As I look at Issue 17 I can’t help but notice how the reviewers examine a wildly eclectic range of music. Without leaving their comfort zone, they consider jazz, folk, blues, bluegrass, Zydeco, Mexican, Wisconsin, Cuban, Texan, Celtic, Classical and various blends of styles. With this in mind I thank the writers for daring to go wherever the music takes them, and for sharing their passion for diverse music with us each issue.—Michael Devlin, Editor
Features:
Slipcrackers
Louise Taylor—Velvet Town
Reviews: (Click titles to jump to reviews)
Lou & Peter Berryman—Yah Hey
Bruce Cockburn
Dancing In The Dragon’s Jaws (Deluxe Edition)
Live (Deluxe Edition)
Further Adventures Of (Deluxe Edition)
The Trouble With Normal (Deluxe Edition)
In The Falling Dark (Deluxe Edition)
Inner City Front (Deluxe Edition)
Ani DiFranco—Evolve
Kathleen Edwards—Failer
Joe Ely—Streets of Sin
Nanci Griffith—Winter Marquee
John Hammond—Ready For Love
John Hasbrouck—Ice Cream
Jabe—Drama City
Michael Smith—There
Tom Pacheco—There Was a Time
Charlie Parker—Bird—Original Soundtrack
Chuck Prophet—No Other Love
The Sisters Morales—Para Gloria
Various—Going Driftless—an Artist’s Tribute to Greg Brown
Various—O Sister 2: A Woman’s Bluegrass Collection
Various—Time-Life’s Treasury Of Bluegrass
Children's
Richard Perlmutter—Beethoven’s Wig—Sing Along Symphonies
Concert Reviews:
Mary Black
Lucy Kaplansky and Richard Shindell
Reviews:
Lou & Peter Berryman—Yah Hey
2002, Cornbelt Records
This is the Berryman’s Wisconsin album revisited. Eleven of the eighteen tracks are from their 1988 cassette, Forward Hey recorded before an audience with a small brass band. The rest of the songs are from more recent albums and a few were recorded specifically for this album. All the songs deal with life in Wisconsin. This may sound like a pretty sparse reason for singing, but with Lou and Peter Berryman it doesn’t take much to start stringing witty observations and plays on words together. In case you don’t know it, the Berrymans are a national treasure. Peter plays guitar and sings in a wry voice and Lou plays accordion and sings in a whimsical voice. The differences in their voices alone can bring a smile, but their comic timing will give you at least one good laugh every song. Whether they are imitating accents, reeling off puns or narrating a mock-serious story, the Berrymans have knack for keeping you laughing song after song. Although you have to be from Wisconsin to understand all of the references, this is still lots of fun for the rest of us. —Michael Devlin
Bruce Cockburn
Dancing In The Dragon’s Jaws (Deluxe Edition)
Live (Deluxe Edition)
Further Adventures Of (Deluxe Edition)
The Trouble With Normal (Deluxe Edition)
In The Falling Dark (Deluxe Edition)
Inner City Front (Deluxe Edition)
2002, Rounder
It’s impossible to sum up Bruce Cockburn’s multiple talents in just a few sentences, and even these six reissues—which were originally released between 1976 and 1990—don’t completely reveal the full range of this artist’s awe inspiring output. But then again, re-releasing all of these albums, along with accompanying bonus cuts, is far more fulfilling than any compilation (of which he's had many) could be, and this series stacks up well next to the career retrospective capabilities of a boxed set.
The best of these new-and-improved releases is Dancing In The Dragon’s Jaws, which received nearly unanimous praise when it was first released in 1979. It is lyrically mystical (“Creation Dream”), yet also drenched in realism (“Incandescent Blue”) in many places. Cockburn’s guitar work simply explodes with inspiration, as he leans toward a jazz-rock fusion that does not short-change either side of that musical equation.
1990’s Live album additionally includes his American radio hit, “If I Had A Rocket Launcher.” It is better by far than any of Cockburn’s many “Best Of” releases. It was taken from a concert tour that found Cockburn in a folk power trio (to coin a musical phrase that may never be used again) with his regular Chapman stick player Fergus Jemison Marsh and Michael Sloski on drums. Some of these live versions of his songs are revelations, such as the new rhythms he's given to “Rumours Of Glory,” the stretched-out musical muscle of “Tibetan Side Of Town” and the propulsive momentum driving “Silver Wheels.” The album closes with a fun audience sing-along on Eric Idle’s “Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life.” Live offers definitive proof that when Cockburn is truly “on” in concert, there’s simply no one better. With all due respect to Mr. Michael Jackson, the experience is like witnessing musical moonwalking.
