Album Reviews

Some people collect Tone Poet Blue Note reissues the way some people amass baseball cards. I know more than a few Tone Poet enthusiasts who, after buying one, had a Bert Lahr Lay’s potato chip moment and couldn’t stop buying them—at least until they encountered the late pianist/composer/arranger Andrew Hill’s Blue Note debut Black Fire (ST-84151/B0029975-01).

I meant to review this album of Norah Jones "extras" that she released last year but it kind of slipped through the cracks. It plays like a carefully thought out thematic song cycle but it isn't. Instead it's a set of "leftovers" from a series of collaborative efforts, many of which were released as singles. You might even think it's a personal "break-up" album, particularly given the album title, but it's not that either.

Is it possible to now write anything that hasn’t already been written or said about this record? I haven’t any fresh insights to offer that might advance what you probably already know. A good Kind of Blue pressing puts you in the 30th Street studio to hear the performance. Ashley Kahn’s “Kind of Blue” book sets the pre-recording stage, offering both musical and technical details and puts you as much in the control room as in front of the band.

In May of 1913, just one year before the start of the first World War, Igor Stravinsky premiered his third ballet with the Ballets Russes in Paris: Le Sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring). The premiere would go down in history for a number of reasons, primarily due to the unruly Parisian audience that descended into what could be referred to as a riot. What was so scandalous about the Rite? Stravinsky, along with choreographer Vaslav Nijinsky, wanted to evoke a picture of Russia from the distant, pagan past. A story of an ancient pagan rite where a young maiden would be chosen to dance herself to death to appease the ancestors and secure a bountiful harvest. The music, while stylistically not a huge departure from Stravinsky’s two previous and successful Parisian ballets, was dissonant, brutal, and rhythmically disorienting. Likewise, Nijinsky’s choreography was rigid, and was meant to mimic the flat, two-dimensional style of prehistoric paintings. The audience that night was not having it, but their uproar helped launch the Rite into infamy, helping it to become one of the most talked about and often performed works of the 20th century.

“Peace and love” is the defining mantra of Ringo Starr, one of two surviving Beatles. It’s sappy, cheesy, and agonizingly overused, but in all seriousness, it’s a message the world desperately needs. Though there’s a lot to hate, love is, in my mind, the true meaning of life. Keep in mind, I say this having learned it from others, namely the musicians I admire. Ringo, now 80 years old (he really doesn’t look it), is one of many who gather conclusions from a long, rich life. It’s here, on this EP, where the superstar shares his wisdom.

I remember a time when a friend would visit weekly, and we’d gather around a laptop and sing songs. While our musical tastes were usually in synch, there would always be a tune or two that made one of us frown. Consequently, I ended up learning a lot about his musical tastes, as I’m sure he did of mine. One night, after singing “All My Loving” for the umpteenth time (this is when my Beatles obsession began), he queued a song from Weezer— a band I had never before heard of. I can’t recall the name of the song, but I politely smiled through it, readying my dismissal of the group.

Lana Del Rey is living proof that what’s old will come around, and what’s new isn’t always better. AnalogPlanet readers and writers alike are quite familiar with this sentiment. Nothing beats the magic of the vinyl record. As most music consumers jump between formats, I often ask myself, “Why move past something that works so well?” Lana Del Rey, an enthusiast of all things vintage, asks the same question, only with music.