Album Reviews

Perhaps, in a perfect audiophile world, Shel Talmy would have arranged to remix these three-track originals to analog for the LP release and to digital for the CD. But this isn't a perfect world. However, compared to my original American Decca "stereo" pressing of The Who Sings My Generation (Decca DL 74664), this is perfection. The original stereo edition was an electronically reprocessed, boxy-sounding compressed mess. While purists may have preferred it in mono, the stereo remix found in My Generation (Deluxe Edition) is respectful and keeps most of the action centered, avoiding hard-left and -right separation. I did get a chance to hear an original UK Brunswick mono pressing, and this reissue has nothing to be ashamed of.

Critics are probably not supposed to like the kind of retro-kitsch proffered by The Puppini Sisters, a trio of unrelated gals based in the UK, though one of them, Marcella is a Puppini, or at least goes by the name.

Wilco’s return to intimately drawn electro-acoustic folk and away from electronic experimentation gives the latest outing a comforting organic coherence and an intensely direct sense of musical purpose. The more tightly constrained concept yields greater discipline and a compelling concentration of useful ideas, tune after tune.

Rock ‘n’ roll historians invariably trace the roots of the now-expansive, constantly morphing music to a Mississippi bluesman named Robert Johnson, a 1930s guitarist who ostensibly made a deal with the devil – trading his mortal soul for stellar talent - one night at a rural intersection (a “crossroads”). Johnson’s canon of songs, bolstered by his pioneer legacy and dark mythology, is embraced universally as being instrumental to the very structure of rock ‘n’ roll.

When Quantegy, the last analog tape manufacturer, went into bankruptcy late last year, Wilco's Jeff Tweedy was quoted in a Wall Street Journal story saying something to the effect that the tape upon which his albums are recorded may become worth more than the recordings themselves and that the tape may have to be recycled so the group could continue recording.

Richard Buckner has one of the most instantly recognizable voices in Rock music today. A plaintive wail that expresses sadness better than anyone save perhaps Mark Eitzel, Buckner's latest (and sixth overall) album, and first for progressive independent-label Merge Records, features a nice mix of his traditional acoustic laments as well as some bold electric guitar-laden rockers. Recorded at Wavelab Studios in Tucson as well as Tophat Studios in Austin Texas, Dents & Shells contains fascinating insights into the breakdown of relationships and the regeneration of the human spirit following such events. Buckner has recently gone through a divorce so it is not a stretch to read into these tunes from an autobiographical perspective.