ jangle-pop/heavy metal synergy, the skip-hopping “State of Play” and the closing multi-part epic “Endless Dream” are stunningly remastered to devastating impact. Rhythm section Chris Squire and Alan White are at their most down and dirty; Tony Kaye leans in with expressive, gnarly organ work. And a bonus live set (from the soundboard at a 1994s tour stop) showed that this lineup could conjure a fairly close approximation of the classic sound on standbys like “Heart of the Sunrise” and “I’ve Seen All Good People”. If you loved Yes but wrote them off between 90125 and Union, I’m serious; give Talk a shot.
There have also been plenty of ear-opening new releases, mostly rooted in improvisation rather than composition. The latest posthumous set from piano legend Chick Corea has its source in a 2019 tour and follow-up sessions with eclectic banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck; the aptly-titled Remembrance(LISTEN HERE) covers an incredible range of sonic possibilities, with the duo wailing on Thelonious Monk’s “Bemsha Swing”, Scarlatti sonatas, brand new compositions and impromptus pulled from thin air. Impeccably tasty and always in the moment, Corea and Fleck spark off each other constantly, caught up in an unending sense of play and delight. Fans of either player will love this, and folks who dig acoustic jazz, bluegrass or both will find themselves smiling again and again when they hear it.
While Brad Mehldau is one of the numerous young lions who followed in Corea’s wake on piano, his sound and vision are uniquely his own, as a fresh pair of solo discs make clear. On After Bach II, Mehldau brings his love for the classical piano tradition and his improvisational chops to bear on a second set of J.S. Bach’s richly poised keyboard works, mingling preludes and fugues played straight with jazzier extrapolations (“Between Bach”) and superimposed twists of rhythm and counterpoint based on one of Bach’s pinnacles, the Goldberg Variations. Apres Fauré brings a similar freedom to the music of Gabriel Fauré, the French composer who became a unique bridge between the late Romantic and Impressionist schools; Mehldau responds to Fauré’s sense of adventure with sweeping repetitious bass lines, long-spun singing melodies, and thick two-handed harmonies. Plenty of rigorous development to chew on, plenty of knotty invention and lush sound to bask in on both of these!
On their new EP Tropic of Cancer, Chicago’s heavy-prog-jazzers Sons of Ra show how they can unspool variations on a theme with staggering impact. Setting a nimble, dancing idea with roots in fusion’s golden age into motion, multi-instrumentalists Erik Oldman and Keith Wakefield and drummer Michael Rataj put it through exhilarating paces over 23 minutes: you get wah-wah electric piano extrapolations, a sax/bass duet over a bed of guitar/sax noise; a wonderfully idiomatic folk/Celtic throwdown (complete with guests on violin, flute and pipa); a Santanesque guitar jam that spirals up dizzingly before it goes off like a fireworks display; and a gargantuan finish with hypnotic sax wailing over a shuddering guitar army. No jive; this is great stuff, and Sons of Ra are a band to which attention must be paid!
King Crimson-adjacent power trio Markus Reuter, Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto are also back with the ironically titled Tu-Ner for Lovers, another heaping helping of rich, doomy thrash. Sculpted from improvs recorded on their 2023 tour, the trio scrape, scratch and scrawl from the get-go, with Mastelotto laying down off-kilter tribal beats, Gunn rattling listeners’ innards with sludgy bass lines and Reuter slapping down arresting leads and color clusters on touch guitar. Stalking the abstract sublime, the music coalesces as the album progresses, locking in to galvanizing effect on closing stompers “They Call Him Threnody” and “Transistor Valentine”, wispily floater “I Put a Crush on You” and skittering finale “Combat and Courtship”. You may need to be in the right mood for this to grab you — alienation? Righteous anger? — but when you are, boy, does it hit home!
Kamasi Washington’s long-awaited double album Fearless Movement is every bit as kickass and sprawling as previous spectaculars The Epic and Heaven and Earth (the latter my 2018 Album of the Year), but somehow settles in a gentler, more welcoming vein. It kicks off with “Lesanu”, an Egyptian Orthodox chant of Psalm 96 riding first a free-jazz slam, then a finger-snapping, hand-clapping vamp and ends with “Prologue”, an Astor Piazzolla tango that morphs into a blaxploitation movie theme; at all points within and between, Washington on tenor sax, keyboardists Cameron Graves and Brandon Coleman, Ryan Porter and Dontae Winslow on brass, and a platoon of guests play and sing up a storm. But slower burning tracks like “Asha the First” and “Together” provide respite from the intensity of Washington’s sweep and surge, and a looser, relaxed sense of momentum on the Zapp cover “Computer Love” and the extended workout “Road to Self (KO)” helps you catch your breath. Washington and his friends are still making audacious spiritual jazz, building from whispers to screams again and again and dancing across barlines like they don’t exist; but somehow this set feels more like a place to make a home than a monument to visit. And yes, this one’s gonna be on my Favorites list this time around, too . . .
