Rock journeyman Aynsley Dunbar has proven himself one of the finest drummers in the business for over twenty years, whether as a member of several bands or as a session musician.
When Flo and Eddie jumped ship in 1972 after a deranged fan pushed Zappa from the stage, confining him to a wheelchair, Dunbar joined their backing band for a short while, although he would also return to work with Zappa on studio projects like Waka/Jawaka, The Grand Wazoo, andApostrophe', as well as continuing his periodic studio work for other artists. He briefly formed an association with David Bowie around 1973-74 for the albums Pin-Ups and Diamond Dogs, but in 1975, Dunbar decided to join a new jazz-rock fusion group called Journey. He remained with the band up through 1978's Infinity, departing as Journey brought in vocalist Steve Perry and shifted their sound towards arena-rock.Dunbar began his career on the British blues-rock scene, playing with Champion Jack Dupree and Eddie Boyd before becoming the drummer for John Mayall's Bluesbreakers in 1967; he was influenced by jazz and the Who's Keith Moonas well. During this time, Dunbar also played on Jeff Beck'sseminal Truth sessions, and also met Frank Zappa in Belgium; when Zappa broke up the first edition of theMothers of Invention, he invited Dunbar to join his new band. Dunbar first appeared with Zappa as a guitarist onUncle Meat, but soon assumed drum chores in the Flo and Eddie version of the Mothers, appearing on such albums asChunga's Revenge, Fillmore East: June 1971, and 200 Motels, and playing music that gave him a chance to show off his jazzier chops. In the meantime, Dunbar also formed a blues-rock band calledthe Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation, which featured guitarist/vocalist John Moorshead, bassist Alex Dmochowski, and organist Victor Brox. The group released several albums from 1969-1970, including a self-titled effort, Doctor Dunbar's Prescription, and To Mum From Aynsley and the Boys.
Dunbar next joined Jefferson Starship in 1978, staying put through 1982's Winds of Change. He resurfaced several years later with Whitesnake and played drums on the band's 1987 commercial breakthrough. However, Dunbar was again gone by the next Whitesnake album; he has since returned to the blues-rock he started his career with, working with such artists as Pat Travers. AMG..
Portuguese singer that mixes traditional, folk and new sounds. Her fourth solo work, "Tras-os-Montes", it's the result of two years of research material related to music and transmontanas traditional culture. Give it a try.
If there's anything to say about Ed Hamell (aka Hamell on Trial), it's that he's certainly not shy about voicing his opinion. On his fifth solo record, Songs for Parents Who Enjoy Drugs, the anti-folk acoustic punk singer presents his most politically charged album to date. Inspired by the birth of his son, Detroit,Hamell searches to answer some of the questions that plague all parents in the 21st century (what to do when he asks if you've ever done "anything bad" -- the response: "lie" -- in "Inquiring Minds" or how to justify picking up toys when "We're over in Iraq/And there's no sign of turning back" in "Values") while keeping everything very tongue-in-cheek. Hamell's not concerned about dispelling stereotypes or about showing "compassion" ("That would take a bigger person than me," he admits in "Coulter's Snatch," which is everything you'd think it would be, only probably more graphic); in fact, he doesn't even seem to mind perpetuating them (the Southern-accented voice in "Maddy's Pt. 1" and "Pt. 2"). He's just angry and wants to say what he feels, and doesn't care who he offends in the meantime. WhileHamell's nasally, sneering voice can be more than a little grating -- not to mention the fact that his delivery as a "rapper" is pretty bad -- his intentions are, in an odd way, very sincere. Maybe this can be seen in his less political songs, like in "Jerkin'," an atypical ode to monogamy, or the early-U2-esque"Father's Advice" ("You'd better love/'Til you die"), everything played over fuzzed-out acoustic and electric guitars and random synths. It's lo-fi music that sounds like it's played on broken strings and blown-out amps, and while perhaps Johnny Rotten would never be caught singing "The Wheels on the Bus" (albeit a more modern, and disturbing, version of it that features Detroit on background vocals), he might appreciate the D.I.Y. ethic that Hamell pursues. As an album, Songs for Parents Who Enjoy Drugs is kind of hit-or-miss, but as a statement, he's spot-on. AMG.
Long before launching a recorded career as a singer/songwriter, Stephen Bruton had amassed a daunting résumé. He had served as a sideman/guitarist, songwriter, or producer for such industry notables as Bonnie Raitt, Delbert McClinton, Bob Dylan, Ray Wylie Hubbard, Hal Ketchum,Christine McVie, T-Bone Burnett, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Patty Loveless, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, andAlejandro Escovedo. Bruton grew up in Ft. Worth, Texas, the son of a jazz musician and record-store owner. He got his first big break when Kris Kristofferson tapped him to fill a vacant band slot in the early '70s. After working with an impressive array of artists for over 20 years, Bruton released his first solo album in the early '90s. Later that decade, he signed to New West Records, the home of such Americana talent as Billy Joe Shaver, the Flatlanders, and Delbert McClinton. Bruton's fourth release, Spirit World, a mixture of blues, country, and rock & roll, came out in early 2002, followed in 2005 by From the Five. Sadly, Bruton died at age 60 from complications of throat cancer at the home of T-Bone Burnett in Los Angeles on May 9, 2009;Bruton and Burnett had been working together on the film Crazy Heart, an Academy Award-winning vehicle for actor Jeff Bridges. Bruton and Burnett co-wrote much of the music for the film, andBridges' Bad Blake character was in fact inspired by Bruton. Bruton's death came shortly after he completed his work on Crazy Heart, and the film was dedicated to him. AMG.
Baby Woodrose is a rock band formed in Copenhagen, Denmark in 2001. They take their name from the Argyreia nervosa, a plant commonly known as Hawaiian baby woodrose, which can be used for hallucinogenic effects.
The Bright Mississippi stands alone among Allen Toussaint albums. Technically, it is not his first jazz album, for in 2005 he released Going Places on the small CD Baby-distributed Captivating Recording Technologies, a label run by his son Reginald, but for most intents and purposes -- and for most listeners -- The Bright Mississippi might as well be his first foray into jazz, since it's the first to get a major-label production and release as it's a de facto sequel to Toussaint's successful, high-profile, 2006 duet album with Elvis Costello, The River in Reverse. Like that record, The Bright Mississippi is produced by Joe Henry, who has a knack for a sound that's clean yet soulful, one that lets the music breathe but still has heft to it. Henry teams Toussaint with a cast of heavy hitters -- including clarinetistDon Byron, trumpeter Nicholas Payton, guitarist Marc Ribot and, on a track a piece, pianist Brad Mehldau and saxophonist Joshua Redman -- to support the pianist on a run through jazz standards ranging from Duke Ellington and Django Reinhardt to Louis Armstrong and Thelonious Monk, whose 1963 classic provides the album its title. Everybody has a little bit where they shine, but this is thoroughly Toussaint's showcase, a place where he can ease back and string together New Orleans jazz and R&B in his own elegant fashion. And what impresses most about Bright Mississippi is that although straight-out jazz is uncommon in Toussaint's work, this neither feels unfamiliar or like a stretch. His signature runs and smooth grooves can be heard throughout the album, but the relaxed nature of the sessions makes it easier than ever to hear what an idiosyncratic, inventive instrumentalist he is, and that is a quality that's more evident upon repeated plays. Upon the first listen, The Bright Mississippi merely seems like a joyous good time, but subsequent spins focus attention on just how rich and multi-layered this wonderful music is. AMG.
Mac DeMarco is a hard one to pin down. Before switching to his given name for Rock and Roll Night Club, DeMarco existed as cassette-issuing Makeout Videotape, where his music ping-ponged from digital noise to high-strung underwater pop. Promotional videos he's made for his music have more in common with the damaged frat-boy absurdity of Tim & Eric than the typical sullen art school dropout imagery of some of his Captured Tracks labelmates, or even the androgynous post-glam characterization that flows through this debut. The strange distractions that surround DeMarco are off-putting at best, and could definitely stand as deal breakers to anyone without the patience for nonsense. It isn't even really safe to say one should focus on the music alone, as even just the raw files of Rock and Roll Night Club are infiltrated by goofy fake radio announcements and the occasional detour into Ween-at-their-worst levels of sophomoric idiocy. DeMarco is best approached on a song-to-song basis, forgetting any external influence or even the song that came before it. Track for track, Rock and Roll Night Club is full of highlights. The starry-eyed darkness of "Only You" comes closest to a modern take on indie rock, sounding like a weathered Deerhunter cassette demo from the Microcastleera. Early on DeMarco employs direct clean guitars and muffled drums on the weird denim-fetish anthem "Baby's Wearing Blue Jeans." The next song, "One More Tear to Cry," carries on this Lou Reedif produced by Ariel Pink thread, using the same lonely croon and actually the exact same vocal melody. The next track, "European Vegas," does the same, shifting melodies only a little on the chorus. "She's Really All I Need" breaks the chain somewhat, melding a finally different melody with wobbly guitar lines and beachy percussion. Somehow instead of being an annoyingly repetitive conceptual misfire, the identical melodies work in DeMarco's homespun glam thug sonnets in an if-it-ain't-broke kinda way, lending different shades of the same color to their respective songs. Then moments later, the off-key dork-fest ode to the king of pop "Moving Like Mike" dismantles the cool vibe and resets the feeling of the entire album. Rock and Roll Night Club is a confusing record, but not a mess. On the contrary, it's so deeply calculated that the intentions and possible motivations of its songs are likely to be lost on most. This would be a problem if the good songs weren't so incredible and strange and the weak ones so immediately forgettable. AMG.
Though Morris had enjoyed a career as a fine cornetist and composer for, among others, David Murray, his first album as a leader found him investigating his own driving passion, the "conduction." He had honed this ability with Murray's big band, organizing riffs and responses for the group on the fly, blurring the distinction between composing and improvising. Here, he assembled a tentet evenly divided between musicians from a jazz background and those from the then nascent downtown New York City scene, including future "superstars" John Zorn, Tom Cora, and Christian Marclay for a live session at The Kitchen. The music owes little to jazz, however, and traverses relatively rough, abstract territory as Morris selects various groups within the ensemble, soloists, duos, etc., and channels them into loose slabs of sound. Here, they're in a dense swirl, harshly bleating while there, a serene, delicate quiet takes hold, Zeena Parkins' harp plucking forlornly. Zorn is in full-on screech and game call mode through much of the evening while Marclay provides some of the more routinely entertaining moments, at one point dropping in some heavily funky rap from his turntable. In the ensuing years, the success of many of Morris' conduction projects would depend critically on the caliber and sensitivity to his conception of the players involved. Here, while the musicians are certainly fine, there is perhaps a lack of familiarity to his approach since the overall effect doesn't quite attain the cohesiveness and sense of scale that one would like to hear. The recording suffers a bit simply by the listener being unable to observe Morris in action, making it unclear as to exactly what his contributions were at any given point. Fragments work fairly well on their own (such as the Eastern-sounding beginning to "Part Two") and the whole idea, at the time, was an exciting and innovative one. This makes Current Trends... worth hearing as a somewhat flawed first attempt at a grand and fascinating idea. AMG.