Right up there with Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry and Prefab Sprout at the tip-top of that oft-forgotten genre echelon crossbreed of 80's cocaine pop, bossa nova and lounge known as "sophisi-pop", Swing Out Sister are also perhaps the classiest and most soulful of the lot. Jimmy Webb even directs an orchestra in a few spots, but on the whole this is would serve as a pretty decent noir soundtrack for an era so wrapped up in the glory of synthesized soul.
Somewhere in the world, I think, between Corrine Drewery's sumptuous pleas and the immaculate soundscaping prowess of Andy Connell on keyboards/guitar is the image of a strange, yet beautiful place that will never return...and that, my friends, is a tragedy.
Ukraine for me might as well be the other side of the goddamn moon for all the connection I have with the country, but what bands do tend to rear their heads out of that National Socialist haven (such as black-folk metal masqueraders Noktuяиαl Moяtuм) tend to have a knack for spinning you upside the ankle and knocking us feeble outside audiences on our collective asses.
This record is a sheer majesty in the art of pummeling your fucking mind to peanut brittle and then reviving whatever corpse remains into the likeness of a cream clad Seraphim. The keyboards sound in waves, and the onslaught of acoustics is a gorgeous, striking contrast ('The Sky Of Sorrowful Nights') to the madness and mercury of 'Valkiriya' and other +10 minute monstrosities.
A certain frame of mind is needed, but this may just be the best freakin' black metal album you'll ever sit through.
Swedish power-progressive-pop-trio (big mouthful there) Bяothεя Apε are one of the more interesting bands to come out of Sweden in the last several decades, if for nothing else than that they don't quite sound like any other group in the vast multitude of scenes and pantheons that constitutes the independent musicale uncommercial worldwide. Echoes of Yes, Rush and Kaipa are all over the arrangements, guitar work and songwriting, but the execution here on 2006's Shαngяi-Lα comes across as a oft-ignored individual in a world full of people trying to sound and act like one another.
Jazzy, knotty and at times strikingly magnificent, this band could rule the world if the world would simply give a damn in turn.
New Jack Swing-80's-pop-Christmas-stuff. Thankfully, the original compositions here outnumber the covers, and the whole thing reeks wonderfully of Alexander's sensibility when it comes to production lushness as well.
With that said, I wish a MerryChristmasto each and every one of you. Enjoy! :)
Before some rather nasty legal trouble involving a woman and his trouser snake landed him in the joint until fairly recently, Mr. Michael Lawrence Tyler (AKA Mysτikαl) was arguably the hottest name in The Game, a status that was cemented in both songwriting and production on his 2001 magnum opus Tαrαиτulα.
Bling, the streets, bitches, gettin' pussy, bitches: all your favorite boom rap subject matter is here and ready to roll like a joint gone mean n' Cuban. Every track's got a nasty fine hook to the jaw: the title track bellows like an angry beast to the tune of a couple of pissed off synth arpeggios. Lines of all kinds get snorted throughout: bass, synths, beats galore. We even get horns on tracks like 'That's That Shit', but without all that self-conscious ATCQ crap holding back the pimp within.
The James Brown of hip-hop is here to blow some mothafuckin' MINDS boys & girls, so put that in your bowls and smoke it!
One of five albums in my vast collection that I consider a desert island disc, this is, at least in my eyes, the single best contemporary/smooth jazz record that has ever been recorded by anyone at any period of time. Closely matched in overall quality by only a few other artists in this sort of genre or related areas (Toshiki Kadomatsu, Pat Metheny, Kit Walker and jazz-fusioners Karizma), the superlatives I could lay upon the nine cuts within this disc are near infinite. Deceptively accessible, melodic and boiling with atmosphere, this was an album recorded just as the Rips had begun to hit their peak. Russ Freeman, guitar god that he is, was beginning to experiment a bit more with guitar synths, percussionist Steve Reid was coming into his role as the group's sound architect and soundscaper, and Brandon Fields demonstrates time and time again what a damn good alto saxophonist can do when he isn't trying to be a hack like David Sanborn.
Needless to say, this is a strong record through and through, with four out of nine pieces in particular cementing this album's place at the godhead of all things smooth and Weather Channelesque. First is the title track, opened and closed out with some swooshing Korg synths and a steady drumline that remains (even into 2011) the coolest intro to any muzak ever written. Carl Anderson even scats throughout! Next you have the 6.5 minute 'One Summer Night In Brazil', which while slow remains sumptuous, beautifully textured and even tideful thanks to a combination of acoustic guitar, a couple of skins and Freeman. The last two, 'Earthbound' and 'Destiny' are a punchy pair that kick things up a notch in pace yet remain slick and electrified. They help close out one hell of a strong set, and are in fact worth the price of admission in a nutshell.
I can count the albums on both hands that made me sit up and suck in every track in only one go-around, with Yes's Close To The Edge, The Stooges' Fun House, It Bites' The Tall Ships and Soundgarden's Badmotorfinger being a couple of the big ones. Records that outperform, outclass, breezing through hooks, ideas and dynamics in twenty to forty minutes that make entire other bands' recorded outputs look like yesterday's garbage.
This was the album that turned me into a fanatic of all things smooth, the catalyst for a million other brilliant discoveries both analogous and bizarre, and nothing captures the late 80's better by a country mile.
There must be something awfully magical over in Scandinavia's water supply, because some of the best melodic-anything in a variety of genres has continually emerged out of Sweden and Norway with almost bewildering consistency. From progressive metal (Pain Of Salvation, Opeth) to AOR (Work Of Art, Treat) and so on and so forth, there's a little something for everyone out there...almost to the point where you'd need half a dozen Twitter feeds just to keep track of it all! That being said, you don't have to be a eclectic guy like me to appreciate the good stuff from that side of the pond. Just ask any Pitchfork-slobbering ponce from the last six years or your local Zooey Deschanel wannabes, cause there's one act that'll pop up again and again no matter where (if at all) you reside in the great Indie-sphere: Kiиgs Of Coиvεиiεиcε, a modern Simon & Garfunkel type who play some of the dardnest pretty folk stuffz you'll ever have the pleasure of hearing. 2004's Rioτ Oи Aи Eмpτy Strεετ finds guitar/vocal duo Erlend Øye and EirikBøe plucking and harmonizing away (and occasionally bolstered behind via strings, drums, etc.) in a contemporary homage to everyone from America to *insert singer/songwriter here* who's taken a leaf out of the playbook of Antonio Carlos Jobim. Although the more singles-oriented out there probably know this record from dancier tracks like 'I'd Rather Dance With You' and 'Love Is No Big Truth', a smarter listener will delve in beyond those two and find the real gold therein. Tracks like 'Surprise Ice' and the heart-wincing melody driven 'Cayman Islands' could have been recorded at any time over the last forty years and still come out as blindsidingly gorgeous.
Great autumnal albums don't come 'round too often my friends, so take a gander and have your hearts be cured of sleeping miseries. Try It Buy It
One of the best progressive rock bands to come out of the U.S. who were not part of the oversaturated "neo-prog." scene of the 80's, Eснolyи are the ideal mix of Alternative rock, Yezda Urfa and the masters of polyphony themselves Gentle Giant. Technical beyond reproach, off-kilter and yet at times startlingly beautiful and accessible, this band was a driving force in establishing progressive rock as a viable genre in the eyes of a Generation X who only knew of prog. as "that old genre my Dad/musician uncle was into".
Released in the early, tumultuous days of the group's initial four-piece existence, 1992's Sυffocαtiиg Tнε Βlooм showcases this remarkable bunch at their rawest and most spontaneous. There's a wonderful sense of spasticity and mania in the rhythm section, especially on wildland romper 'Wintherthru' and within the jittery jazzmatazz of '21', but even slower cuts like the woodwind-flavored 'One Voice' are accentuated through actual strings that lend these songs a special authenticity no matter their tempo.
"I feel that I'm always sawing through the branch I'm sitting on," laments vocalist Ray Weston on the final part of the Everyman suite which bookends the record. A summation of the human condition indeed, and it couldn't have come on a wonderfully more organic & alive sounding record than this one. For those of you seeking art, this will seem an unsung masterpiece...and you won't find me disagreeing.
Better known for his audacious Broadway career as the original Judas from musical megahit galore Jesus Christ Superstar, singer-songwriter Cαяl Aиdεяsoи built up quite the belt of solo releases before losing a longstanding battle with leukemia in 2004, leaving the world in mourning.
Although there are a number of excellent records from his discography that I could post here, 1992's Fαиtαsy Hotεl is near the top of the bunch as far as songwriting, execution and production goes, serving as something of a crossover point between the jazzy dance pop of his 80's career and the Westcoast tendencies of this record's collaborators (Russ Freeman, David Foster, etc.).
Through and through a romantic pop record, the sentiments expressed in these pieces isn't anything you haven't heard before. However, Aиdεяsoи's delivery is so good throughout the record that even the weakest moments are dwarfed into oblivion, and on songs such as 'If Not For Love' and "Lover's Mask', quirks and interesting cynicisms draw breath and peek out from behind the synth-leaden curtain. But again, everything's so damn pristine and well arranged that you might as well be able to eat these songs off a plate and not give a damn about the contents either way. Such is life, and thus..
"We're not what we seem/We're just something you have dreamed/Just a fantasy hotel."
A well known protege and musical friend to Peter Gabriel, progenitor of the Mbalax genre of dance music and Senegal's most famous musical artist of all time, you'd be hard pressed to find a more influential "World" music artist in the last thirty years than Yoυssoυ N'Doυя. Comparable to the magnificent Fela Kuti as far as artistic eclecticism and vision goes, 1989's Thε Lion was the first taste that many people outside the African subcontinent got of this fella's pop sensibility, partly thanks to the contributions and production help of not only the former Genesis vocalist himself, but David Sancious (of Bruce Springsteen and Sting fame) as well.
Needless to say, Mr. N'Dour has a helluva set of pipes, and uses his voice creatively throughout the nine songs here. From standards like 'Old Tucson' to the ethereal yet compellingly eerie 'Macoy', percussive arrangements frame smoky sounding keyboards and occasionally punchy basslines and guitar work to make even the barest of threads vibrant and full of atmosphere.
Overall, this is a lucious little record that brings a lot of fun to the table, even if you don't speak Senegalese or emphasize with his socio-economic observations. Fans of anything off the beaten path, however, will devour this in a single, auditory gulp.
One of jazz and pop music's unheralded geniuses, Giиo Vαииεlli is a singer/songwriter of Italian and Canadian descent who has been performing and recording since the early 70's into the present day. Blessed with an operatic tenor somewhere between Tim Buckley and Bobby Caldwell and purporting an approach to music that has just as much in common with Marvin Gaye as it does with The Alan Parsons Project, this guy is ridiculously distinct and unlike anyone you folks have ever had the pleasure of running across in whatever musical trails ya'll might have been following.
This late 70's release is my favorite album by Vαииεlli: it came out about a year after Parsons' Tales Of Mystery And Imagination, and thus leads one to believe that there is some classical influence to be derived from that amazing release. The title track which closes out this album is a four-part classical suite, and the rest of the pop-oriented fare is equally jaw-dropping in their execution. Feeling up for something smooth and ideal for a late night drive? Try the unusual 'Valleys Of Valhalla' or bossa nova-kissed 'The Surest Things Can Change'. Wanting some bounce to your beat? Let 'Mardi Gras' stab you and get that blood flowin' in all the right ways.
Killer vocals, progressive songwriting and a spacey late 70's atmosphere make this record a cult classic if there ever was one, and it's a damn fine place to make headway into the strange, yet groovy world of Giиo Vαииεlli.
Although they formed in the early 90's and quickly established something special as far as musical identity goes, Boy Ηiτs Cαя never seemed to gain a foothold in rock radio territory despite excellent dynamics and songwriting which pervaded their releases -- from the success of their debut on Wind-Up Records in 2001 all the way to the present day, it's just been one steller set of songs after another.
That being said, Sτεαliиg Fiяε is an alt-rock fan's wet dream in more ways than one, and yet like most of the year's best records you probably won't see it on any AOTY lists. Razorscuzzed guitar lines that scale up and down harmonic minor scales, exotic high-end excellence from vocal giant Craig Rondell and a slick, multi-faceted eclecticism not unlike peer such as Deftones and Ra...this is the sort of stuff my generation makes love to, and boy does it pack one fuck of a wallop!
As I've made clear in past posts here on The Widening Eye, I am a monstrously huge fan of Japanese beach guitar wizard Toѕнiki Kαdoмαtѕu-san. He's one of those guys who is hit and miss as far as his studio material is concerned, but he's also one of those self-made artists who, when he actually does hit the mark, he's about as close to perfection as anyone could hope to be in the realm of Japanese jazz pop.
This particular release was Kαdoмαtѕu's second and final instrumental album that he'd cut in studio and release in LP form, and it holds the distinction of being his single most powerful and cohesive statement as both a guitarist and songwriter. Featuring high-energy performances in a variety of formats, these songs blend progressive Jazz-Fusion with the Post-Disco influenced "City pop" melodic sensibility that reigned supreme over Japanese FM radio for the first half of the 80's.
Call it progressive smooth jazz, Beach-Fusion, Adult Contemporary on crack-cocaine, whatever. No matter what sort of labels you might toss around, this is one of the best melodic Jazz Fusion albums to ever have the pleasure of being recorded and released in the 80's in any country, perhaps even in the whole of Jazz music history itself depending on your angle.
If you've ever pondered to hear what might happen when The Beach Boys go the way of Mahavishnu Orchestra, take a gander herein. It captures it's era better than nearly anything else you'll find.
Underused and under-appreciated somewhat despite his megastatus as one of Motown's elite producers back in the Golden Age of soul, Joнииy Bяisτol was a gifted songwriter who put his talent to work in his solo career as well, part of which is exhibited in this 1978 collection. My favorite track is the one which opens the bunch in fact, "Strangers In The Dark Corners", which turns on a dime from strings to chorus and still brings a damn good chorus to the table.
We all know Duh Boz was a mean ol' boss on the streets of L.A. from '68 through '88, but it's only when you leap forward into a far more alien era that the true measure of a great artist can be gleaned, and in that regard Dig is one hell of entrance into the 21st century for an aging and "irrelevant", yet still quite vital, existence.
These are the nighttime blues for a fresh new audience, shuffling grooves for the uninitiated. There is not a 'Lowdown' or 'Jojo' to be found, but staked out downtempo territory not far removed from the excess of post-2000's Bristolian reveries, yet equally sumptuous and probably a bit jazzier too. Tracks like 'I Just Go' and the smoldering 'Desire' take loping loops that beat like a heart and juxtapose them against a timeless voice and otherworldly production where every timbre echoes into the ephemeral glow of the city....and beyond.
