Album Reviews

Archie Shepp “Mama Too Tight” (1966)

“Mama Too Tight” is an album whose original vinyl sides served as a proper division– the first side is among the most difficult to digest, but like many of the more complex free jazz works, bears rewards with repeated listens, the second side is much more accessible, moving through moods on the three different tunes. What makes this record difficult is the odd instrumentation– Shepp blows his tenor, and adds to this clarinet (Perry Robinson), trumpet (Tommy Turrentine), two trombones (Grachan Moncur III and Roswell Rudd), tuba (the mighty Howard Johnson, and a pianoless rhythm section (bassist Charlie Haden and drummer Beaver Harris). This unusual instrumentation is partially responsible for the difficulty in digesting the material on “Mama Too Tight”.

In particular, on the first side, “A Portrait of Rober Thompson (as a young man)”. While it feels like free improv, there appears to be a highly concrete structure, as Shepp states, restates, and exposes various themes (mostly gospel, march and swing influenced) throughout the piece. But it is tough, because it feels at times like an incoherent mess. Patience is the key to this one– early on, the more conventionally structured second side will be soothing in comparison. Over time, the piece will come to make sense, but patience and repeated focused listening will be required.
The second side is definitely more conventional, “Mama Too Tight” is a funky blowout, Mingus-like in its voicing and gospel-tinged hard bop styling, with some stunning soloing on the part of all the musicians involved. Like Mingus’ gospel-oriented work, this is just a lot of fun, a great great song, and actually is one of the most straightforward pieces on any early Shepp record– only his solo shows any real signs of the “Fire Music” sound. The ballad, “Theme for Ernie”, played passionately by Shepp with brass support voiced in an orchestral fashion, shwocases the leader’s ability to invoke mood and emotion through his playing. Shepp’s tone is thin and airy and has a plea of pain in it– this is really among the most beautiful work he’s ever done. “Basheer”, continuing the thread of more conventional sounds, has a big band does the blues feel to it– the playing is somewhat more “out” than the previous two, and once again, Shepp just wails away. its a really interesting piece.

Overall, this is a really great album, and probably a good jumping in point for Shepp’s work– it can be a bit difficult at first, but there’s a lot of great material here and its well worth the listen. —Michael

Eloy “Ocean” (1977)

Ocean continues Eloy’s astral voyage via an appropriately watery retelling of the legend of Atlantis, Bornemann recounting the saga through his awe-struck, thick Germanic accent as the band delivers elegantly zonked-out jams buttressed by epic synthscapes and the mesmerizing bass riffs of Klaus-Peter Matziol. While the telling of Ocean’s narrative occasionally gets in the way of the music, the tracks’ extended forms are the perfect vehicle for Eloy’s brand of cosmic rock. —Ben

Giorgio Moroder “Knights in White Satin” (1976)

From the cover shot (which appears to have been taken in a sauna) onward, “Knights in White Satin” is a steamy, sleazy Euro disco album that manages to be both captivating and creepy at the same time. Over a steady kick drum beat, bouncy disco strings, and his trademark synthetic beeps, Moroder’s whispered, dirty old man vocals deliver erotically charged lyrics through his thick accent (and his thicker beard) that start off funny, only to make you feel like you need a shower by the end of the LP. And therein lies the appeal of the album, it’s infectious danceability is undeniable, while the wrongness of Moroder’s vocal contribution is curiously fascinating. Only in the seventies, and only in Europe, could “Knights in White Satin” have been born, so enjoy it for what it is. –Ben

Far East Family Band “Parallel World” (1976)

Proteges of Pink Floyd, Tangerine Dream, and Klaus Schulze, The Far East Family Band released a handful of LPs back in the mid to late 70s before the group’s main synthesist/keyboardist, Kitaro, went onto a solo career and eventual international stardom as the doyen of new age music. Parallel World (their third release) is in fact a very good album from the 70s psych/prog/electronic sound nexus. The opening track “Metempsychosis” is pure cosmic Zen electonica, with its hypnotic, unobtrusive tribal drumming and whir of electronic effects. The sprawling epic title track (over 30 minutes in length) is like a stereo wet dream for space cadets: whoosing synthesizers, elegant mellotron, wordless chants, and some effective psychedelic guitar textures. In general, the whole album evokes quiet images that you might associate with being levitated or suspended in space. If you like Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, or even newby spacers like the Orb and Future Sound of London, you’ll like FEFB. —Hawklord

Curtis Mayfield “Sweet Exorcist” (1974)

I’m not sure if Sweet Exorcist is the most underrated album of all time. I do know that it would make the short list for such a title. Popular opinion dictates that this record marked the moment when Curtis stopped making classics; but for my money, it’s actually his best album not named Superfly. Some of the rawest, hardest-hitting music I’ve ever heard is present here.

