Reggie Watts

So Maktub's Reggie Watts has a solo platter out. I haven't heard a note and I still feel safe recommending it. I need to pick that sucker up, but his site has some downloads, as well as links to full live shows at the archive, so as I write this, I am downloading said freebies to check out. You should too.

Wire - Pink Flag

Wire Pink Flag
Harvest/Polydor 1977

To all of you pop-punk kiddies, here is an album that predates your likely existence on this mortal plane, and is far more interesting than your currently en vogue manufactured rebellion icons can muster in all their MySpaced glory.

The band is Wire, the album is their debut, Pink Flag, released in 1977.

This was a band that starting from here made several albums into the the of the decade that are truly spirited and not lacking in ambition. This album is a pithy, minimalist excursion of political rants, razorwire riffage, and had glimpses of hooky melodic fragments thrown randomly into its short bursts of audio chaotic stew.

Surgeons's Girl sounds like a bunch of drunken punks singing sports cheers and the title track has a sloppy, driving guitar figure that carries the drone of the the vocals. Truth be told, the guitar sound on this album is one of the most terse of the period, with a dynamic that is both dirtier but having far better clarity in tone than a lot of their contemporaries. It is a sound you can hear mined by bands like Franz Ferdinand, Bloc Party, and Weezer, particularly when you hear the cut Strange. The organ in 106 Beats That makes for a weird Ray Manzerek meets Johnny Rotten sound mush.

There are several ditties clocking in at under a minute that are just fine on the ears, including the personally incomprehensible favorite Field Day for the Sundays, and the fuzzy sludge of Brazil. Actually, almots all the traks (20+) come in at under 3 minutes, and many under 2. Get in, slur what you gotta say at high volume, and get out.

A Logical Development

It is about time. Time for a new full length album by the inimitable DJ Logic (his first in 4 years).

You should also as a rule, check out his label, Ropeadope.

Incognito

Incognito Eleven
Narada records 2006

Bluey Maunick still has some music in him. Incognito return to a more grounded earthy smooth funk and soul vibe with their latest, Eleven. After a couple of albums where they seemed unsure as to fall fully into smooth jazz limbo or gloss over their sound with mediocre electronica, they seem to have over the last release and this one, of going back to the 70s informed sound that made them a pop-soul/acid-jazz powerhouse . Their pop sense still has a slightly cheesy streak, similar to the more obtuse disco elements of Jamiroquai, as it does on It's Just One of Those Things. The same could be said for the ripped straight from the Chic playbook cut Come Away With Me. But it is also almost shamefully (like Chic and Jamiroquai) hook-laden and catchy.

When Tomorrow Brings You Down is a slack groove for lazy afternoon with heavy soul easy-going aftertastes, as are the bulk of the other songs. Of note, this return is fueled in large part by a tight rhythm section. The past few albums had the drums and bass obfuscated or replaced en toto often by programming, and here the use is minimal. Otherwise, when overused, results in throwaway tracks such as We Got Music.

Eleven has (name) playing with a compact, punchy sound that provides an anchorpoint for the rest of the instrumentation to layer over. This is best heard on the largely instrumental Let the Mystery Be and Jacaranda, both clocking at over 6 minutes each. As with most Incognito cuts, even the lesser songs are ripe for improvement or radical reinterpretation via remixes (I can almost guarentee Show Me Love will get this treatment, as its vocal lines and house-friendly structure just scream for Miguel Migs, Aquanote or Masters At Work to give it the once-over).

Of special note is that Bluey has not only kept Maysa as lead singer (her voice being most associated with the group), but also picked up the much underrated Carleen Anderson (Young Disciples, Brand New Heavies, Bryan Ferry), which gives a fiery counterpoint to Maysa's honeyed vocals.

Vernon Reid Interview

This is a pretty good interview with the always interesting Mr. Reid. There seems to be a lot of LC related activity, but not a lot of actual LC activity. Hopefully this will change.