Inner City Front solidified Cockburn’s reputation as a political commentator, and included some of his angriest musical moments. For example, the song “Justice” includes this pointed barb. “When they say charity begins at home/ They’re not just talking about a toilet and a telephone.” Cockburn’s music has always reflected his Christian faith, but on this album, he was all about walking the walk and looking at the world with his rose colored glasses off. Nevertheless, there’s still plenty of lyrical and musical variety here. “Radio Shoes,” for example, is a memorable jazz-fusion instrumental, and “Wanna Go Walking” is about as optimistic as Cockburn gets about love and romance—especially when you lay it side-by-side next to “You Pay Your Money And You Take Your Chance.” Only a cynic like Cockburn would ever measure love in terms of dollars and cents.
The track “Civilization And Its Discontents” pretty much sums up the sentiments of The Trouble With Normal. Cockburn can be heard kicking at the darkness in the desperate hope of making it bleed daylight with “Put Our Hearts Together,” but the utter hopelessness of “Candy Man’s Gone” leaves the biggest and most lasting impression from this bitter little album. Cockburn was beginning to let his music take a long hard look at geopolitics, and he didn't like what it saw.
The title of In The Falling Dark has a mighty bleak ring to it, yet it opens with one of Cockburn’s all-time best spiritual hymns, “Lord Of The Starfields.” It's also an album where the rubber first meets the road, so to speak, with “Silver Wheels.” This album includes almost 25-minutes of extra music, which is the highest quantity of bonus material in any of these reissues. New tracks include the Christmasy “Shepherds,” and the overtly spiritual “Dweller By A Dark Stream.”
Further Adventures Of, in spite of its adventurous sounding title, is the least spark-producing album in this set. On it, Cockburn is not nearly as personal as he would later become on Humans, nor is he as pointedly political with his songs, as he would be transformed into on World Of Wonders. Lame tracks like “Laughter” should really have been left on the cutting room floor. Cockburn had not yet found any of the many more focused lyrical voices he would invoke later in his career.
Cockburn never stops growing and trying new things, which is why it’s so much fun to look back over the paths he’s already taken. It's even more fun to think about where he might go next. —Dan MacIntosh
Ani DiFranco—Evolve
2003, Righteous Babe Records
Evolve—to change gradually over time. Simile-speciation. Ani DiFranco has taken the time to become something else, again. Her journey began as a raw, propulsive, in your face, tell it like it is folk singer. Over time a band was assembled that echoed her attitude and was raw, in your face and propulsive. That grew into horns, harmonies, funk and jazz and a rich multi-layered approach. Still moving, Ani has taken Evolve as the end of and the beginning of…? Now returning to being a solo artist, Ani has crystallized and distilled the essences, rounded the edges and burnished the musical chops. Still speaking her mind clearly, articulately, controversially and funkily, Evolve is a work that celebrates the process. It is softer and less percussive but so very Ani. There are no punches held. She says things plain as day. “The mind control is steep here, man. The myopia is deep here and behold, those that try to realize democracy are shot with rubber bullets and gassed off the streets.” The music industry, Bush-amerika, the big lie and more are subject to her rapier comment. Lyrics like “a defacto choice of macro or microcosmic melancholy but baby, anyway you slice it, I’m thinking I could just as soon use the time alone” demonstrate that love issues or politics are equally succinctly expressed. Many of the cuts include her band with its Brazilian samba, 60s beat jazz, harmonious backbeat funk, smooth, jagged accompaniment. Ani’s vocals have smoothed and are controlled yet they still deliver with authoritative disdain or heartbreaking pain. Ani is still the master of skirting the issue, saying it abstrusely, clear and honest. No phony societal abstraction, “God,” republicrat democrin, conceit of love need apply for her affections. She bares the fears and the tears and reality of love. How open it can it be, so personally revealing and dangerous. How closed love is at the end. There are awakenings and cynical obfuscations and it’s all Ani as no one else. She’s just a little softer, little cooler, a little airier, a little more Evolved! —Mark Gresser
2003, Zoe/Rounder
Kathleen Edwards has been compared to Lucinda Williams, and you can sure hear a lot of that same world-weariness in her voice. But there is also an Emmylou Harris-like tenderness in places, and even a Steve Earle toughness in others. And when you add Edwards’ innate ability to write touching and memorable songs, you have a complete package. She’s a successor to the legacies left by similar artists whom have come before her, clearly more a success than a “Failer.”