And sometimes, you just need some down-home picking and singing. On the heels of selling out the Ryman Auditorium (documented on record to great effect last year) and duetting with Willie Nelson, Charley Crockett pitches a passel of new songs our way on $10 Cowboy(LISTEN HERE) As with much of Crockett’s recent work, this album leans into soul nearly as much as country; the choogling brass and choral vocals of “America”, the piano-with-strings heartbreaker “Gettin’ Tired Again” and the funky “Diamond in the Rough” can’t help but call Motown and Memphis to mind. But there’s plenty of Nashville/Austin classicism too, in the steel guitar-laced single “Hard Luck and Circumstances”, the Latin-flavored acoustic revenge ballad “Spade” and the honky tonk shuffle “Ain’t Done Losing It” Whether this is the long-predicted breakthrough for Crockett or not, $10 Cowboy is a thoroughly satisfying album, capturing sharply defined snapshots of a nation wondering when things will get better.
And (thanks to the copious music collection found at the main branch of the Grand Rapids Public Library), I discovered that Sierra Ferrell’s 2021 debut Long Time Coming is every bit as good as her new one (Trail of Flowers, reviewed last time). My entire notes for this one consisted of the word “WOW!!”, so I’ll just point you in the direction of this review (from my go-to site for genre news and reviews, Saving Country Music), add Long Time Coming to my 2024 Favorites list and look forward to hearing her live in September!
For your consideration, recent releases from the worlds of prog, jazz, folk, country and marvelously unclassifiable music. As usual, purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listing, with streaming previews below the review.
Can, Live in Paris 1973: Another immensely enjoyable archive release from the guys who sent krautrock into orbit with a winning combination of tight grooves and freeform jamming. The fresh angle this time around is the presence of late vocalist Damo Suzuki; locking in with Jaki Liebezeit’s propulsive percussion, the throbbing bass of Holger Czukay, and Michael Karoli and Irwin Schmidt’s guitar/keyboard interplay, Suzuki burbles, banters, bickers – a daffy, devious jester who pulls improvised melody and lyric from thin air as he goes along. Oh, and forget about sounding “just like the records” – studio tracks “One More Night” and “Spoon” are touched on to kick off the jams, then abandoned or deepened, stretched like taffy to the point of sonic hypnosis, mannnn . . . Five gripping examples of Can’s live prowess; whether they could actually stop time or not (it may have been the psychedelics), these ninety minutes of unbridled creativity go by in a flash.
The Bill Fay Group, Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow: Ignored in the late 1960s and early 70s, British singer-songwriter Fay achieved cult favorite status after Wilco covered his hymnic “Be Not So Fearful” in the wake of 9/11. Utterly unlike the manneristic Dylan-meets-Kinks pop of his debut or the bleak rock crunch of 1971’s lost classic Time of the Last Persecution (both well worth seeking out), these vibrant demos from 1977 capture the gentle Christian mysticism at the heart of Fay’s songs, executed with grace and empathy by the three-piece Acme Quartet (?). The multiple versions of meditations like “Strange Stairway”, “Isles of Sleep” and “Life” radiate understated grace and power, foregoing apocalyptic panic to embrace simple, jubilant confessions of faith (“So that the world might believe/That Life has risen/That Life has conquered”). Prayers and hypnotic invocations that invite and welcome without rancor or hectoring, couched in song that’s timeless yet vividly in the moment.
Sierra Ferrell, Trail of Flowers:Widescreen mountain music for the anxious generation, this went straight to my 2024 Favorites list. In West Virginia native Ferrell’s sure grasp, her second album mounts to melodramatic heights on the wings of old time country. Ferrell’s sly, witty songwriting whiplashes between Americana subgenres to perfection; her opening run of originals – yearning road dog anthem “American Dreaming”, cautionary honky-tonk stomp “Dollar Bill Bar”, giddy fiddle reel “Fox Hunt”, and string-swathed heartbreaker “Wish You Well” left me astonished in the wake of their range and breadth. There isn’t a dud track here (check out jaunty Latin-tinged romp “Why Haven’t You Loved Me Yet”, murder ballad “Rosemary”, hybrid gospel/love song “Lighthouse” – oh heck, all of ’em); when you add in Ferrell’s beguiling voice (spanning the spectrum of twang from Janis Joplin to Dolly Parton and all points between) and gutsy fiddle work, plus producer Eddie Spear’s rich gothic ambience, the result is thoroughly winning. Believe the hype – if anybody can save country music from Greater Nashville’s ongoing torrent of processed pop, artists like Sierra Ferrell and Charley Crockett (both playing my local outdoor amphitheater this summer) are your best bet.