Aesop Rock - Bazooka Tooth

Aesop Rock
Bazooka Tooth
Definitive Jux 2004

I finally listened to Aesop Rock's Bazooka Tooth in its entirety and while AR is impressive, I still find him a little bit short compared to precision word payload delivery technicians like Beans and as an overall sound statement, lacks the kind of seamless funkussive brilliance that Omega Watts's debut hit me with. Maybe it's the voice so nasal at times, it makes you think his lips are attached to his nostrils, or that he has cement mucus slabs impeding his sinuses. There are some exceptional standouts however, most notably 11:35 (with the unflappable Mr. Lif), Freeze and the El-P toe-to-toe We're Famous, which has a determined guiding track and sharp verbal flows.

Nicklebag double shot

Nicklebag 12 Hits & a Bump 1996 Mas Feedback 1997
Iguana Records

Quite a few years back I had heard a band called Nicklebag were opening for the then just going bigtime Deftones, and had heard it was a vehicle for Bernard Fowler (Tack>>Head, Rolling Stones) and Steve Salas (Decoding Society, Bootsy Collins). I never got to that show, but I did pick up both albums they released in the late 90s that were shamefully overlooked in the States.

Basically what you have here are two well connected session men who bring a bunch of their friends together, like:

Dave Abberuzze (Pearl Jam)
Doug Wimbish (Living Colour, Tack>>Head)
Bernie Worrell (Parliament-Funkadelic, various Les Claypool and Buckethead projects)
Bill Laswell (Herbie Hancock, Mick Jagger, and more dub and avant-tronica remix projects than you can poke with 2 sticks)
Ron Wood (Rolling Stones)
Carmine Rojas (David Bowie, Rod Stewart)
Darryl Jones (Sting, Miles Davis)
Jeff Bova (Iggy Pop, Wayne Shorter)
Brian Tichy (Derek Sherinian, Gilbey Clarke)

...etc. and jam on a bunch of covers and originals until you have enough jams to compile an album. Or in this case, two.

Now, such a random assortment could make for a big musical mess, or get overambitious and try to be overly arty, but this is not the case. This is big, muscular, funk informed riff rock done with conviction and a decided lack of restraint. It is about letting loose and having a really good time rocking out in a headspace somewhere between Led Zeppelin's In Through The Out Door and Parliament-Funkadelic circa Maggot Brain, with some Soundgarden and Tin Machine thrown in for fun.

Salas is just as capable a shredder as those in the Satriani/Vai camp, but has generally eschewed pure fretboard pyro for massive slabs of bloozy groove riffing. Fowler has a booming growl but can meld into any number of other styles at will (which was pretty much a requirement for his tenure in Tack>>Head) and can show great restraint when the song requires it. The various backing band configurations do not sound disjointed, with Laswell helpingthe overall production quality to stay copnsistent and the albums to flow from track to track.

Their originals are very derivative of their influences, which besides the aforementioned, is laden with Jeff Beckishness and Jimi Hendrixisms, and a lot of the same territory of various BRC bands from the last 2 decades. Some of the most fun cuts are the covers, which include Bowie, Stevie Wonder, Zeppelin, Garbage, and a stomping rendition of Funkadelic's Hit It and Quit It.

This is not pioneering stuff, but is fully enjoyable for those that enjoy anything from Lenny Kravitz and early period Stones to Follow For Now and Velvet Revolver.

R.I.P June Pointer

June Pointer has passed away. Rest in Peace.

I have to admit I actually like a few songs from their peak era, but they were usually those with lead vocals by Ruth Pointer, like Automatic, which is still a pretty good slice of mid 80s funk-pop.

That being said, the Sisters did make a good case for mixing various stylistic threads together in a pop format, including R&B, Cabaret, Blues and even a little Country. They have long been out of the spotlight and suffered any number of setbacks and public gaffes (including June's own fight with crack addiction) but they had a good few years in the sun.

Prince - 3121

Prince
3121
2006 NPG/Universal

I was looking forward to what Prince would follow up the successful return to a form closer to what should be expected of him. And while there are some juicy cuts to be had, it would seem he has stalled at where Musicology left off, and certainly lacks compared to his 85-92 material.

