Rick’s Quick Takes for Q4!

No haikus this time, I promise! However, I am going to try and make up for my recent radio silence by covering a lot of ground at a fast and furious pace. Listening links will be available in the title listings. Buckle up . . .

Completely new & noteworthy releases have seemed few and far between the last few months — although I’ve not yet heard the new Neal Morse album Time Lord has so fulsomely praised. My hands-down favorite (easily making my year-end shortlist) has to be Firebrand, the farewell album from Norwegian keyboard trio Ring Van Möbius. On three extended tracks, Thor Erik Helgesen delivers more frenzied organ riffs and howling modular synthesizer licks per minute than we’ve heard since the glory days of Emerson, Lake & Palmer — plus thoroughly unhinged singing of Dag Olav Husås’ trippy lyrics to boot! With Havard Rasmussen’s growling bass and Husås’ throbbing percussion driving the album to multiple shattering climaxes, Firebrand is a demented psychedlic journey to the outer limits of angular, aggressive prog — and all the more gripping on account of it! Meanwhile Tony Levin, Markus Reuter and Pat Mastoletto are back as Stick Men for a 5-track EP of new material, Brutal. This one packs a serious, King Crimson-adjacent punch; the title track, “Bash Machine” and “Pulp” all live up to their names, leaping out of the speakers with heady abandon, precision instrumental riffery, and dense blocks of hardcore sound. More, please! And whatever the debate over the merits of Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest film One Battle After Another, Jonny Greenwood provides yet another arresting soundtrack for the director; this time around, Greenwood foregrounds jagged piano over his exquisitely modernist orchestral textures (as well as the occasional gnarly reminder of his trademark guitar sounds in Radiohead and The Smile).

On the other hand, there’s a motherlode of excellent live albums out this quarter! Big Big Train score yet again with Are We Nearly There Yet?, as Alberto Bravin, Greg Spawton and their band of equals blitz through 2024’s fabulous The Likes of Us on disc 1, then gloriously reaffirm BBT back-catalog highlights and rarities on disc 2. District 97 has buffed up and expanded their stellar 2013 collaboration with John Wetton, One More Red Night: Live in Chicago, doubling the disc’s playing time with the Wetton/Leslie Hunt duet “The Perfect Young Man” and D97’s debut album epic “Mindscan”. Reunited with Mike Portnoy, Dream Theater’s 3-CD, 2-BluRay Quarantieme: Live a Paris is an unbeatable 40th-anniversary souvenir; from the crunchy, complex metal of “Metropolis” and Scenes from a Memory through phone-waving power ballads like “Hollow Years” and “The Spirit Carries On” to full-on prog suites “Stream of Consciousness” and “Octavarium”, the entire band operates at a new peak. And, while mashing up a new production of Hamlet with songs from Radiohead’s Hail to the Thief for the Royal Shakespeare Company, Thom Yorke decided the group’s concert takes on the material deserved their own release. Hail to the Thief (Live Recordings 2003-2009) is a banger well worth fans’ time; Radiohead is at their most feral here, squeezing fresh juice from the album’s fuzzed-up, squelchy snapshots of cultural unease with a tightened-up yet wilder sound.

Still, two live particular live releases stood out for me. David Gilmour’s 2024 tour set, available as audio from throughout (The Luck and Strange Concerts) or breathtaking video of a single show (Live at the Circus Maximus), is sleek and spectacular in equal measure, the subdued melancholy and sublimated anger of his solo albums and late Pink Floyd interlaced with the familiar flavors of selected Floyd classics. One of the best things about this set is that it isn’t all Gilmour’s baby: Greg Phillinganes ably fills the keyboard and vocal roles of Richard Wright on “Time”; daughter Romany visibly steals the Rome audience’s heart with her lead vocal on “Between Two Points”; backing vocalists Louise Campbell and The Webb Sisters light up a fresh take on “The Great Gig in the Sky” plus recent solo songs “The Piper’s Call” and “A Boat Lies Waiting”. But Gilmour is still the star, never disappointing on the standards, raising chills with his singing and solos every bit as much on “A Great Day for Freedom” and “High Hopes” as on “Wish You Were Here” and “Comfortably Numb”, his young backing band keeping up all the while. Unmissable, and a unquestioned 2025 Favorite, especially the video version.