Vijay Iyer, Compassion: Building on the near-telepathic teamwork they established on 2021’s Uneasy (one of my faves from that year), pianist Iyer, bassist Linda May Han Oh and drummer Tyshawn Sorey come out swinging with this full-on follow-up. The impressionistic title tune shimmers into focus, with the trio relying on space and silence as much as sound; a luscious take on Stevie Wonder’s “Overjoyed” doubles as a tribute to Chick Corea, inspired by Iyer’s opportunity to play the late legend’s own piano. Whether on the angular, driving “Ghostrumental” or the rugged throwback blues “It Goes”, Oh pulls gorgeous melodies out of the air, Sorey whips up a seething percussive stew even as he grooves, and Iyer stirs in one heady, pensive idea after another. Iyer characterizes the music as “a reminder, an assurance, a plea, and perhaps an inspiration – to find each other in this together”; it’s a tribute to these exceptional musicians that, with what seems like maximum grace and minimum sweat, Compassion tangibly conjures up the empathy it advocates in sound.
Joel Ross, nublues: Chicago-born vibraphonist Ross impressed me to no end when I caught him live as part of the Blue Note 85th-Anniversary All-Star Band this past January. His fourth album is of a piece with his previous three: a soundworld of abstract yet delightfully contemplative jazz, soaked in the blues, always tumbling and turning with a non-stop flow of invention. Ross’ interaction with young saxophone lion Immanuel Wilkins (also an All-Star), Jeremy Corren on piano and bass/drums duo Kanoa Mendenhall and Jeremy Corren are the secret sauce at the music’s heart, whether putting their own spin on Thelonious Monk’s “Evidence” or John Coltrane’s “Equinox” and “Central Park West”, conjuring the title track from thin air – Mendenhall shines on bowed bass here – or building “Bach (God the Father in Eternity)” into a steamrolling surge of gospel-soaked eloquence. It’s like crashing a conversation already in progress and discovering you were invited all along.
SiX by SiX, Beyond Shadowland: Robert Berry, Ian Crichton and Nigel Glockler hit hard and strong, blasting past Difficult Second Album Syndrome to craft a wild and wooly extension of their first-rate debut. Sonically, this one comes across hotter and crunchier, as multi-instrumentalist Berry corrals Crichton’s hypercreative guitar licks into decidedly unconventional song structures, then layers in heaping helpings of lyrical positivity, while Glockler lays down rock solid percussive foundations. The result is a record that gets stronger as it goes, with head-turning surprises that stack up thick and fast: the acoustic-based sci-fi narrative “Obiliex”, the slashing, tribally funky “Titans”, the fuzz-toned flutter of “Sympathize” and, in “One Step”, an epic that progresses from yearning balladry through a proggy midsection to a hip-hop shuffle that works! Add in the relatively straight-up singles “Arms of a Word” and “The Mission” and you have a sophomore effort that oozes both mass appeal and maximum creativity. Check out the new Progarchy interview with Robert Berry here.
The Tangent, To Follow Polaris (released May 10):On which Andy Tillison takes off the gloves. Playing all the instruments himself (the album’s labeled “Tangent for one”) with style and panache, Tillison sails confidently through textures ranging from glitchy electronica to vintage soul and funk, with generous lashings of his trademark organ and synthesizer throughout. Kaleidoscopic overture/mission statement “The North Sky” lays down Tillison’s lyrical marker on graspable truth; brooding ballad-of-the-algorithm “A Like in the Darkness” paints a genuinely creepy portrait of online life; “The Fine Line” muses on the commodification of journalism, “destroy[ing] the world to sell the story”. Then on “The Anachronism”, Andy lets it rip – a furious jeremiad calling out both the ineffectual monocracy that’s lost its grip on events and the self-absorbed masses who watch it all happen on their phones. The whole thing builds to a crashing, anarchic climax – only to return to Tillison’s beginning, “follow[ing] the North Star/(When all around me seems to be going South)”. Be warned: something Tillison sings on this audacious, accomplished effort will probably cheese you off – but only because, in a world of grinning provocateurs, shameless attention whores and cynical game players, he’s a genuine idealist, with no other agenda than speaking his mind and wondering why we can’t have a better world.
Transatlantic, Morsefest 2022: The Absolute Whirlwind: Or should this be subtitled, “More Never Is Enough . . . Yet Again, Still”? Transatlantic’s second live set off the back of 2022’s The Absolute Universe, this five-CD, two-BluRay set certainly doesn’t skimp on the quantity. There’s five hours of music here from two consecutive nights: the twin album-length epics that provide the release’s title, three elongated ballads, a side-long Procol Harum cover, and bits and bobs of five more extended extravaganzas from the back catalog. It’s not all gravy; there are brief instants where the energy flags and, as Neal Morse and Roine Stolt strain to sing the high notes, I’m reminded that it’s been25 yearssince this supergroup first crashed into the prog world’s consciousness. But these are far outnumbered by the moments where Morse, Stolt, Pete Trewavas, Mike Portnoy and “fifth Transatlantic” Ted Leonard fire up the afterburners and launch into startlingly tight ensemble passages, awe-inspiring solos, pin-sharp vocal counterpoint (often backed up by a real choir), dizzying transitions and over-the-top, orchestrally augmented climaxes. Too much of a good thing? It’s possible – but, with the recent news that Portnoy’s resumed the drum chair in Dream Theater, Transatlantic isn’t a good thing to be taken for granted.