Early on in the album, she sings a song called “One More Song The Radio Won’t Like.” And while radio may not know what’s good for it (has it ever?), those who appreciate a singer and a songwriter who can get straight to the heart of the matter will be in listening heaven. Failer is packed with large measures of reality (“Six O’Clock News”) and personal details, and it’s framed in an appealing country-accented folk-rock package. Edwards is as equally effective on hushed ballads like “Mercury,” as she is on rockers like “Westby.”
The best quality in Kathleen Edwards’ artistic approach is that she forces you to listen to her. Much like an encounter with a person whose penetrating eyes prevent you from avoiding their gaze, her music stops you right in your tracks. She’s right in thinking that the radio probably won’t like this music. But that’s because radio is all about pleasant and inoffensive background noise. Failer makes you stop, think and feel. You won’t soon forget it, either. —Dan MacIntosh
Joe Ely—Streets of Sin
2003, Rounder Records
There is something so familiar about this album. For sure, Ely is still energized by 2002’s successful reunion of The Flatlanders, the seminal band that brought Ely together with Butch Hancock and Jimmie Dale Gilmore for Now Again. After listening to Streets of Sin it is a surprise to find that his bandmates do not appear, although most of the backing musicians from Now Again are here with Ely. Yet there is more than the echoes of The Flatlanders album to hear. Streets of Sin channels some of the best classic roots rock. One can hear The Band and Credence Clearwater simmering with way-cool Texas rock & roll, Tex-Mex and Gospell, served up by players who know better than to overwhelm the sauce with too much spice.
The songs portray hard working people, facing life, love and nature with a simplicity that is rife with gritty spirituality. Adversity is faced with kung fu, shamanism, a homely prayer and a hard sliding guitar. There is even room for a jaunty “been touring too long” song called “95 South” with the memorable line, “The longest train I ever saw/ had the front in the summer and the back in the fall.”
This is a thoroughly satisfying listen from a master songwriter and performer at the top of his form. There is no reason that this album shouldn’t wow the same audience won by the breakout success of last years Flatlanders tour and album. Joe Ely might as well grab the back of that train and ride it into the front of next year!—Michael Devlin
Nanci Griffith—Winter Marquee
2003, Rounder
This new live collection may not mirror a typical hit-filled Nanci Griffith concert, but it nevertheless provides a unique perspective into this gentle singer-songwriter’s artistic character. From the songs she’s chosen from her own repertoire, to the ones she’s selected to cover here, all are aural elements that are dead-giveaways into what makes Nanci Griffith tick.
For example, she covers Phil Ochs’ “What’s That I Hear,” primarily because it was a song she remembers practicing when she first learned how to play guitar. And her attraction to a musician as politicized as Ochs helps explain the overt activism in Griffith’s own material. But there’s not really a whole lot of political activity going on in this particular concert album. Instead, friendship and music are by far the most covered topics here.
Sometimes favorite songs and artists become like friends, like the way the traveler is comforted in “Listen To The Radio” a song penned by Loretta Lynn and Merle Haggard. Then on “Last Train Home,” songs on the radio take the place of mileage markers. Many of these songs are also peopled by Griffith’s personal encounters over the years, as with the brief meeting with an Air Force pilot in “Flyer,” or the childhood remembrance of “There’s A Light Beyond These Woods (Mary Margaret).”