Plus, just this past week I discovered my holiday album of the year! Yorkshire songstress Kate Rusby, “the nightingale of Barnsleydale”, has made eight Christmas albums in the last two decades; her latest, Christmas Is Merry, is a live compilation from recent December tours that celebrates the season with the joy and awe it deserves. From whimsical takes on Tin Pan alley chestnuts (“It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”, “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”) to rumbustious traditional carols (“Hark Hark”, “Sunny Bank”) to off-center originals (“Glorious”), all backed by a trad folk band and brass, Rusby is guaranteed to raise a smile. And when she switches to her intimate croon for the foreboding “The Moon Shines Bright” and a hushed “O Little Town of Bethlehem”, I dare you not to be moved. An immediate 2025 Favorite; you really need to hear this.

There have been first-rate reissues aplenty as well. My Favorites have been: The Zombies’ long-neglected Summer of Love classic Odessey and Oracle remastered in mono, with Colin Blunstone’s sublime vocals and Rod Argent’s classically tinged organ propelling an impressively mature song suite; the 20th anniversary remaster of Sigur Ros’ Takk — a delightfully imaginative, massively symphonic highlight of the Icelandic post-rockers’ output; and Pink Floyd’s 50th anniversary edition of their elegiac masterpiece Wish You Were Here (especially the BluRay release, which includes a complete 1975 show suitably exhumed from its original bootleg by Steven Wilson).

And there are lots more reissues worth a listen: the 1983 debut from Detroit pop-proggers Art in America (they had a harp player — yes, a giant harp, one with all those strings) along with their unreleased second album Rise; Steve Hackett’s album-length acoustic collaboration with Shakespeare and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, A Midsummer Night’s Dream; fresh Steven Wilson remixes in stereo, surround and Atmos of King Crimson’s transitional albums In the Wake of Poseidon (Robert Fripp and Peter Sinfield carrying on from the innovative debut with a rotating cast of characters) and Lizard (free jazz meets post-Wagnerian romanticism; quite the magnificent mess); Nick d’Virgilio and Mark Hornby’s long-unavailable, polystylistic Rewiring Genesis: A Tribute to The Lamb Lies On Broadway (with full orchestra on “In the Cage” a Dixieland “Counting Out Time”, sneaky Jethro Tull quotes tucked in the fadeout of “The Waiting Room”, etc.)

Lastly, while the music industry’s annual fourth-quarter release glut means that my box set backlog is worse than ever, I can wholeheartedly recommend the super-deluxe version of the original The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway; while the set’s Atmos mix has been controversial, its straight-up stereo remaster gives the music an absorbing clarity that fills in the blanks of Peter Gabriel’s opaque storyline, and a live bootleg from Genesis’ contemporaneous tour (with vocals mostly overdubbed by Gabriel 20 years later) is equally, winningly surreal. Finally, the 20-disc Peter Hammill: The Charisma and Virgin Recordings, 1971-1986 isn’t for the faint of heart — but given Hammill’s track record with Van der Graaf Generator, hardcore enthusiasts like me knew that anyway. Boundless existential musings set to music of structural, timbral and histrionic extremes — nearly 200 tracks, with 1975’s proto-punk album Nadir’s Big Chance and 1977’s dark, devastating break-up song cycle Over standing out. Hammill (who opened for Genesis during parts of The Lamb tour) may be strong meat, but he never gives less than his all.

— Rick Krueger

Rick’s Quick Takes for April

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

This month’s favorites:

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

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

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

This month’s jazz:

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

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

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

This month’s veteran (cosmic?) rockers:

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

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

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

Box Set of the Month:

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

–Rick Krueger