The album is bookended by “Ain’t Got Time” and “Make Me Believe in You,” two numbers which go hand-in-hand with each other. They exude urgent yet stripped-down funk, and do a perfect job opening and closing the album. Also cut from the same cloth: “To Be Invisible” and “Suffer,” a pair of powerful ballads.

These are incredible songs, as well as “Power to the People,” which is uplifting yet directly political in classic Mayfield fashion. There are two particular cuts on Sweet Exorcist, however, which are among the all-time greats. The first is the title track, which manages to be peaceful, packed with emotion and subtly badass all at once. The other: “Kung Fu,” the album’s big single. Sometimes written off as a gimmicky “me too” from the “Kung Fu Fighting” era, it’s actually one of the grittiest, rawest funk tracks ever recorded.

The production is uniformly excellent, albeit in a way far different from the lush arrangements of Curtis or Superfly. The closest comparison, stylistically, would be Roots’ key track “Underground.” If you’re like me and consider that one of Mayfield’s finest songs, Sweet Exorcist will resonate with you in a big way. —Sterling

Masekela “Home Is Where the Music Is” (1972)

Hugh Masekela is one of the more colorful characters in jazz and has done numerous things in the course of his career, some of which, especially his forays into pop music, have caused critics to sneer at him; however, when he entered a studio in London with fellow South Africans Dudu Phukwana and Makhaya Ntshoko and the Americans Larry Willis and Eddie Gomez in 1972, the result was an unqualified and an undisputed success.

Home Is Where the Music Is is a fusion album in the best sense of the word, because it fuses only the most successful elements to arrive at a whole that is much larger than its parts. Masekela and main composer/producer Caiphus Semenya draw from traditional South African music, American jazz, soul and funk with a dash of spiritual jazz, and thanks to an ensemble in which each musician is no less than outstanding, the result is a thouroughly engaging, deeply soulful album that captivates the listener from the very first moment.

Masekela is clearly at the top of his game here; the range of tonal colors that he produces on his flügelhorn is remarkable, his use of half-valve tones and slurs impressive; at times you almost expect the valves to pop out of the horn. Phukwana is no second; while probably not quite as quick-fingered, he is firmly in the groove, and when he digs in, you want to follow him down every inch.

The fusion movement may have produced numerous misguided albums, expressing confusion rather than fusion, but Home Is Where the Music Is is one of the best examples of the genre. —Brian

Neil Young and Crazy Horse “Zuma” (1975)

The genius of Zuma can really be be summed up by looking at the cover for a few seconds. A peice of shit? Politically incorrect? Wasted? Definetly. All that and more, but in a great way that’s truely representative of American attidude in art and the human spirit itself, which is “fuck it”. Throw finesse out the window, close your eyes, and floor it. Let your gut and your soul make every decision and only keep your brain around to hold the massive amounts of cocaine you’re giving it. This is the world ZUMA was birthed in. Neil was finally free from a sprawling divorce and the unwanted fame following him since Harvest. He was not going to approach any love songs like a well spoken folkie. Too pussy, too dishonest. To really say what he felt he had to do while giving the finger, even when the songs are overwhelmingly beautiful. Unreserved 70’s guitar rock at it’s classic best, but capturing a vibe in the open feeling and wasted irony that still sounds fresh next to The Replacements’ Let it Be or Guided by Voices’ Propeller. –Alex

Twisted Sister “Under the Blade” (1982)

Most people today remember Twisted Sister as the spearhead of the Hair Metal movement with their poppy bubble gum anthems all over rock radio. In truth the band dates back to the 70s and began as a hard rock glam act before vocalist Dee Snider arrived and introduced the music of Judas Priest, AC/DC, Sabbath, and the New Wave of British Heavy Metal. This debut is far removed from what will follow two albums later with 1983’s breakthrough album, “Stay Hungry”, containing a sound that is raw and mean, stripped down and primal.

Each track is a classic of it’s kind: “What you Don’t Know, Sure Can Hurt You” is an awesome Alice Cooper inspired anthem (echoes of his “Hello Hooray!”) that welcomes us into their metal world. Rebellious and insidious, this is a perfect way to set up the heavy album. “Run For Your Life” features a great melodic spoken intro by Snider that recalls Zeppelin before the song gets heavy and speeds up to the level of Priest brutality. “Sin After Sin” is clearly titled as a tribute to the Priest masterpiece of 1977 of the same name. And the song very much recalls the same sound from those 70s records, clearly showing the band was capable of such. “Shoot Em Down” rocks like heavy Kiss but features a more UFO inspired chorus. “Under The Blade” is Twisted Sister’s best song and my personal favorite, this is the one all Manowar loving metalheads reach for first. Guitarist Jay Jay French’s riff is one of his best and the lyrics are among the best the band ever wrote. “Tear It Loose” is a speed metaller that is inspired by Motorhead. Motorhead’s ace guitarist, Fast Eddie Clark, even contributed a solo to the classic. Another album standout.

