Samstag, 28. Juni 2014

Woody Guthrie - The Legendary Woody Guthrie

Originally posted in July, 2012:


Woody Guthrie was born on July 14th, 1912 in Okemah, Oklahoma. So we can celebrate his 100th birthday next saturday. And we will post some of his wonderful songs during this week.

Woody Guthrie was the most important American folk music artist of the first half of the 20th century, in part because he turned out to be such a major influence on the popular music of the second half of the 20th century, a period when he himself was largely inactive. His greatest significance lies in his songwriting, beginning with the standard "This Land Is Your Land" and including such much-covered works as "Deportee," "Do Re Mi," "Grand Coulee Dam," "Hard, Ain't It Hard," "Hard Travelin'," "I Ain't Got No Home," "1913 Massacre," "Oklahoma Hills," "Pastures of Plenty," "Philadelphia Lawyer," "Pretty Boy Floyd," "Ramblin' Round," "So Long It's Been Good to Know Yuh," "Talking Dust Bowl," and "Vigilante Man." These and other songs have been performed and recorded by a wide range of artists, including a who's who of folksingers.
Most of those performances and recordings came after Guthrie's enforced retirement due to illness in the early '50s. During his heyday, in the 1940s, he was a major-label recording artist, a published author, and a nationally broadcast radio personality. But the impression this creates, that he was a multi-media star, is belied by his personality and his politics. Restlessly creative and prolific, he wrote, drew, sang, and played constantly, but his restlessness also expressed itself in a disinclination to stick consistently to any one endeavor, particularly if it involved a conventional, cooperative approach. Nor did he care to stay in any one place for long. This idiosyncratic individualism was complemented by his rigorously left-wing political views. During his life, much attention was given in the U.S. to whether people of a liberal bent were or had ever been members of the Communist party. No reliable evidence has emerged that Guthrie was, but there is little doubt where his sympathies lay; for many years, he wrote a column published in Communist newspapers.

Ironically, as Guthrie's health declined to the point of permanent hospitalization in the '50s, his career took off through his songs and his example, which served as inspiration for the folk revival in general and, in the early '60s, Bob Dylan in particular. By the mid-'60s, Guthrie's songs were appearing on dozens of records, his own recordings were being reissued and, in some cases, released for the first time, and his prolific writings were being edited into books. This career resurgence was in no way slowed by his death in 1967; on the contrary, it continued for decades afterward, as new books were published and the Guthrie estate invited such artists as Billy Bragg and Wilco in to write music for Guthrie's large collection of unpublished lyrics, creating new songs to record.


1. What Did The Deep Sea Say - Guthrie, Woody & Cisco Houston
2. Oregon Trial
3. Car Song
4. We Shall Be Free - Guthrie, Woody & Leadbelly/Sonny Terry/Cisco Houston
5. Danville Girl
6. Struggle Blues
7. John Henry - Guthrie, Woody & Cisco Houston
8. Chisholm Trail - Guthrie, Woody & Cisco Houston
9. Ludlowe Massacre
10.: Nine Hundred Miles
11. Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor
12. Buffalo Skinner's
13. Ramblin' Round
14. Rising Sun Blues (house of the rising sun)
15. Lindbergh
16. Vigilante Man
17. Two Good Men
18. Red River Valley - Guthrie, Woody & Cisco Houston
19. Ranger's Command
20. Farmer Labour Train
21. Sinking Of The Rueben James
22. Hard Ain't It Hard

Sonntag, 22. Juni 2014

VA -Tiger Goes Calypso (Esso, 1966)

This is a fine LP from 1966 put out by Esso gas for promotional work. It is a collection of Calypso, Reggae, and Ska songs. Two of the tracks have to do with Esso gas. A rare little promo item with pretty good songs. It features Young Killer with "Tiger in your tank" and some big names of the calypso scene, like Mighty Sparrow and The Merrymen. Enjoy it!

1 Young Killer - Tiger in your tank
2 Carlos Malcolm Orchestra - Tribute to Don Drummond
3 The Merrymen - Never on a sunday
4 Westside Symphony Orchestra - Jamaica ska
5 Clarence Curvan Orchestra - Mama dis is mas
6 The Mighty Sparrow - She's been gone too long
7 André Tanker Flamingoes - Linstead market
8 The Mighty Dougla - Leave me

VA - Tiger Goes Calypso (1966)
(192 kbps, back & front cover included)

Samstag, 21. Juni 2014

The Best Of Chess Rock´n´Roll (1989)

"The Best of Chess Rock & Roll" gives a good portrait of the seminal record label's massive contributions to rock & roll.

Not only are landmarks like Chuck Berry's "Johnny B. Goode" and Bo Diddley's "Bo Diddley" covered, but cult favorites like the Moonglows and the Students are also featured. With "Johnny B. Goode," "Maybelline," "Who Do You Love," "Ain't Got No Home," "Rocket 88," and "Susie Q", it is one of the most essential single-disc rock collections ever assembled.
The Best Of Chess Rock´n´Roll (1989)

(192 kbps, full cover art included)

Mittwoch, 18. Juni 2014

Bessie Smith - Empress Of The Blues 1923 - 1933

Bessie Smith (April 15, 1894 – September 26, 1937) was an American blues singer.
Nicknamed The Empress of the Blues, Smith was the most popular female blues singer of the 1920s and 1930s. She is often regarded as one of the greatest singers of her era and, along with Louis Armstrong, a major influence on other jazz vocalists.

"Empress of the Blues: 1923-1933" is a respectable, budget-priced collection of Bessie Smith's best material from her most potent period. It contains 21 tracks of piano-based blues from an era when the music was just coming out of brothels and saloons and on to the American (and European) stages. Notable tracks on this set include "Tain't Nobody's Business If I Do" and  "St. Louis Blues".

Bessie Smith - Empress Of The Blues 1923 - 1933
(256 kbps, front cover included)


Billie Holiday - Songs For Distingué Lovers (1957)

"Songs for Distingué Lovers" forms part of the last series of extensive small-group recordings that Lady Day would make in the studio.

Although her voice was largely shot at this point, she puts so much feeling into the lyrics that it's easy to overlook her dark sound. The band is a major asset, and made up of all-stars: trumpeter Harry "Sweets" Edison, tenor saxophonist Ben Webster, pianist Jimmie Rowles, guitarist Barney Kessel, bassist Red Mitchell, and Alvin Stoller or Larry Bunker on drums.

There are plenty of short solos for Edison, Webster, and Kessel. Holiday does her best on such numbers as "A Foggy Day," "One for My Baby," "Just One of Those Things," and "I Didn't Know What Time It Was," and there are plenty of haunting moments, even if one could tell (even at the time) that the end was probably drawing near for the singer.

A1 Day In, Day Out
A2 A Foggy Day
A3 Stars Fell On Alabama
B1 One For My Baby (And One More For The Road)
B2 Just One Of Those Things
B3 I Didn't Know What Time It Was

Billie Holiday - Songs For Distingué Lovers (1957)
(320 kbps, cover art included)

Montag, 16. Juni 2014

Chicago - The Blues - Today! Vol. 2


Otis Rush, Jimmy Cotton, and Homesick James Williamson are all from Mississippi, and each of them has found a place for himself in Chicago through his music, if you’re good, with a style of your own, there’s a Chicago blues business waiting to pick you up. Otis Rush is one of the best of the young Chicago bluesmen. He works steadily, seven nights a week at a lounge on the West Side. At the club, Curley’s, there isn’t much of a crowd on week nights; so he lets somebody from the neighborhood work the first set and he sits at a side table with two or three friends. It’s dark in the club and the band works on a high bandstand under dim red fluorescent lights. The crowd at Curley’s is younger, and they’ve been away from the blues for a while; so Otis can reach out into the area where the blues and jazz intermingle. “I was born in Philadelphia, Mississippi, but I left when I was fifteen...” He plays left-handed, looking down at his fingers on a solo. “It was the winter when I first came up and it was cold, but I had a sister living here; so I stayed with her.” He’s only 31 and he looks younger. “As a kid I just liked the looks of the guitar, but I didn’t play. I started after I got up here and got a little older and heard Muddy and Buddy Guy and T-Bone Walker...” Otis has always been an exciting singer, and he has matured into a brilliant, inventive guitar player. The rest of the band is even younger, and they move from the blues of Otis’ “I Can’t Quit You Baby” to the hard edged blues-jazz of “Rock” with an easy familiarity—except for the alto man, “Sax” Crowder, a thin, quiet musician from the 1939 Earl Hines Band. His jazz has always been the blues, and his blues style has always been jazz. This is the new, young, “tough,” Chicago blues—”tough” the South Side term for the newest, the most exciting.

With Jimmy Cotton the sound is closer to the country style. He’s been Muddy Waters harp man since 1957, and Muddy doesn’t stray far from the first band sound he developed in the mid-1940’s. At Pepper’s Lounge, where the band usually works when it’s in town, you can get down close to the bandstand and hear Jimmy sing. Muddy usually sits at one of the tables and lets Jimmy or Otis Spann do most of the playing. The Chicago harmonica—”harp”—style is one of the distinctive sounds of the Chicago blues, the instrument played differently than it was in the South. Jimmy, like Junior Wells and Little Walter Jacobs and Big Walter Horton, holds it against a cheap amplifier mike, cupping both the microphone and the harp in his hands. He’s in his early 30’s, and despite ten or so years away from the South there’s still some of the easy country enthusiasm in his exuberant singing—and even some of the country concerns in his blues about the outskirts of Helena, Arkansas, about bad cotton crops, and about new cars and ungrateful women.
Homesick James has been up from Mississippi longer, since 1947, but he has as much of the down home sound as Jimmy. His style comes partly from his cousin, Elmore James—Homesick worked with him on and off before Elmore’s death in the mid 1950’s—and partly from his own country background. The sound is as distinctive to Chicago as Jimmy’s harp. It’s the electrified “slide” style that Muddy and Elmore developed out of the Mississippi “bottleneck” playing. You put a metal bearing ring or a piece of metal pipe on the little finger of your left hand and you can work the strings to get almost any kind of sound. Homesick works at most of the South Side clubs, but he’s had a steady factory job ever since he got to Chicago; so he usually plays only on Friday and Saturday in one of the small clubs. The sound of the blues has changed on the South Side, but there’s still some of the sound of Mississippi music around the corner in a neighborhood bar, or in a lounge near the El tracks—the loneliness and the insecurity of the country music intensified, driven into a new creative excitement, in the slums of the northern city.

Chicago - The Blues - Today! Vol. 2
(192 kbps, ca. 62 MB)

Notes from the original release of "Chicago/The Blues/Today Vol. 2":

“Sweet Home Chicago”...up from Meridian, Mississippi, up from Tuscaloosa, Alabama, from Jackson, from Selma, Memphis, Helena, Brownsville, Bessemer, a rooming house on S. Indiana, to a run down hotel on West Roosevelt, to a folding bed in a sister’s apartment on S. Lake Park. If you’re colored it’s better in Chicago than it is in Mississippi—unless you’re aggressive or talented or lucky not much better, but enough so that you get on the Greyhound bus in Jackson or Tupelo with some food in a shoe box and your clothes in a paper suitcase, or you sit up for a gritty night in a railroad coach, or you get a ride with somebody who’s got a battered car. Jobs? There aren’t many, and what there are don’t offer much more than you could have gotten back in the South. Someplace to stay? The rooms are small and dirty and you live poor and cramped until you can get a steady job and move into something better.

Sometimes—if you’ve come up from a cotton farm, or from a slow back country town—everything seems changed. the buildings along Indiana or Prairie in the south ‘30s, or on the streets going east to the lake, have a heavy, imposing look—stone and brick, with names carved into the top stone arch, “Doris,” “Paloma,” “Linda,” “Windermere,” but the stones are black with soot and the names are grimy and weathered. In the entrance hallways a broken light bulb dangles from the ceiling, and the names are scrawled on the walls beside the battered mail boxes. Beside most of the names a note like, “Third floor rear ring 2 times.” There isn’t enough money to rent a whole apartment; so a five room apartment becomes four rooms for four families with a kitchen for everybody to share. Along the inside hallways the doors have been wearily dragged shut with wires and hooks and cheap padlocks, but on most of them are old scratches and broken hasps, the marks of thieves who hang around in the dark hallways and back entrances of the buildings. But some things haven’t changed as much. Climbing up the stairs to somebody’s apartment you can hear the voices from the rooms around you. Children crying, women calling to each other, somebody singing, an abrupt argument... and you can hear music. Somebody’s always playing a radio or a phonograph and most of the time the music has the raw, insistent sound of the Chicago blues.

The blues is still the same emotional expression that it is in Mississippi, but in Chicago, like a lot of other things, the blues has changed. It isn’t only that the sound is different, that the clubs have to have three or four piece bands instead of one or two men with guitars, that the instruments have all been electrified to be heard over the noise of the crowded barrooms where the men work. The old style was less determined, less relentless, it was concerned with country towns and country roads and country cabins. It was “country” blues. If you grew up out along one of the rivers of the delta, or back on a one lane dirt road, there was a least the sun and the afternoon wind and the streams to fish in and the fall mornings when you could hunt in overgrown fields; so the music was gentler, sometimes almost warm and easy in its worries with love and loneliness. But there isn’t much sun in the South Side streets, and the apartment houses are overcrowded, and the winters are bitter and the spring comes late; so the music is harder, with some of the city’s mean ferocity.

Chicago - The Blues - Today! Vol. 1

In 1966, when the recordings in this set first came out, blues wasn’t quite as well understood or appreciated outside the black community as it is today. In fact, it’s safe to say that these recordings opened the door wide and helped change American music forever.

Although some jazz fans had been hip to blues since the first 78rpm records started coming out in the 1920s, all but a few of them saw the music as a sort of degenerate cousin of jazz, which was, to them, more important musically. Of course, any jazz musician with a brain would have told you that blues is one of the most important components of jazz, but that wasn’t understood by white fans at that point.

Then along came the folk revival, first in the late 1940s and early 1950s, and then the second one in the early 1960s. The first folk revival had some blues in it, especially from Lead Belly, who had been introduced to folk circles by John and Alan Lomax, and from Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, who had taken their East Coast blues to New York and were doing well in show business circles. Later, Big Bill Broonzy showed up and was fond of telling credulous young white folks how lucky they were to have met him, since he was the last living Bluesman. Josh White, too, was on the scene, although he had severely diluted the power of his early recordings and was now a fairly bland folk singer. The interest in these few bluesmen caused a resurgence in interest in the country blues performers, and record collectors began to seek out long-forgotten recordings, which they began to reissue on lps.

Seeking out these recordings drew collectors to the South, where they encountered a whole different way of life in black communities and, eventually, began to suspect that some of the men who’d made these recordings were still around. As the subsequent rediscovery of Mississippi John Hurt, Bukka White, Son House, and Skip James, among others, proved, they were right. But what they didn’t do was consider that the country blues had grown, migrated to the cities, mutated, and flourished there. Because a large number of them were cultural snobs, they never bothered to look at the big picture, pieces of which were right underneath their noses. Chuck Berry, for instance, was considered a pompadour-wearing, teen culture-exploiting, showboating rock and roller. They not only didn’t flip his records over to find things like “Deep Deep Feeling” and his other blues recordings, they never listened to the A-sides. They ignored radio blues hits like Buster Brown’s 1960 “Fannie Mae” and Tommy Tucker’s 1964 “High Heel Sneakers,” because they were too pure to listen to the radio. What little they did know about contemporary blues they sought to re-shape into their own image: contemporary bluesmen did appear at the Newport Folk Festival, but only under compromised circumstances. There’s the famous story about Lightnin’ Hopkins arriving in a limousine wearing a sharkskin suit and changing into dungarees, saying “Gotta give the people what they want.” And when Muddy Waters, one of the greatest electric guitarists of all time, played Newport, he had to play acoustic guitar.What was really weird was that things were completely different in Europe. In England, Alexis Korner was a huge fan of these people’s work, and tried to play it in his act, while arranging for visits by the likes of Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf, which subsequently gave birth to European tours by the American Folk Blues Festival, which combined old-time country and contemporary electric blues artists into one package. Korner also encouraged younger British players’ interest in the music, famously introducing Mick Jagger and Keith Richards to Brian Jones and starting the Rolling Stones in the process. The Stones then turned around and recorded songs by these bluesmen and slapped them onto the albums which had their hits on them. Eventually, Americans caught on. They had help from their countrymen, too: in Chicago, where it was impossible to ignore the blues scene, since it was on the radio, on posters tacked to telephone poles, and all over the black clubs, fans like Michael Bloomfield, Paul Butterfield, Nick Gravenites, Elvin Bishop, and Norman Dayron sought out the music and eventually wound up playing it as peers with the full support of the blues community there. Most of them coalesced into the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, which was the even more authentic version of such British outfits as Korner’s Blues Incorporated and John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers. The Butterfield Band’s appearance at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival blew everything apart. They were white blues revivalists like Dave Van Ronk or John Hammond, Jr., but they had a rhythm section, Jerome Arnold and Sam Lay, who were veterans of Howlin’ Wolf’s band and didn’t see any contradiction between playing with Butterfield’s boys or their former employer, although, if the truth be known, what with Butterfield’s new Elektra Records contract, the pay was better. (The band then further confused the hard-core inflexible folkies by backing up Bob Dylan later in the day for his first-ever electric appearance.)

Before long, people were wondering what they’d missed. And they had missed something: by the time the impetus started by the Stones and Butterfield got things rolling, the heyday of Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Sonny Boy Williamson in Chicago was behind them. Other great performers, most notably Elmore James and Little Walter, were dead. A new generation, just as was happening in rock and roll, was taking the stage in Chicago, and the blues was entering another era.
Enter Sam Charters. Now, here was a name that was hardly unknown to the knowledgeable folkie. Charters knew blues, and had done numerous reissues of 78s on lp which formed the backbone of many blues fans’ libraries, the songs themselves entering performers’ repertoires. In fact, Charters knew blues well enough to know that it was still a living, breathing, changing art-form. Like a very few other scholars, most notably Charles Keil, whose book Urban Blues, published in 1966, was researched at just the right time, he was right there with an open mind. He was in the clubs. He talked to the musicians. He kept track of the changes. Now, at the time these recordings were first issued, Vanguard Records was one of the preeminent folk labels in the country, but it, too, wasn’t overly rigid. Unlike some, it was ready to accept “commercial” folk music, and, as a result, actually placed some stuff on the pop charts. Further, it was documenting the Newport Folk Festival, and had a sense of what was in the air. So when the idea of recording actual, contemporary, not to mention popular blues music came to them from a respected personage like Charters, they gave him the green light.

It was a canny move: if this project succeeded, they could sign some of the artists to contracts and have a jump-start on the rest of the mainstream music industry. Some of the younger blues artists were having trouble finding record labels at that point, and in fact Vanguard’s strategy paid off with the signing of Junior Wells and Buddy Guy, two of the biggest stars on the scene, as well as Charlie Musselwhite, who was a sideman on one of the tracks here. But that came later. First came the three lps which form this set, and they were a risk. Virtually nobody outside of Chicago had ever heard of these people with the possible exception of former Muddy Waters pianist Otis Spann, who had a reputation with jazz fans. The music would have to speak for itself. It did: Chicago/The Blues/Today! sent shockwaves through the young audience which was discovering the blues through the evangelism of the British performers. It was the third part of the title—Today!—which grabbed your attention, along with the grim picture of the train-tracks and tenements on the cover. In compiling this set, Charters had even trumped the Brits, going straight to the source and nailing it. It came at just the right time: soul music was sapping the popularity of blues at its base, and younger black listeners were turning off of it, the heavily soul-inflected work of Buddy Guy and Junior Wells notwithstanding. Suddenly these performers were in greater demand than ever before both at home and abroad, and they were flabbergasted at the response they got from an audience they’d never even known was interested.

The aftermath of Chicago/The Blues/Today! was astonishing. Journalists and scholars went to Chicago to check out the scene, many of them clutching Keil’s book, with its detailed map of clubs. Agents, at first timidly, then with mounting enthusiasm, booked the performers who were willing to leave Chicago into folk festivals, rock festivals, and, finally, blues festivals, where they could spread the news that the blues was alive and well. Some of these people toured the world, while others graciously played host to international visitors in Chicago. Virtually all of these artists got recording deals with labels which treated them better than they’d ever been treated, and saw their albums sell in quantities they’d never anticipated. It also served notice to the world that not only was the blues alive and vital, but that the older guys were still around, and made it possible for Muddy Waters to form his last great young band with black and white players, grab a major-label deal, and buy a home in Woodstock, New York. It caused young lawyers to help Willie Dixon regain control of his songs, and, even more importantly, the royalties they brought him. It took youngsters like Otis Rush and Magic Sam onto the stages of blues festivals where they played to tens of thousands of fans who applauded them riotously. And, at long last, it established contemporary blues, not as some degenerate offshoot or sub-section of another music, but as a vital part of the American cultural landscape. The music on these discs is no longer the blues Today!, but it is a vital documentation, recorded without thought of commercialism or marketing strategy, of a cusp in this essential American music. It will also, I bet, draw in new listeners, kick their asses and take names, and leave them astonished and happy. —Ed Ward

Chicago - The Blues - Today! Vol. 1
(192 kbps, ca. 63 MB)

Freitag, 13. Juni 2014

Jackie Mittoo - Macka Fat (1972)

Keyboard virtuoso Jackie Mittoo was among the true legends of reggae -- a founding member of the Skatalites and an extraordinarily prolific songwriter, he was perhaps most influential as a mentor to countless younger performers, primarily through his work as the musical director at the famed Studio One.

There are a dozen nice sultry instrumentals on this LP, released in the early '70s, though as always with vintage reggae albums, that doesn't necessarily indicate that all of the material was recorded then. Certainly it has the sound of the best rocksteady music, some of its trancier grooves hinting at the dub era. Bubbly organ riffs are heard throughout, of the sort that, with some tweaks, would be popularized in the U.S. by Timmy Thomas´ 1973 hit "Why Can't We Live Together."


Henry The Great
Good Feeling
Macka Fat
Lazy Bones
Fancy Pants
Something Else
Happy People
Purple Heart
Whoa Whoa
Division One
Ghetto Organ
Dad Is Home

Produced by C.S. Dodd at Studio 1 (Kingston, JA)

Jackie Mittoo - Macka Fat (1972)
(192 kbps, front cover included)

Jackie Mittoo - Keep On Dancing (1969)

By the time this 1969 solo record was released, organist/arranger Jackie Mittoo had already established his reputation as an important contributor to the Skatalites' catalog and Clement "Coxsone" Dodd's Studio One label. Under Dodd, Mittoo wrote a large chunk of the famous Brentford Road rhythms that would light up the charts, both in their original rocksteady form and as reworked gems for the dancehall crowd of the early '80s.

Like many of his fellow session players, Mittoo channeled U.S. soul and funk influences to help concoct a unique Jamaican musical style in the '60s and '70s. And while recent retrospectives, like Hearbeat's admirable "Tribute to Jackie Mittoo" two-disc set, make a first-choice selection easy, this and other of the organists many solo releases on the Studio One imprint beg a listen. One soon discovers Mittoo and Dodd's various house bands (the Soul Vendors, Sound Dimension, and the Soul Brothers) produced more than enough prime shots to fill several roundups. A fine slice of rocksteady and reggae-soul instrumentals from one of reggae's brightest lights.

Clean Up
Taste Of Soul
This Scorcher
Water Hole
Blue Lou
Taste Of Living
Juice Box
Keep On Dancing
Mellow Fellow
Can I Change My Mind
Spring Time
Hang ´em High
Lazy Bones
Hello Studio One

Jackie Mittoo - Keep On Dancing (1969)
(192 kbps, front cover included)

Mittwoch, 11. Juni 2014

Joachim Kühn, Daniel Humair, Jean-François Jenny-Clark - Music from the Threepenny Opera (1994)

While the music of Kurt Weill has been frequently recorded by jazz musicians, most of the songs on this trio date, other than the well-known "Mack the Knife," are not commonly performed in a jazz setting (one early exception was the album by the Sextet of Orchestra, USA).

Pianist Joachim Kuhn is joined by his frequent bandmates, Jean-François Jenny-Clark on bass and drummer Daniel Humair, for this introspective and very entertaining examination of eight songs from Weill's "The Threepenny Opera". "Pirate Jenny" is a driving hard bop performance that becomes quite intense, while the dark "Mr. Peacham's Morning Hymn" begins with a long exchange between Humair and Jenny-Clark, before it slows down for Kuhn's entry. "Solomon's Song" is a delicate waltz with a few dissonant twists added. "Love Song" is a bittersweet ballad made even more poignant by the trio's interpretation.

Kuhn frees himself from the rhythmic boundaries of the original score of "Mack the Knife" almost immediately, turning it into a long free improvisation piece featuring each member of the group in turn before eventually returning to its theme. Fans of post-bop and avant-garde will best appreciate the adventurous music within this highly recommended CD.

Joachim Kühn, Daniel Humair, Jean-Francois Jenny-Clark - Music From The Threepenny Opera
(192 kbps, front cover included)

Mittwoch, 4. Juni 2014

Lee Perry - Songs To Bring Back The Ark

Having abandoned the Jamaican tropics for the snowy peaks of Switzerland, the legendary reggae producer Lee Perry - aka Scratch, the Upsetter, the Super-Ape, Pipecock Jackson, Inspector Gadget, the Firmament Computer, and a cornucopia of other monikers and aliases - now makes his home in one of the quietest corners of Europe. It's an odd but somehow fitting environment for Perry - not because precision clocks and banks have much to do with the intense, spooky, and profoundly playful records he's known for, but because Lee Perry had always been something of a stranger in a strange land.

This is definitly not the Lee Perry album to start with for newbies, but an interesting collection of solo works and collaborations with the fabulous Mad Professor.

Lee Perry - Songs To Bring Back The Ark

King Tubby - Explosive Dub


Born January 28th 1941, King Tubby (Brad Osborne) is known primarily for his influence on the development of dub in the 1960s.
In the 1950s, King Tubby's musical career began with the sound systems, set up on the streets of Kingston and playing dance music for the people. As a radio repairman, Tubby soon became quite helpful at most of the sound systems around.
Tubby began working with Duke Reid in 1968. At Treasure Isle, a studio, Tubby began making remixes of hit songs, usually by simply removing the vocals. In time, Tubby (and others) began shifting the emphasis in the instrumentals, adding sounds and removing others and adding various special effects, like echoes. By 1971 , Tubby's soundsystem was one of the most popular in Kingston and he decided to open a studio of his own. His remixes soon proved enormously popular, and he became one of the biggest celebrities in Jamaica.

During the 1970s, Tubby's work in the studio gave rise to modern dub music. He had a long string of hit songs, and worked as a producer for some of Jamaica's most popular artists, including Lee Perry, Bunny Lee, Augustus Pablo and Yabby You. In 1973, he began recording vocals to put along the instrumentals. By the later part of the decade though, King Tubby had mostly retired from music, still occasionally recording remixes and tutoring a new generation of artists, including King Jammy and Scientist. In the 1980s, he focused on production for Anthony Red Rose, Sugar Minott and other popular musicians.

He was shot and killed by unknown persons, probably in a robbery attempt, in 1989, February 06th."

"Explosive Dub" is a collection of tracks originally appeared on Brad Osbourne's New York based Clocktower label in the late 70s, many of which were played as dub plates by the sound systems of these days.


Soundtrack Dub
Easy Skanking Dub
Burning Dub
Daylight Dub
Stepping Dub
Just A Man Dub
Send Me Dub
In Love Dub
Perfidia Dub
Reggae Dub
Babylon Dub
Love Me With Your Heart Dub
Music Field Dub
So Fine Dub
True Dub
Freedom Dub
Today Dub
No One Dub
Good Man Dub

King Tubby - Explosive Dub