Winter Marquee makes for a warm and friendly traveling companion. —Dan MacIntosh
John Hammond—Ready For Love
2003, Back Porch/Virgin
Like the car in the opening tune, “Slick Crown Vic,” John Hammond’s new disc is an instant classic. He is in top form. Vocals are emotionally laden and honest. The band mixes East and West coasts with Marty Ballou’s bass (Duke Robillard) and David Hidalgo’s axe (Los Lobos). Rounded out with Augie Meyers keys, Frank Carillo’s additional guitar and Steve Hodges’ drumming, they create a disc filled with dark, deep atmosphere and feeling. The wheels of this aural chestnut roll through the Delta, around Nashville and on down to New Orleans. A wide range of artists contribute to the included blueness such as Willie Dixon, Hammond’s own staccato phrased work and David Hidalgo’s Chicano chicanery. Tow Waits, Jagger/Richards, George Jones and Jesse Stone all give their creations to John’s swinging interpretations and deep imprecations. The groove is Tom Waits meets the blues, weeping pedal steel and Fats Domino R&B chuggers. Sho Fine! —Mark Gresser
John Hasbrouck—Ice Cream
2002, Ruthless Rabbit
John Hasbrouck’s fingers have extra joints or he simply has a few extras. He is fluid and fluent on a variety of 6 and 12 stringed artifacts that make exceptionally beautiful music. John takes many genres of American music to heart and plays in a haunting way. Authors more widely published have likened him to Kelly Joe Phelps, John Fahey and Michael Hedges. I tend to agree. John takes blues flavor, jazz elan and sheer will to his brilliantly recorded material and makes compositions as diverse as Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” the theme song from “Casablanca,” “As Time Goes By” and public domain ballads like “John Hardy” work together. Manual dexterity outweighs his vocal abilities but these are applied only where necessary and reasonably well, so it’s OK. Besides, any artist who can segue a song from the movie “Eraserhead” and “The House of the Rising Sun” garners my respect. The aforementioned is played the way that Greg Brown might, with subvocalizations, scatting and funk galore. Certainly out on the ledge, this guy. His favorite themes revolve around despair, mayhem and disorder, all done very cheerily with finger picking and slide that are funky, bent and altogether exceptional. As with his playing, his axes are all left-handed and, it’s a well known fact that only lefties are in our right minds. So smooth and creamy with not a bone to be found, it’s “Ice Cream,” and sure is an insouciant and perkily fine listen too. —Mark Gresser
Jabe—Drama City
2003, Woodeye Records
Jabe makes 1990s roots rock that is played at frenetic speeds which, unfortunately, obscures some of his drama. Interesting use of a banjo replaces the jangly guitar frequently found in the genre. The songs move, some having a Western edge or an Irish lilt. Jabe’s songwriting has very visceral imagery. Some songs just seem to be words tacked together for effect but others really grab you. “Cold Cold Wind” is such a tune. It is a warning to you to do more since the grave waits at the end even if you didn’t have much fun. Visualize this story line from “Crazy Anne Marie.” A crazy lover with an axe and I’m tied to a chair! Acoustic re-enactments emphasize the action and a 120 beat per minute rave fuels that cheery little tale and its Black 47ish dark and jumpy style. Other songs have a Neil Young with Crazy Horse doing “Cortez the Killer” feel. Good songwriting, good musicianship and a diversity of roots rock attitudes from this new Massachusetts artist. The package includes a separate CD-ROM with videos and live MP3s. —Mark Gresser
Michael Smith—There
2002, Wind River
The first lines of the album are “If you go to Alexandria get me some hashish….” As aware as I am of the importance that Smith puts in the opening line of a song, I was disappointed to say the least. I hate to see drug use glorified in song. So guess what song gets lodged in my head for days! Listening again, trying to be objective, I discovered a feverish, exotic labyrinth of a song, perfect in every way, from the overtone guitar work, to the Middle Eastern horn, hand percussion and swirling wall of sound production. It still does not measure up to my code of ethics, but neither do I—I crank it in the car when the kids aren’t around!
For an in-depth look at Michael Smith you may want to check out the interview he did with Music Matters back in 2000. In short, his career extends from the coffee house days of Greenwich Village to writing and performing the music in The Grapes of Wrath on Broadway. As a songwriter, he is inspired by Lennon and McCartney and he has cowritten with Steve Goodman, yet in many ways his work surpasses his friends and heroes. Perhaps what sets Smith apart from other performing songwriters is that one would be hard-pressed to say that one song or album is a typical Michael Smith work. His interests are eclectic and deep. He is as likely to reveal his childhood in humorous, gentle detail, as he is to inhabit someone from a different century and culture.
Even given his propensity for variety, There is a departure from much of his other work. For one thing, this is a heavily produced album. As such, it is clearly an homage to Michael Smith’s rock and roll heroes. In these tracks you can clearly hear echoes of the Beatles, The Beach Boys and even David Bowie (although the latter two may really be further echoes of the Beatles). Typically for Smith there is great breadth and depth in the imitation, yet the material is inimitably his own. “Painted Horse,” a song that appeared in a much different form on an album he did with Anne Hills, was inspired by two Chinese poems from the sixth and ninth centuries. Here the song takes on a distinct “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” psychedelic aural atmosphere. “There” starts out with sound effects and an acoustic guitar riff that reminds me of “Blackbird” and “Dear Prudence,” lyrically referencing “Here, There and Everywhere” (and probably half a dozen other songs), all while uniquely telling his own story of home and intense love. “Kill the Buddha” is clearly a sendup of some of the nastier John Lennon cuts with its own double-edged swath. There is even a background loop that sounds like a reversed sample…hmm!