Under the Blade ranks as one of the great debuts of Heavy Metal and one of the best albums of 1982. It’s one of my personal favorites, and one that is a must for fans of the NWOBHM and Traditional Metal. An absolute Metal essential that will have the committed headbanger going back for many more trips “under the blade”. —James

Status Quo “Piledriver” (1972)

The no-frills cover shot of the heads-down Status Quo frontline on Piledriver tells the story via the show-of-force image and the big, bold group logo in bright red. With no-holds-barred aggression, the major label debut from the boys in blue is a steamrollin’ onslaught of early seventies three chord boogie, blooze and rawk. Recorded live in the studio, the aptly titled Piledriver rolls into action behind the chuggin’ combo platter of “Don’t Waste My Time” and “Oh Baby”, while adding the five-minute slow ridin’ “Unspoken Words”, the chucky drive of “Big Fat Mama”, the short “Paper Plane”, and the lengthy closing cover jam of “Roadhouse Blues”. Pile on! —Jon

Laura Nyro “Eli and the Thirteenth Confession” (1968)

In the spring of 1968, Laura Nyro’s Columbia Records debut Eli and the Thirteenth Confession unleashed something very unique and beautiful onto the scene. Unfortunately, the album fell on mostly deaf ears, peaking at #189 on the Billboard 200. Nearly thirty years later, Laura Nyro is still woefully unknown to the public, although the potency of her music remains.

While the instrumentation and influences evident in Eli and the Thirteenth Confession are mostly familiar, new perspectives and directions make the album into the radical experience that it is. Reviewers commonly refer to the music as an amalgamation of Soul, Pop, Jazz, Broadway, and whatever else, but these styles are so expertly fused into something wonderfully new, that naming the possible components just isn’t worthwhile. “Sweet Blindness” may sound age-old, but there’s never been another drinking song remotely like it. “Poverty Train” goes to more places, and back again, than any of Bob Dylan and company’s “protest” songs. Sexual revolutions and all, a woman ending her album by screaming “love my lovething” had to have been something original. Throughout the record, Laura’s voice, piano, and guitars careen and writhe all over, tempos and chord structures being swept to and fro at her pleasing. But originality is only half of the story. The energy and sincerity of Laura’s songs is at once confounding and life-affirming. If we’d like to use the term, Laura Nyro had a hell of a lot of soul. Her voice alone creates much of the appeal of the record, at times sorrowful, grumbling, at times joyful and chirping, but at all times infinitely human.

This is a definition of a master in one space in time, and a model for the kind of innovations that can be borne of Popular music. Maybe in another thirty years Laura will have the audience she always deserved. —Matthew

Jefferson Airplane “Bark” (1971)

It is hard to believe that upon its release in 1971, Bark was poorly reviewed. In retrospect, its musical closeness to Jefferson Airplane’s earlier work, especially 1969’s Volunteers, is striking. “When the Earth Moves Again” is a collective, anthemic song in the same mould and of the same quality as “We Can Be Together,” and “Crazy Miranda” is clearly by the author of “rejoyce.” What makes Bark special is the move of Slick and the astonishingly under-valued Jorma Kaukonen to the foreground and the new casual, almost frayed approach to performing and recording. Also new is a shift away from the already-qualified counter-culture sentiments of Volunteers towards a more resigned, knowing worldview: “Third Week in the Chelsea” is painful in its directness, but gorgeous in its craftsmanship and execution; Slick’s “Law Man” projects a tired, slightly annoyed, spirit that Slick could tap into so well. New to the band was the funky and sensual punch of tunes like “Feel So Good” and “Pretty As You Feel,” which project a randy-to-sultry adult sexuality absent from their more whimsical “love” songs of the ’60s. Confirms that the early ’70s were the high water mark for the extended Airplane family. —Toolshed4

Jackie McLean “Destination Out!” (1964)

Based on the title, I was expecting some blistering, fast-paced jazz, probably dominated by squalling saxophone and so on. For those of you who have listened to Destination Out! already, you will know that I found this not to be the case. Perhaps I should have taken more heed of the exclaimation mark, because in many ways I can draw similarities between what Jackie does here and what Eric Dolphy was doing on Out To Lunch! Admittedly, this tends not to have the skronkier qualities of that album, but firstly, the replacement of piano with vibes is obvious, and then there’s the combination of weird, staggering music that’s somehow also really accessible and exuberantly fun to listen to. This is often cited as a pretty essential jazz album, especially in the context of post/hard bop, and honestly, I can really say it is. There are few albums which really nail experimentation and accessibility at the same time, but the sophisticated and restrained, often atmospheric playing on Destination Out! means that even with the odd rhythms and wonderfully wonky playing this is still a pleasure to listen to over and over again. A classic. —Timmay