It opens with an old skool NPG style loping funk excursion, complete with assertive Michael Bland 4/4 drumming, multitracked vocals, and bursts of support from the brass line. From there, it suffers the same inconsistency that Musicology did. Tracks like the lead off single Te Amo Corazon and Fury seem to be catering to the middle of the road AC/MOR radio set; people who don't realize such tracks are neither edgy or nostalgic. The album, like Musicology, is recorded with a somewhat obfuscating concentration in the midrange, that while performed with precision and swagger, often seems to lack the convincing sass.

The religious overtones (Prince is a Jehovah Witness) are better integrated than they were on say, Rainbow Children, and Beautiful, Loved and Blessed should probably win a Dove Award, but it also comes off as more mechanical calculation than natural conviction.

The James Brown-esque electro-acoustic funk of Get On The Boat, Isley style R&B of Incense And Candles are highlights, but there is one track here that actually is worth the price of the whole album: Black Sweat. A sordid, slinky, dirty piece of funk that is a perfect marriage of Erotic City and Kiss. Absolute, guaranteed, 100% perfect audio confection.

If his Purpleness could get his head in check, he would be smart and fully assemble a Wendy & Lisa led backing band (as he did for this years Brits, which also scored Sheila E.). He desperately needs band contributors that can give him arranging and compositional skills to balance Prince's limits and indulgences. I am by no means asking him to fully go retro, but to work with collaborators that reinforce his strengths and help cut out the fluff. Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman did that. I am under the impression Levi Searcer did as well.

Truth be told Mr. Nelson, here is my suggestion for a new band:

Wendy Melvoin, Lisa Coleman, Genji Sirasi, Me'Shell Ndegeocello, Itaal Shuur or Amp Fiddler, Sheila E. Professionals who know how to meld with the music and have flexible musical personas to accomodate all of Prince's many moods.

This album is good by anyone else's standard, but as Prince material, goes, it is far from A-game.

On the Wire

On the Wire is the latest audioblog of note I have found.

That is all. Carry on.

Courtney Pine - Underground

Courtney Pine Underground
1997 Antilles

Antilles just has a great history of underappreciated acts: Dizrhythmia, Anthony Cox, etc. Add Courtney Pine to the list. The sax player has been a U.K. secret bigger than life, and has pretty much been confounding critics and listeners for some time. A player with broad interests musically, he also has an ample arsenal of chops across the sax family as well as reeds and keyboards, which he uses to ample effect on Underground.

There have been jazz and electronica/hip-hop hybrids going on since the late 80s. Many have been forgettable (the waste of Branford Marsalis's talent on the two Buckshot LeFonque releases comes to mind, as well as the style boner 3-D Lifestyles by Greg Osby)*, half-baked (the final studio release by Miles Davis), and a few that skirt brilliance (work by Erik Truffaz, Tim Hagans, Herbie Hancock, and various acts on the Acid-Jazz, Talkin' Loud and Giant Step labels).

This album is none of those. Not quite brilliant, it is nowhere near the lame portion of the range. If anything, Pine gets the formula right; lean on the jazz, and use the electronica as a way to expand form and texture, rather than to just straightjacket improvisational tendencies into a narrow sonic tunnel with some scratching and a breakbeat. Where he falters is that the mix of the two worlds is not fully developed and still feels a little too segregated in spots, usually on the instrumental tracks. This may be since none of the players save DJ Pogo have any real presence outside of the post-bop canon: Cyrus Chestnut, Reginald Veal and Jeff "Tain" Watts. Of course, this is not a bad thing, since this leans on the side where these men shine, especially Watts, who never fails at any gig. This is largely a jazz album, with undercurrents of turntablism. And that is ok.

And with that, Mr. Pine. He plays the hell out of everything. Soprano can get too close to the smooth jazz style that makes me sad at times, but he generally avoids that, and he goes the extra mile on tenor. The bonus for me is the bass clarinet, which always wirks, and which he uses in a few places here. Bass clarinet is like Fender Rhodes...even when it's lousy it's still good. So forgiving, and always so tonally beautiful. There is some Rhodes on this album as well, so yes, there is another tick in the plus column.