Perhaps the most telling aspect of There is that its listening experience can be compared to a new Beatles album. It was an eagerly awaited event for his fans, and a jolting departure from his previous work. It is also an album that reveals more of itself each time you play it. Would that there were enough Michael Smith fans in my acquaintence to come over to my house and spend an afternoon dissecting this album. By the way, does anyone know how to play a CD backwards?—Michael Devlin
Tom Pacheco—There Was a Time
2002, Appleseed Records
Shaded with equal parts rumination and immediacy, There Was A Time captures the multiple moods and meditations the heart, mind and soul journey through as the night closes in around a day full of living.
Produced by the Hudson Valley’s Scott Petito and accompanied by many of the region’s finest including Leslie Ritter, Jerry Marotta and Pete Seeger on banjo, Pacheco moves from “sunlight to shadow” (“Broken Piano”) to “understand why one life is enough” (“If I Could Come Back”); to mourning the passage of time before learning how valuable time truly is in “Provincetown” with the resigned “I can’t bear the thought of rain falling on your grave.”
Upon first listen, There Was A Time sounds like a dark, depressed recording. Then you catch yourself going back to contemplate how one fellow traveler has gotten through the miles, only to find yourself standing alongside singing “You’ll Never Be Afraid Again.”—Mike Jurkovic
Charlie Parker—Bird—Original Soundtrack
1988, 2002, Columbia Legacy
Matching saxophonist Charlie Parker’s amazing solos with newly recorded accompanying tracks could have easily turned into a failed musical experiment, or worse yet, an example of digital gimmickry. Instead, this soundtrack to a biopic (which was directed by Mr. Dirty Harry himself, Clint Eastwood, and starred Forest Whitaker as Parker) cleans away some of the recorded noise that mars Parker’s original playing for modern ears, and presents it in a bright and clear new context.
The fact that Eastwood is a jazz fan whom had the opportunity to witness a Parker concert in his youth, helps explain the integrity of this film/music project. Eastwood hired Lennie Neihaus as his album producer and music supervisor for the film. Neihaus not only assembled the stellar musicians that appear along with Parker on his soundtrack, but he even took great pains to teach Whitaker how to play the saxophone—which exemplifies quality control above and beyond the call of duty.
Neihaus didn’t pick the biggest jazz names in the business for this unique artistic opportunity, but Monty Alexander (piano), Ray Brown (bass) and Red Rodney (trumpet) (who had played alongside Parker), all jumped at the chance to bebop along with this jazz pioneer. It's an album that makes for a great introduction to Parker’s many musical moods, as it includes some of his best known tracks, like “Ko Ko,” “Ornithology,” “Parker’s Mood” and “April In Paris.”
This is a rare kind of recording, of an artist whom even to this day is rightfully considered to be one beautifully rare bird. —Dan MacIntosh
Chuck Prophet—No Other Love
2002, New West
During a smoky soul cookout called “Summertime Thing,” Chuck Prophet sings: “There’s a party over there, sounds like it’s cooking/ I poked my head over the wall/ Took a look in.” And that’s exactly how the listener feels after just a taste of his No Other Love album—like you want to hop the fence and join in with his musical celebration.
Prophet has been burbling underneath the surface of the music business for years now, most prominently as a guitarist in the heralded Green On Red. He sings in a voice that’s a cross between an old Stax soul veteran and more than a little Beck. But you can also hear goodly portions of Dylan, Doug Sahm and The Stones on tracks like “Elouise,” and a whole lot of ‘70s soul with tracks such as “After The Rain,” especially with its incorporation of sweetening synth strings.
The writing is also noteworthy here, whether for the storytelling of “Run Primo Run,” or the mystical nature of songs like “What Makes The Monkey Dance,” which finds Prophet sounding quite a bit like he’s singing the theme song from “The Sopranos.”
But don't let this "Sopranos" reference fool you: If Prophet is any kind of a gangster at all, he’s as harmless as a gangster of love. —Dan MacIntosh
The Sisters Morales—Para Gloria
2002, Luna Records
This is the first time that Roberta and Lisa Morales have recorded an album of songs all in Spanish, which is solely devoted to exploring their Mexican-American childhood. The disc is dedicated to their mother Gloria Morales, who provided the inspiration and also the English translations that are in the liner. These women grew up in a nurturing household and a strong community in Tucson, and whenever they return, half of the audience is old friends and family, no matter what music they are playing. Their two earlier discs were solid mixtures of rock, country, and honky-tonk, with the occasional song or two in Spanish. They now have a different band but the lead guitar duties are still handled by David Spencer. This is a well-done disc in every way though sporadically over-produced at times with a too luxuriant use of strings. The songs are the traditional folk songs of the border region and offer a good variety of tempo and pace. They have the natural harmony that only family members who grow up singing together have—that melding of voices to produce one distinctive sound. —Bob Gottlieb
Various—Going Driftless—an Artist’s Tribute to Greg Brown
2002, Red House Records
Anyone who has ever listened to Garrison Keillor’s Prairie Home Companion on public radio, is bound to know the brilliant music and writing of folk icon Greg Brown. The deep-voiced singer-songwriter has produced 21 albums dating back to 1974, yet despite a brilliant body of work spanning two decades, Brown has gone largely unheralded outside the realm of in-the-know blues and folk music aficionados.
All that may change. Going Driftless: An Artist’s Tribute to Greg Brown is a remarkable celebration of Brown’s idiosyncratic yet universal songwriting. It is on Red House Records, the label Brown founded more than a decade ago. What makes Going Driftless particularly noteworthy is that all fourteen tracks feature women artists who volunteered to celebrate the breadth and depth of Brown’s unique artistry. The songs are chosen from a range of his music, going back as far as 1981’s “Iowa Waltz" and up to the recent “Over and Under,” which came out in 2000.
Proceeds from the album (including Brown’s own songwriting royalties) all go to the Breast Cancer Fund of San Francisco, an organization that is largely dedicated to addressing environmental causes of the disease. Going Driftless features the work of some of the most respected names in women’s folk, including Mary Chapin Carpenter, Lucinda Williams, Lucy Kaplansky, Victoria Williams, Gilliam Welch and Iris DeMent. Even indie genre-defying artist Ani DiFranco lets loose with an innovative rendition of “The Poet Game,” one of Brown’s most covered dirges.
Brown’s songs have also been covered by such musical giants as Carlos Santana, Willie Nelson and Shawn Colvin. Asked to name a favorite on the new tribute album, Brown recently admitted to writer Kerry Dexter in Folkwax Magazine: “Well, I have to say “Ella Mae,” the one my daughters (Pieta and Zoe Brown) did. That was really just a real sweet thing for me, completed a lot of nice little circles. Having written that about my grandmother and then having my daughters do it, that was awfully nice.”
“There are so many great singers out there,” Brown continued. “The cause is dear to my heart, and the memory of my friend Widdie, and knowing that many other people have lost people they loved. There’s a lot of hope to it.”
This is a compilation well worth seeking out, and while not every performance here is stellar—there are some amazing covers and it is fascinating indeed to experience Brown’s quirky, imaginative songwriting interpreted by women so diverse in styles.— Ralph DiGennaro
Going Driftless: An Artist’s Tribute” is available online at www.redhouserecords.com or can be ordered by phone at 1-800-695-4687.
Various—O Sister 2: A Woman’s Bluegrass Collection
2003, Rounder
According to Ronni Lundy’s CD booklet notes here, prior to the late 1980s, one could have reasonably asked the question: “O Sister, where art thou?” But even though womenfolk were sparsely seen along the bluegrass festival circuit up until that point, women have always been instrumental in passing along these musical treasured traditions to succeeding generations. From the lullabies they sang their babies to sleep with, to the old standbys they performed before intimate family audiences around the house and garden, females nearly invisibly carried the traditional music torch forward.
This second set of feminine bluegrass is a winning collection of tracks drawn from various artists and eras. Best of all, the listener never gets the uneasy feeling that he or she is listening to a disc of music for women only. Instead, it’s a great gathering of songs, which happen to be sung and played by women.
The credits list older generation names like Wilma Lee Cooper, Hazel Dickins and Alice Gerrard. One is also treated to newer established artists, including Laurie Lewis, Rhonda Vincent and Alison Krauss. Additionally, this album includes the welcome return of Jeannie Kendall singing “I Wonder Where You Are Tonight.” (Does anybody still remember the father and daughter duo, The Kendalls?). Better still, it remains contemporary by including newer faces, such as Tanya Savory and Carol Elizabeth Jones.
