Viewers of late night American television during the 1970s and 1980s surely know Romanian pan-flutist Zamfir. His albums were direct marketed all over the tube back then. The ads were kitschy, with Zamfir playing pan flute versions of standards. The vibe was Liberace on a pan flute—an image I apologize for leaving you with.
With heartfelt help and support from his friends, Warren Zevon's musical sendoff is like a good funeral: a mixture of tears, laughter, fond remembrances, and in the end, a celebration of a life worth living, and one that obviously touched both those close at hand, and those seated in the audience.
In describing the art of writing a serenade and Tchaikovsky’s relationship to it, annotator Fred Grunfeld wrote back in 1958 that the composer “prefer(ed) a well-filled concert hall to a single lady on a balcony.” No kidding!
One of the great "almost" bands of the 1960s, The Zombies had a career framed by two massive number-one hits: "She's Not There" in the summer of 1964 and "Time of the "Season" in 1969. It would be difficult to believe that any pop-music lover reading this has not heard those haunting minor-key tunes. This 20-track compilation demonstrates that The Zombies had much more to offer in between, but getting it all in one place has been difficult--and this compilation, good as it is, misses a few gems. If you want it all, try to find a copy of the four-CD, 119-track box set Zombie Heaven (ZOMBOX#7) issued in 1997 by Ace in the U.K.
For sound adventurers in the early days of stereo, no one’s musical arrangements fit the bill like Esquivel’s. They make Enoch Light’s close-miked percussive stuff on Command sound like punk-rock.
One side of this 1975 release gives you a smokin’ hot live recording of mindless, Texas-style speed-boogie music (the mind is not a terrible thing to waste!), while the other is a somewhat more introspective studio set.
In 2014, Swedish cloud rap artist and Drain Gang collective leader Bladee (Benjamin Reichwald) emerged with the lo-fi cloud rap single “Into Dust.” The song’s shallow lyrics (“I’m gonna bleed in the club/I got weed in my lungs/I don’t need any love/I can’t feel when I’m drunk”) and rudimentary video (a sunglasses- and sweater-clad Bladee stumbling through a forest with “WHYY” superimposed over the footage) are often memed, though he’s shifted styles several times since then.
Did you catch Train on The Howard Stern Show last week? The group performed a new, not particularly memorable single from their upcoming album and then at Howard’s request launched into a spectacular cover of “What Is And What Should Never Be” from Led Zeppelin II —an album originally released October 22nd, 1969.