So basically, if you are someone who wants a light touch of turntable science with your shuffle beat, this is a good place to start.

P.S. The two vocal tracks (sung by the inimitable and beautiful honey-toned voice of Jhelisa) have a breezy, almost lounge feel, with loping piano vamps and meandering soprano sax lines. I recommend looking into her two solo albums, Galactica Rush and Language Electric, if you can find them.

* It is thankfully, the only bad album in Osby's catalog, which I otherwise endorse with vigor.

A CD no one should buy

So there is a singer who goes by the single name Juliet, who has a debut album, Random Order.

It does not sound bad really, but the only reason I picked it up was the sole track produced by Guy Sigsworth of Frou Frou (which is the best track on the album).

That being said, the idiotic disc is one of those poopware laden secured discs that make just simply playing them a laborious pain, all because the RIAA can't get over its irrational fear that someone, somewhere, might rip it to mp3 (at which point they even more irrationally assume that anyone doing so must be intending to upload it, which is frankly, stupid)...or ogg vorbis like I did, using GRIP on Linux.

Content protection is a euphemism for business model impotence.

I do not upload copyright cntrolled media to p2p networks, but i do like to create playlists for myself, to stuff onto my iPod shuffle or laptop while I commute on the train. I do not want, nor do I feel that as a consumer who shells out the cash for these products, to be overly encumbered in their use because some 3rd party is stacked to the gills with employees who are utter poltroons and wishes to assume all customers are criminals.

Why so go-go for Mylo?

So I kept hearing about the wonder of Mylo and finally got around to listening to his Destroy Rock and Roll disc. While completely listenable and full-on ear candy, I do not understand what the fuss is; he's a crossbreed of Chicane and Richard X. Hardly revelatory.

Nicolas Payton - Sonic Trance

Nicolas Payton Sonic Trance
2005 Warner Bros.

This was a bit of a departure for Mr. Payton, who is more often associated with the Young Lion camp of reactionary Wyntonian design. But he gets a solid cast, including Kevin Hays (Tim Hagans), Dan Sadownick (Screaming Headless Torsos), and Adonis Rose (Donald Harrison), to build a blemished, but otherwise bankable release mining the early 70s era of fusion and soul.

The opener sets a very relaxed vibe that could easily function as a backing track to an Erykah Badu song, as many of the tracks do but there is more to this disc than simple instrumental takes on the latest neo-soul variations. Fela 1 has a delicate taste of early electric Miles, but plays it a little too smoothly, as does the sparse and nocturnal Velvet Handcuffs, which sports a staccato trumpet pulse Seance on the other hand, gets closer to having a grit to it, with clusters of trumpet and a wobbly rhythm that staggers like a drunk in all the right spots.

There are also some comical segues and more jovial material, as the Shabba Unranked, which has Payton spoofing the verbal slur of the dancehall caricature behind a busy, goofy backing track or Two Mexicans on the Wall, which sounds like a tweaked piece of music for a Robert Rodriguez film involving Antonio Banderas.

There is spacey, open excursions, as Toys in Babeland takes cues at times from Sextant-era Hancock, and more boppish runs, as on Blu Hays. The album is not a strict formula, and that works to its benefit.

This is a good release for Payton, who I have generally liked, but never had a really strong lean for, since many of his earlier albums tended to sound too informed by the straightjacketed school of Stanley "The Grouch" Crouch and his fetish, Wynton Marsalis; good listening, but rarely moving beyond the very safe confines of the Young Lions approach. But this album, and his recent tenure with Greg Osby has shown an expanded palette and more open approach to playing, so he definititely is moving on up.

Daily Video Feature 4: Curve - Horror Head

Very much a video of the period, but Toni Halliday continued to be a more elegant goth icon than essentially all of her contemporaries, and you actually get to see Dean Garcia force his bass into submission: