King Crimson - "Red" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 1974/2013 (Discipline Global Mobile)

I've avoided King Crimson ever since their first album. I admired and loved the Eno/Fripp albums as well as Robert Fripp's contributions to David Bowie's "Heroes" album, yet when it came to King Crimson, I felt like that was the Jets hangout, when I was clearly a member of The Sharks.  It wasn't until a few hours ago that under either a condition of boredom or being adventurism (or both) that I went to Amoeba and purchased "Red."

I played the album once so far, and I love it.  What surprised me, and it shouldn't have, is the connection between Roxy Music and King Crimson.   I know that Bryan Ferry was once going to audition to be their lead singer, and of course the Eno/Fripp connection as well.  But listening to "Red" reminds me of some of the longer instrumental passages of the first two Roxy albums.  It's more in that line than say garden-variety prog rock.  Fripp is exceptional of course, but John Wetton's bass playing is incredible.  A very aggressive heavy sound from that instrument that reminds me a bit of John Entwhistle or traces of a punk aesthetic concerning the noise of the bass.  Michael Nyman in his orchestra had a heavy electric bass player as well, that also stands out in such a manner. 

"Red" is a classic album, in that there are no wasted moments and all five songs are equally placed in a position that makes the album seem more like a novella than a big novel.  The beauty or strength of King Crimson and on this album is the textural playing by all musicians.  There is a riff orientation that goes through here, but also a gentle melody here and there that gives the material tension.  Fripp broke up the band right after recording "Red," I think due to the issues of the band being tied down to its prog-rock image, as well as Fripp being curious to explore the world of New York City's punk/post-punk/ no wave scene.  He didn't need to break up this band. It would have been at home in lower Manhattan. 

The Who - "Tommy" 2 xVinyl, LP, Album, 1969 (Decca)

I was 15 years old when I purchased the "Tommy" album.  Oddly enough, considering that I'm a huge Who fan (with Keith Moon/John Entwistle) now, then, I just liked the idea that they smashed their instruments after each performance.  But at 15 I got caught up on the grand aspects of pop music, and when I heard that Pete Townshend was working on an 'opera,' well, this was going to be my first Who purchase.   I admired the Townshend scope and ambition.  Also in publications like Rolling Stone, it was reported that he worked on this project for a long time.  Once I heard it, I knew it was a masterpiece, in fact, I knew so, because being a media child at the time, it was written that "Tommy" is an iconic album.   The truth is, I played the album a few times and forgot about it.  For god sake for one, they were not The Kinks!

Within decades I avoided any album by The Who after "Tommy," but over time, and with great patience, I purchased and listened to Who records that led to their 'opera.'   As a 63-year-old man, I consider that there is no such bad thing as a bad Who album or song before "Tommy."  I lost my "Tommy" album when I made the massive switch from vinyl to CD, during the digital revolution and never replaced it as I did with the earlier Who recordings.

Last March I was on a 9-hour flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles, and in that numb state of mind, I watched the current version of The Who do "Tommy."  I loved it. Not sure if it was due to the boredom of a long plane flight and being trapped in a confining coach seat on the airline, or that I just appreciated the entertainment wherever I can find it.   But it stayed with me until I went to a local record store.  It was a week ago that I bought a used copy of "Tommy" to re-introduce myself to the record without the cultural baggage that came with the rock n' roll opera.   It brought back my memory of being 15, and now I recall why I didn't like the album that much.

The music itself is brilliant.   There is not one bad tune on the entire album.  And I even love the Keith Moon song "Tommy's Holiday Camp" as well as the always brilliant composition by Entwistle "Do You Think It's Alright?"   What I do not like is the actual sound of the album itself.  My cultural hero Kit Lambert failed The Who in the sonic department.   The recording strikes me as a demo more than a finished recorded work.  A sketch when it needed a full oil-paint on a canvas.   Keep in mind that I love Lambert's production on all Who recordings that he worked on, except for the iconic "Tommy."    If I were a total lunatic, I would collect every recording of "Tommy" possible, and I may go down that dark and slippery slope shortly, but meanwhile, I think the best version of "Tommy" is the live recordings such as the longer version of "Live at Leeds."

The big primary question is "Tommy" good for rock n' roll or pop?  I don't have an answer for that.  For one, I have always seen the album as a work that is one whole and not separated by individual song tracks. Of course, this is not always the case by the artists in question.  Still, this is how I look at albums.  I rarely look at an album and go "that's a great song, but the rest...." I take the entire work as if it is (or was) a narrative novel.   There are economic reasons why albums exist, and the difference between the 45 rpm single and the 33 1/3 long player.   But when I play an album, I'm embracing the huge world that this 12" represents to me.   "Tommy" may be one of the first albums for me (as a teenager) that led to the bigger picture of how one approaches the album.  That, and "Sgt. Pepper" of course.

David Bowie - "Welcome to the Blackout (Live in London '78) 3 x Vinyl, 2018 (Parlophone)

If I can look into the fortune teller's crystal ball, I can safely predict that there will be many more live David Bowie albums in the coming years.   Which by the way, I'm not complaining.   "Welcome to the Blackout" was recorded on June 30, and July 1, 1978, and the last shows of this particular tour.  Oddly enough I do not have "Stage" in my collection, so I can't make the comparisons between the two live albums, which were both recorded on the same tour.  On the other hand, it's an exciting mix of musicians backing Bowie up.  There's the Station to Station lineup of George Murray, Carlos Alomar, and Dennis Davis - a powerful rhythm section with Alomar mostly on rhythm guitar. Then there is the arty side, which is Adrian Belew, Roger Powell (from Todd's Utopia), Sean Mayes, and violinist Simon House who played with Hawkwind.

If this were a sandwich, Murray/Alomar/Davis would be the meat, and the others are expensive dressings on those two pieces of bread.  It's a terrific band, but on record, I think I prefer the Station to Station group because it was more focused and had a more of an attack on the material.  The songs on this album are almost speeding metal versions, in that the pacing is upbeat, and goes quite quickly.  Bowie's vocals and pronunciations are perfectly pitched and entirely understandable.  The Ziggy Stardust side doesn't allow any space or silence between the songs.  It's one rush of a full-length melody that is effective.  Their version of "Ziggy Stardust" is very textured and exciting interplay between the electric violin and Belew's guitar.  

The material is very much Ziggy (all in one go) with a few songs from "Station to Station" and the rest from "Low" and "Heroes."  Oh, and there is an excellent Weill/Brecht song as well.  A must for the collection or completist, but is it essential?   Tony Visconti did the original recording of the album, and Bowie did finish this live album at the time, but forever reasons, was never released until now.  Perhaps Bowie himself is a completionist as well. 

Serge Gainsbourg & Michel Colombier - "Le Pacha" Vinyl, LP, Album, OST, 2018/1968 (Wewantsounds)

This newly released album is the original soundtrack of the film "Le Pacha," composed and made by Serge Gainsbourg and Michel Colombier.  The critical song here is Requiem Pour Un Con, which is one of the classic Gainsbourg pieces.  Easily my top three for four (or five) Serge recordings.  The relentless rhythm is brilliant, and the minimal guitars, with Gainsbourg's unique and unusual voice over the track, is essential listening.   One of the great dance pieces as well.  Nevertheless, the genius of Gainsbourg, besides his literary talents, is his ability to work with arrangers who contribute significantly to his recordings.  Michel Colombier is one of three significant arrangers who worked with Serge, to make fantastic music.  Colombier's talents were used for the late 1960s recordings. 

This release is the first time where all the music used in the film is on vinyl.  The theme of Requiem Pour Un Con runs through the album, and it's fascinating to see how they play with this remarkable melody.  Included in this package are two songs from "Mr. Freedom," a film by William Klein, which one can get through Criterion.   Funky soul, but French style.  Another win-win from the Gainsbourg/Colombier team.  Serge made numerous great OST albums or EP's and "La Pacha" is very much an essential Gainsbourg purchase and listen. 

Terry Reid - "Bang, Bang You're Terry Reid" Vinyl, LP, Album, 1968 (Epic)

Terry Reid has good taste in covers, and he has the voice that cuts through all his material.  Terry Reid is very much his voice/guitar, organ, and drums.  With some horn and what sounds like a stand-up bass on the song "Without Expression" which to me sounds like a classic Donovan song, but alas, a Reid song.  Legend has it that Jimmy Page asked Reid to be Led Zeppelin's singer, but he turned it down, but not before recommending Robert Plant.  And there is a similar sound to Reid's voice to Plant, but I think in 1968, Terry was a better singer.  Beside Plant, there is a Nina Simone touch, and he has a feminine approach to the words.  Without saying, he can sing the ABC's and make it into a moving experience.  

"Bang, Bang, You're Terry Reid" is a fantastic album.  It's very 1968, and it's produced by pop music golden ears Mickie Most, who at this time seemed to be into a heavy sound, for instance, he produced the Jeff Beck Group at this time as well.  The thing is Reid is heavy, but he treats his songs and his covers as delicate pieces of glass.  He knows how to press hard, but he gives each song a tension that is never cliche, and like my Simone comparison, he knows how to stretch, pull, and focus on the melodic dynamic of the song.   The covers here are Sonny Bono's "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)," Donovan's "Season of the Witch," the great Gene Pitney ballad "Something's Gotten Hold of My Heart," and Eddie Cochran's "Summertime Blues."  "Writing on the Wall" reminds me very much like The Yardbirds' "Still, I'm Sad," which they share the same producer (Most).   His version of the Cochran song has a Keith Emerson (The Nice) approach, which is unusual.  I should note here because there's no credit at all on the album that Eric Leese plays the organ and Keith Webb on the drums.  I suspect as a live act, they must have been magnificent.  Special thank you to Robert Newman for bringing Terry Reid to my attention.  

Ennio Morricone - "Ecce Homo, I Sopravvissuti" Vinyl, LP, Album, OST, 2002 (Dagored)

Ennio Morricone's "Ecce Homo: I Sopravvissuti" is one of his more obscure works, but of course, it's excellent.  This is more of his small orchestration with strings, some vocals, but basically a chamber work.  There is also a thumb-piano mixed in with the strings, and flute.   The Chimes gives it a slight exotica feel, but it's music that is quietly intense.  

"Ecce Homo" is a film from 1968 and directed by Bruno Gaburro.  If the film is like the music, it has to be an intense viewing experience.  Although Morricone wrote for the screen, I feel his music works just as well as an independent music piece.  I have to imagine that the works here are incidental pieces - there is no major theme music, but just a series of music that's similar or plays with the major theme.  The great Edda Dell'Orso is the vocalist, and again, her operatic touches are magical and profoundly beautiful.  In sections, I think of John Cage's prepared piano music, but I think due that the piano (prepared piano?) and thumb-piano are used in a rhythmic manner.  Also noted is the conductor, the great Bruno Nicolai.  

Wallace Berman - "(In Conversation)" Vinyl, LP, Album, Spoken Word, Limited Edition, Mono, 2015 (Edition Muta)

Without a doubt, the most personal recording in my record collection.  It's a conversation between my father the artist Wallace Berman with Hal Glicksman, a curator, and Jack & Ruth Hirschman, with my mom Shirley Berman as well.  On top of that, it was a secretly taped conversation.  My father didn't have the slightest idea that Hal was taping their chat, until halfway through this recording.  My father was famous for not giving interviews, and pretty much avoided talking about his artwork. He very much believed that the art itself should communicate with the viewer.  And he had an intense mistrust with popular media, which is ironic because Wallace used images from mass-produced magazines.  Or perhaps that alone is a comment on the nature of images and art.  Nevertheless, this is very much a typical night at the Berman household.   What I found shocking is the mention of Boris Vian by Jack, which many years in the future I became devoted to this author, and ended up publishing all his significant novels with my press TamTam Books.   The past becomes very much part of my present and going back listening to this recording, makes me realize that things are set in motion. It's a strange disconnect between my life now and then.   A fascinating document and I do recommend this to anyone who has an interest in my father's work, as well as American counter-culture life during 1968.  The album is a limited edition of 400.  I also wrote the liner notes for this release.