With “O Sister 2,” sisters are doing it for themselves, just as they always have. —Dan MacIntosh
Various—Time-Life’s Treasury Of Bluegrass
2002, Universal/Time-Life Music
It’s hard to complain about how Time-Life has compiled some of bluegrass music’s greatest highlights on this two-disc set. It’s nearly a perfect combination of the best songs, and the best artists.
Since it would be criminal to exclude Bill Monroe from any such genre overview, he’s found here four times, including a recording of his high and lonesome “Blue Moon of Kentucky.” Other old-timers include Jimmy Martin (“You Don’t Know My Mind”), Ralph Stanley (“Little Maggie”) and The Osborne Brothers (“Rocky Top”). It’s also a true treat to hear Grandpa Jones banging away on the banjo and doing “Mountain Dew.”
This set doesn’t highlight too many of this style’s newer artists, but Alison Krauss and Union Station can be heard doing “Two Highways,” Ricky Skaggs contribution (“Uncle Pen”) comes from a 1984 release, and Larry Sparks’ “High on a Mountain” was waxed in 1989.
This album is but a few trinkets from bluegrass’ treasure chest of jewels, but it’s a fine place to introduce uninitiated fans to a style of music that should never be overlooked. —Dan MacIntosh
Children's
Richard Perlmutter—Beethoven’s Wig—Sing Along Symphonies
2002, Rounder Kids
Richard Perlmutter had the ultimate songwriter’s advantage when it came time for him to write the lyrics to Beethoven’s Wig, since each of his hook-filled melodies were already time-tested and ready to go—even before he put pen to paper. This is an album of funny lyrics, set to familiar classical music. So how can anybody go wrong with co-writers like Mozart, Tchaikovsky and Beethoven? With Beethoven’s Wig, Perlmutter is blessed with the kinds of melodic coifs that will never go out of style.
But while Perlmutter’s tunes were guaranteed hits, he was still left with the unenviable task of making these extremely old compositions relevant for young ones. He also didn't want to bring shame to this respected material. Overall, he succeeds most of the time here by mixing humor with history, for a unique and entertaining package.
[Reader's note: No scientific procedures were utilized to determine the artistic success or failure of this project. Better yet, this reviewer played it for his lab rats, er…small children].
Some of these most unscientific results included a little girl spinning around the living room to “Can You Can Can,” which is based upon Offenbach’ s “Can, Can,” and a many-giggles response to “Drip, Drip, Drip,” which is built upon “Pizzicato From Sylvia” by Delibes. The whole package is also enhanced by Maria Rosetti’s cartoon illustrations in the CD booklet, and a classical music trivia quiz that is scattered throughout its pages. The second half of this CD also contains instrumental-only performances of its various inspirations.
Beethoven’s Wig ends up sounding about as kid-friendly cool as a punk rocker’s Mohawk.—Dan MacIntosh
Concert Reviews:
Mary Black
Cerritos Center for the Performing Arts, Cerritos, CA
March 21, 2003
Unquestionably, Mary Black is a Celtic music icon. But in concert, at least, Irish music was just one of the many styles incorporated into her overall onstage repertoire. And only the most narrow-minded world music Puritans could have faulted this singer’s convincingly entertaining display of eclecticism tonight.
The sound of the music took on a mostly stripped down folk-rock feel, due primarily to the minimal quartet that ably backed Black. With only guitar, bass, drums and keyboards—and no place for fiddle, pipes or banjo—opportunities for jigs or reels were extremely limited, at best. In addition to her limited instrumentation, Black’s song selection steered wide of too much overt musical Irish-ness. She introduced the Crowded House (New Zealand) song “Fall At Your Feet” as a Tim Finn song, only to be told—via the shouted correction of an alert audience member—that it was actually written by his brother, Neil. Early in the show she sang “By The Time It Gets Dark” by Sandy Denny (English), and encored with “Forever Young” by Bob Dylan (American). This international flavor was fitting since Black, more than anything else, is an interpreter of song. She’s more about the quality of a musical selection, rather than its country of origin. Black sees few musical borders.
