Album Reviews

Aimee Mann’s pensive, surreal walk through a littered landscape of love gone wrong, double dealings, temptations (drugs and otherwise) and painful breakups (not hers— she’s still married to Michael Penn last time I checked) owes a great deal conceptually and lyrically to Elvis Costello’s Imperial Bedroom—at least to my ears. You can almost hear El singing “Guys Like Me” and “Invisible Ink.”

This is such a wide-ranging album of varying degrees of music and entertainment that it’s virtually impossible to classify or label…and that’s probably the way Judy Henske enjoyed it. Like her first two albums for Elektra, this collection of songs ranges from Broadway-inspired pop to folk to soul, folk-rock, and blues (and beyond). Henske’s ability to mark her territory in all of these genres, define it… and then burn it down - is decidedly spellbinding. But aside from her astonishing voice, this live in-the-studio record captures her hilarious, slightly stoned-out humor. To be sure, they’ll probably be a few listeners who will be tempted to skip some of the lengthy, in between song raps and introductions; but they’d be selling themselves short. Inspired by Lenny Bruce and Lord Buckley (among others) Judy’s politically-incorrect/Beat attitude wreaks havoc over codified ‘rules’ of public behavior, especially for women in 1966. As emancipated, independent and equally talented as Slick, Joplin or Elliot, Judy Henske should be mentioned in the same breath as those women - and the proof is right here.

They’ve been out of commission for 22 years, but you’d never know it listening to Mission of Burma’s powerful, bracingly-fresh, time-warp of a post-punk/art-rocking noise assault, recorded last year. It sounds more like someone lowered the stylus on a record that’s been spinning silently for decades than the premier effort of a re-formed trio of middle- aged geezers who sound as youthfully exuberant as they did in 1979.

Maybe you kicked yourself for not buying Steve Hoffman’s outstanding re-mastering of The All Tme Greatest Hits of Roy Oribison issued by DCC Compact Classics almost a decade ago. Maybe you didn’t have a turntable back then. Or maybe you have a copy of that limited edition release and you think it is now gaining value.It's not, now that this edition is about to be released.

At a time when glam “hair bands” reigned, and “synth bands” waned, two guys named David and a producer named Davitt decided to make a grittier sound—a rock-roots kind of album—yet one that didn’t stray completely from the synth strains still permeating pop music.

The review of the original Blix Street vinyl issue appeared in the February, 2003 musicangle.com home page. I wouldn't bet heavily against Nick Webb's Abbey Road mastering and Pallas's pressing quality, so when this S&P reissue showed up, I wondered how it could possibly improve upon the original—good as Steve Hoffman's work can be—but this reissue, mastered at AcousTech and pressed at RTI, does improve on the original.

Perhaps this 1963 session isn’t peak Mingus, but it’s still unpredictable, volatile Mingus, leading two different 10 piece ensembles recorded in January and September of 1963. Side one’s group includes Eric Dolphy, Booker Ervin and Jaki Bayard, among others, and Mingus’s arrangements let them take flight beginning with a rumbling “II B.S.” (two bullshit), which probably became the template for every second rate jazz composer scoring for 1960’s television crime shows. The track absolutely smokes, fueled by Britt Woodman’s angry trombone blats and Jaki Bayard’s controlled keyboard pounding. Try not to get charged up when this track is playing.