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I don't own A Few Small Repairs, the album this track is from, even though my friend JoEllen insists it's the best album ever. I'm more partial to Shawn Colvin in this solo format than I am to the arrangements on her albums. This song catapulted Colvin into Top 40 pop status this past year, which is perhaps another reason I don't own the album.
Call it rockabilly, call it western swing, call it honkytonk or hillbilly. Tim gave me this indie label release for Xmas 1996, and a year later I'm in a country band. Do the math. Might be a difficult album to find, but you could always try contacting Heyday Records at heyday@heyday.com.
We first heard these folks on West Coast Live. Their music draws its inspiration from the "gypsy jazz" of Django Reinhardt and Stephanie Grapelli in 1920s and 1930s Paris. The Quintet doesn't seem to be playing much around town lately, as more and more swing combos pop up in their former venues. Lead guitarist and composer Paul Mehling in fact has his own swing band, Jellyroll, who was playing when we went to the Top of the Mark for Christa's birthday.
It took me a while to find this 1991 collection at a price I wanted to pay. I knew I wanted it as soon as I heard this track, four or five years ago, by one of my favorite bands ever. I had already heard Elvis Costello's version of "Ship of Fools" and Lyle Lovett's "Friend of the Devil." This is the only album of Grateful Dead music I will ever buy.
We encountered these guys, who perform in overalls and bow ties, at the Live Oak Music Festival down near Santa Barbara. They are, as they say, "the real deal," having been singing together for decades without major label attention. All that has changed with the release of their newest album, which teams them with incongruous major label artists (e.g. Bruce Hornsby) and has Isaac Freeman (the bass) artificially loud in the mix. At least by my taste. I'll be sticking to their previous recording, and am looking for a CD re-issue that I saw only once.
Danny Elfman seems to get all the attention among my peers when we discuss over-the-top soundtracks, as if he'd sprung directly from Bernard Hermann's ashes. And while John Williams' scores for Spielberg and Lucas set a new standard in the late seventies and eighties with his stirring, melodic pop orchestral scores, Alan Silvestri made what I consider to be an indelible mark in soundtrack history with his score for Back to the Future. Combining the melodic resonance of Williams with the bombast of Hermann's orchestrations, Silvestri created a score that could easily have dwarfed most movies. But through accident or design, Robert Zemeckis and Michael J. Fox (and Christopher Lloyd) had pulled out enough stops to make a film for which such a score was perfectly appropriate. Sadly, the original soundtrack album focused primarily on the 50s source music, and the tracks supplied by Huey Lewis and the News. Thankfully, more complete scores were released by Varese Sarabande for the two sequels, in which the Zemeckis/Fox/Lloyd/Silvestri combination produced similarly unique, albeit uneven, results. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, try watching one or all of these movies again. Trust me you'll notice the music this time. And if you pick a particularly music heavy scene and then watch it again with the sound turned down, you'll realize what an entirely different movie it would have been with a different score. With the sound turned down you might also wonder what the hell Michael J. Fox is all so worked up about. Oh, and sure, you could get all technical and remind me that Back to the Future and Pee Wee's Big Adventure (Elfman) came out in the same summer....
Yes, we bought this before the release of Big Night. Thank you we were ahead of the cultural curve on that one. Growing up, my only exposure to Louis Prima was as the voice of King Louie, the orangutan in Disney's animated The Jungle Book. With his unique scatting style and the character's parodic beatnik language (which itself had been co-opted from the world of black jazz), I had presumed that Prima, an Italian American icon, was in fact black. After my initial impression was corrected, I was surprised to learn that this swing standby had been penned by Prima, as had the track we danced to at our wedding, "Jump, Jive, An' Wail." We recently were at a Swing Night where the band, Lee Press-On and The Nails, played a 12 minute version of this number, at an insanely fast tempo, during which a small cadre of world class dancers spun, twirled, leaped, and tossed each other around in the center of the dance floor. Even at this tempo I'm not entirely comfortable dancing to this.
A short, sweet, and rockin' radio transcription from the summer of 1956.
I kinda wish she'd left the word "library" out of the title. But perhaps you listened to this track without looking at the title listing, in which case it may have had the desired effect. The most suggestive song I know about a building funded with taxpayer dollars. Unless anyone can suggest another track . . . ?
Sure, it's almost the same song as "Somewhere That's Green," from Little Shop of Horrors, only without the irony. Still, it's a sad reminder of the loss of lyricist Howard Ashman to an AIDS-related early death. If you aren't put off by Benson's voice, you can find in this song Ashman's gentle phrasing and remarkably unforced rhyme scheme, without which Alan Menken can no longer even seem to write a good melodic hook.
Some out there will recall not this version, but a version from The Muppet Show, featuring Scooter and Fozzie Bear.
When I first got this James Brown collection, I was disappointed to learn that I didn't enjoy listening to his music (his hits, anyway) for an hour at a stretch. So I'd not put it in the CD player for quite some time. This past year, however, as I was searching my growing electronic database of music for songs relating to feet (for a friend who was recovering from a foot injury), this track popped up. And I remembered how much I liked Brown in small doses. For example, in the middle of a collection tape.
I nearly made it through an entire side without a bluegrass song. Surprising these days. Some purists might not like this brand new release--one bluegrass dj was criticizing the use of an extra rhythm guitar--but if you're new to bluegrass, or if you're looking for bluegrass that seriously cooks, it's a good bet.
When Richard Thompson had been played for me in the past, I'd tuned out because of the complexity and dissonance of his rock and roll. Then I heard him solo acoustic on Fresh Air with Terry Gross, and my opinion changed significantly. Seeing him perform solo at a live in-store performance confirmed that all the hype and critical acclaim was more than justified. Still, even though I gained new comfort with his music, I remain less enthralled with his band tracks than with his spare or solo performances, scattered across various of albums and EPs. Here's one of his minimal pieces, which closes out his 1994 album Mirror Blue.
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