But her inclusions of “Song For Ireland,” “No Frontiers” and “Carolina Rua,” let it be known that Black will never ever completely abandon her musical roots. Yet it was a sound snafu, oddly enough—one that left her bass player (James Blennerhassett) temporarily unable to play—that led to this evening’s brightest moment. With just her acoustic guitarist (Bill Shanley) to her right, Black slipped into an unplanned performance of Billie Holiday’s “Don’t Explain.” And unlike Holiday’s fragile vocal tones, Black’s full-bodied voice transformed this knowing plea into a command, and showed off this stylist’s innate ability to reach deep down inside a song.
Black left it to her family—in the form of her three brothers, the Black Brothers—to give this evening’s performance the majority of its Irish content. Playing acoustic guitar, banjo and fiddle and sometimes singing acappella, this trio turned songs like “Down Our Street” into musical postcards from the homeland. They joined Black for her encores.
Since this concert coincided with America invasion of Iraq, and because Black is from such a politicized land as Ireland, tonight’s concert might have easily turned into a political affair. Instead, Mary Black sidestepped nationalism of any and all kinds, and just let the songs speak for themselves. —Dan MacIntosh
Lucy Kaplansky and Richard Shindell
April, 2003
Inter Media Art Center, Huntington, NY
A decidedly svelte Lucy Kaplansky and whiskerless Richard Shindell played to a sold out audience of nearly 600 at the Inter Media Art Center (IMAC) in Huntington, New York last night. There was, thankfully, no opener at the show, which started at 9PM, an unusually late hour for most folk concerts. Lucika took the stage first (they are apparently taking turns opening on this duo tour) and opened with some of her older tunes, including “The Tide,” which I’ve not heard her do in quite a while. After finishing the song she glibly joked to the audience that “I wrote that song a really long time ago. Things are better now.” Laughter ensued, tickling the collective funny bone of the entire theater.
Things are indeed better for the Atkins Diet-Success Story Lucika, who offered up some of her newest songs, all of which are classic Kaplansky. Richard came out and sang harmony and filled in some tasty guitar notes on a couple of songs, including “Scorpion,” another old favorite of mine. Kaplansky’s ode to the 9/11 tragedy, “This Is Home,” drew extended applause and rightly so; the Psych. PhD. turned folksinger gave a truly memorable performance of one of the better tunes written on the subject and it was clear that a good portion of the audience had never heard it. It was a very special moment of the evening. Ditto for her Joni Mitchell cover of “Willy,” which she performed on piano, an obscure song from the 1970 Reprise album, Ladies of the Canyon.
Richard followed, opening with “Beyond the Iron Gate,” a most unusual opener, in my view, for him. The talents of John Putnam on lead electric guitar and Byron Isaacs on bass added great dimension to Richard’s old songs as well as his new ones, which include “Ché Guevara T-shirt.” (kind of long and rambling), “Grey Green” (written I believe for his daughter) and “Last Fare of the Day.” This is the first time I’ve heard these new songs and I’ve yet to form an opinion of them. None match the melodic impact of much of his work, although for me, “Last Fare” mirrors the wistful narrative of “Grocer’s Broom,” a song I have always loved.
Kaplansky came out for harmonies on a couple of Richard’s tunes, including “Cold Missouri Waters,” the James Keelaghan `tune they performed so beautifully with Cry Cry Cry. High point of the evening was one of the best renditions of “Reunion Hill” I’ve yet to hear, surpassing even the memorable performance of the Bottom Line show a couple of years ago.
Richard and Lucy came back for a first two-song encore, with Lucy on lead vocals covering Buddy Mondlock’s “The Kid,” and Richard singing a heart-wrenching version of the late Dave Carter’s sad, pseudo-autobiographical dirge, “Farewell to Saint Delores. I had been hoping to hear this incredible song, one of my favorite of Dave’s, and our man in Argentina didn’t disappoint.
For their second encore, despite screams for “Are You Happy Now” (Egad!) Shindansky ended the evening with “Love Hurts” a real heartbreaker by the Brothers Bryant so wonderfully covered by Gram Parsons and Jimmy Webb to name a couple. The last time I heard these two duet on “Love Hurts” was four years ago at The Brokerage in Bellmore, New York, a 175-seat music/comedy club. But clearly, the musical careers of both Richard Shindell and Lucy Kaplansky have moved well beyond such smallish venues. Judging from the huge throng snaking its way to the merchandise tables to buy CD’s and say hello afterward despite the late hour, these are evidently two singer songwriters hitting their prime with nothing to cry cry cry about. —Ralph DiGennaro