4 The Skatalites helped usher in the modern age of Jamaican music in the early 1960s by mixing American R&B with jazz chops and funky rhythms with the island’s African-derived folk music. The musicians comprised the house band for Studio One, and they moonlighted for countless other producers, but it wasn’t until 1964, a few years after they helped create ska music, that they took on the name Skatalites. In Orbit was recorded in September 2005 during two concerts in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The sound is good and the crowd is excited, but considering that it’s yet another greatest-hits-set list and only Lloyd Knibb (drums) and Lester Sterling (alto sax) are left from the original core lineup, it’s hard to get excited about this CD. Vocalist Doreen Shaffer, who sang frequently for the Skatalites in the 1960s, sounds shaky on “Sugar, Sugar,” “Can’t You See,” “You’re Wondering Now” and “Adorable You.” But the instrumental cuts still pop: “El Pussycat” has one of the most joyous two-chord vamps you’ll ever hear, and the pumping “Latin Goes Ska” features Sterling quoting his famous tune “Bangarang.” The Skatalites’ music is so elemental and appealing that it’s hard not to find plenty to like on In Orbit. It’s not that the CD is bad; it’s just unnecessary. Those who want to hear the Skatalites—the full band, in their prime—would be better served by getting a few compilations. Foundation Ska is a great double-disc collection of original recordings by the group, and the newly reissued Ska Bonanza: The Studio One Ska Years is an outstanding two-CD collection of early 1960s Jamaican music, featuring Skatalites musicians on numerous tunes. Ska Bonanza is an expanded and remastered reissue of a set that’s been floating around since 1991, and it includes crucial tunes like “Man in the Street” by Don Drummond (the Skatalites’ original trombonist and the band’s greatest jazz musician) and “Spread Satin” by Roland Alphonso (the Skatalites’ original tenor saxophonist, along with Tommy McCook, who was the leader of the group). Well-annotated and in good sound, Ska Bonanza is the perfect introduction to the roots of reggae. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17462 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

The Skatalites helped usher in the modern age of Jamaican music in the early 1960s by mixing American R&B with jazz chops and funky rhythms with the island’s African-derived folk music. The musicians comprised the house band for Studio One, and they moonlighted for countless other producers, but it wasn’t until 1964, a few years after they helped create ska music, that they took on the name Skatalites. In Orbit was recorded in September 2005 during two concerts in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The sound is good and the crowd is excited, but considering that it’s yet another greatest-hits-set list and only Lloyd Knibb (drums) and Lester Sterling (alto sax) are left from the original core lineup, it’s hard to get excited about this CD. Vocalist Doreen Shaffer, who sang frequently for the Skatalites in the 1960s, sounds shaky on “Sugar, Sugar,” “Can’t You See,” “You’re Wondering Now” and “Adorable You.” But the instrumental cuts still pop: “El Pussycat” has one of the most joyous two-chord vamps you’ll ever hear, and the pumping “Latin Goes Ska” features Sterling quoting his famous tune “Bangarang.” The Skatalites’ music is so elemental and appealing that it’s hard not to find plenty to like on In Orbit. It’s not that the CD is bad; it’s just unnecessary. Those who want to hear the Skatalites—the full band, in their prime—would be better served by getting a few compilations. Foundation Ska is a great double-disc collection of original recordings by the group, and the newly reissued Ska Bonanza: The Studio One Ska Years...

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 You may not have heard of the production team called the Basement Boys, but you’ve likely heard their work if you turned on the radio in the past 16 years. They’ve remixed Paula Abdul, Michael Jackson, Erykah Badu and they co-wrote Crystal Waters’ “Gypsy Woman.” (C’mon, everybody: “La da dee, la da da”). Considering the Basement Boys’ greatest successes came in the 1990s, it’s not surprising that the duo’s Mudfoot Jones project sounds like it’s comin’ straight outta 1991. Built on the cringe-worthy premise of being a collaborative album with a “legendary” Louisiana blues musician, Mudfoot Jones could be considered a jazzy house-music companion to Moby’s 1999 album Play, which sampled gospel and blues tunes and singers to great effect. But where Play reveled in the hooks inherent in the styles it sampled, Mudfoot Jones is all about the repetitive dance-club beat—and repetitive it is repetitive it is repetitive it is…. Much of the CD features good ideas that are never developed. “Boomerang” is a simple modal number that hints at jazz but fades out before doing anything jazzlike. “Swingin’” is all build up for a Cab Calloway-like big-band number that never comes. “That Jazz” features a large quote from “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)”—and that’s pretty much it. Still, this album would sound great playing at a party or thumping in a club. Then again, a lot of music sounds better when you don’t pay much attention to it. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17463 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

You may not have heard of the production team called the Basement Boys, but you’ve likely heard their work if you turned on the radio in the past 16 years. They’ve remixed Paula Abdul, Michael Jackson, Erykah Badu and they co-wrote Crystal Waters’ “Gypsy Woman.” (C’mon, everybody: “La da dee, la da da”). Considering the Basement Boys’ greatest successes came in the 1990s, it’s not surprising that the duo’s Mudfoot Jones project sounds like it’s comin’ straight outta 1991. Built on the cringe-worthy premise of being a collaborative album with a “legendary” Louisiana blues musician, Mudfoot Jones could be considered a jazzy house-music companion to Moby’s 1999 album Play, which sampled gospel and blues tunes and singers to great effect. But where Play reveled in the hooks inherent in the styles it sampled, Mudfoot Jones is all about the repetitive dance-club beat—and repetitive it is repetitive it is repetitive it is…. Much of the CD features good ideas that are never developed. “Boomerang” is a simple modal number that hints at jazz but fades out before doing anything jazzlike. “Swingin’” is all build up for a Cab Calloway-like big-band number that never comes. “That Jazz” features a large quote from “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)”—and that’s pretty much it. Still, this album would sound great playing at a party or thumping in a club. Then again, a lot of music sounds better when you don’t pay much attention to it.

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 Groove Collective can’t decide if it wants to play funk, Latin or jazz on its first album in five years. While the band has always flitted between styles, its strength isn’t jazz, it’s funk. Too much of People People Music Music attempts to be the former rather than the latter, and consequently the CD sounds tepid. “Eat No Space” is an ambient smooth-jazz ballad. “Tito” is dedicated to Puente, but it’s a half-hearted tune that never picks up momentum. Herbie Hancock’s “Speak Like a Child” is all ambiance, not art. The best tune, by far, is “DFU,” where Groove Collective lives up to its name and plays to its strength as a smoking funk band. Guest Fred Wesley (trombone) and Liberty Ellman (guitar) help give the cut the sort of pepper-hot spirit that’s missing from the rest of the disc. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17464 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

Groove Collective can’t decide if it wants to play funk, Latin or jazz on its first album in five years. While the band has always flitted between styles, its strength isn’t jazz, it’s funk. Too much of People People Music Music attempts to be the former rather than the latter, and consequently the CD sounds tepid. “Eat No Space” is an ambient smooth-jazz ballad. “Tito” is dedicated to Puente, but it’s a half-hearted tune that never picks up momentum. Herbie Hancock’s “Speak Like a Child” is all ambiance, not art. The best tune, by far, is “DFU,” where Groove Collective lives up to its name and plays to its strength as a smoking funk band. Guest Fred Wesley (trombone) and Liberty Ellman (guitar) help give the cut the sort of pepper-hot spirit that’s missing from the rest of the disc.

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 When Kieran Hebden and Steve Reid went into the studio to jam, it seemed like a mismatch. Hebden usually records under the name Four Tet, creating percussion-driven electronica based on samples, analog electronics and plenty of postproduction. While he’s a talented rock guitarist, he probably couldn’t cut it in a jazz jam session. Meanwhile, Reid is a jazz and funk drummer whose credits include everyone from Miles Davis to James Brown. But the first volume of The Exchange Session was an artistic success, with the two synching up and grooving in the spirit of 1970s loft-jazz/funk to create large-scale jams that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Sun Ra record. This second volume isn’t so successful. It features three tracks that run 20, 17 and 16 minutes each, and there are very few minutes where the two sound like they’re playing off each other—most of the CD sounds like free-form bashing. Reid is able to play off his vast rhythmic knowledge in an attempt to keep things moving, but Hebden slips into the noisy knob-twiddler role all too often. Even so, these two are kindred spirits, and there’s no denying they achieved some great moments during their three-day recording session. Unfortunately, they all ended up on Volume One. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17465 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

When Kieran Hebden and Steve Reid went into the studio to jam, it seemed like a mismatch. Hebden usually records under the name Four Tet, creating percussion-driven electronica based on samples, analog electronics and plenty of postproduction. While he’s a talented rock guitarist, he probably couldn’t cut it in a jazz jam session. Meanwhile, Reid is a jazz and funk drummer whose credits include everyone from Miles Davis to James Brown. But the first volume of The Exchange Session was an artistic success, with the two synching up and grooving in the spirit of 1970s loft-jazz/funk to create large-scale jams that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Sun Ra record. This second volume isn’t so successful. It features three tracks that run 20, 17 and 16 minutes each, and there are very few minutes where the two sound like they’re playing off each other—most of the CD sounds like free-form bashing. Reid is able to play off his vast rhythmic knowledge in an attempt to keep things moving, but Hebden slips into the noisy knob-twiddler role all too often. Even so, these two are kindred spirits, and there’s no denying they achieved some great moments during their three-day recording session. Unfortunately, they all ended up on Volume One.

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 Matthew Herbert is an ideologue. Like Lars von Trier did with his Dogme 95 rules for filmmaking, Herbert constructed the Personal Contract for the Composition of Music (Incorporating the Manifesto of Mistakes) in 2000. He doesn’t allow himself to use synthesizer presets, samples of other music or synthesized sounds that imitate instruments. Instead, like musique concrète, Herbert builds his luxuriant electronica albums by making samples—720 appear on Scale—from numerous sound sources and then warps them into melodies and rhythms. While all that might be interesting to the eggheads, listeners are more likely to care about the results of the process, not the process itself. Well, dear listener, this egghead says you will be happy with Scale if you’re a fan of Prince, disco, art rock and experimental electronica. Many of the songs sound like the vocals have been influenced by Prince, especially the discofied “Moving Like a Train,” where higher- and lower-pitched crooning surround Dani Siciliano’s middle-register singing. The music is generally string-heavy (or whatever it is Herbert is using to imitate strings), giving the CD a plush harmonic bed. The rhythms groove but it’s the melodies and voices that dominate. This serves Herbert’s political purposes on songs like “The Movers and the Shakers,” which features the lyrics, “I just don’t know how to bring about your downfall/Damn fool/Go figure out/ How those Christian bones/Can orchestrate/Shock and awe.” Because the words are cooingly sung by Siciliano and Neil Thomas, you might think you’re listening to a love song and not a condemnation of the Bush administration. It’s another example of Herbert’s skill at turning things inside out, taking one meaning or sound and twisting it into another. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17466 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

Matthew Herbert is an ideologue. Like Lars von Trier did with his Dogme 95 rules for filmmaking, Herbert constructed the Personal Contract for the Composition of Music (Incorporating the Manifesto of Mistakes) in 2000. He doesn’t allow himself to use synthesizer presets, samples of other music or synthesized sounds that imitate instruments. Instead, like musique concrète, Herbert builds his luxuriant electronica albums by making samples—720 appear on Scale—from numerous sound sources and then warps them into melodies and rhythms. While all that might be interesting to the eggheads, listeners are more likely to care about the results of the process, not the process itself. Well, dear listener, this egghead says you will be happy with Scale if you’re a fan of Prince, disco, art rock and experimental electronica. Many of the songs sound like the vocals have been influenced by Prince, especially the discofied “Moving Like a Train,” where higher- and lower-pitched crooning surround Dani Siciliano’s middle-register singing. The music is generally string-heavy (or whatever it is Herbert is using to imitate strings), giving the CD a plush harmonic bed. The rhythms groove but it’s the melodies and voices that dominate. This serves Herbert’s political purposes on songs like “The Movers and the Shakers,” which features the lyrics, “I just don’t know how to bring about your downfall/Damn fool/Go figure out/ How those Christian bones/Can orchestrate/Shock and awe.” Because the words are cooingly sung by Siciliano and Neil Thomas, you might think you’re listening to a love song and not a condemnation of the Bush administration....

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 NOMO—the band dem-ands all caps—is all about Fela Kuti. But unlike Brooklyn’s Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra, who seem like they’ve been beamed straight from Nigeria circa 1974, Michigan’s NOMO adds enough experimental jazz and various strains of West African music to create its own sound. In many ways, NOMO is continuing the legacy of Detroit’s 1970s TRIBE collective, which mixed jazz, funk and Africana to assert its black-political identity. While bandleader Elliot Bergman isn’t of African descent, he’s absorbed the music of the Motherland and its diaspora like a 4.0 student. He mixes various strains of great black music into a single blazing sun of sound, and right from the distorted sounds of the amplified kalimba (thumb piano) that open the CD, you know NOMO is going to hit you with a hip-swiveling blast of righteous Afro-funk. The music is densely polyrhythmic, with homemade percussion instruments nervously chattering away like mutant crickets on tracks such as “Fourth Ward” and “Nu Tones.” “Divisions” has a Latin bent and a brassy backside, and “Book of Right On” has a woozy, dubby quality because of the roomy recording style. New Tones closes with the percussion hymnal “Sarvodaya,” a song that could have come out of the Arkestra catalog. Sun Ra would call it cosmic tones for mental therapy. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17467 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

NOMO—the band dem-ands all caps—is all about Fela Kuti. But unlike Brooklyn’s Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra, who seem like they’ve been beamed straight from Nigeria circa 1974, Michigan’s NOMO adds enough experimental jazz and various strains of West African music to create its own sound. In many ways, NOMO is continuing the legacy of Detroit’s 1970s TRIBE collective, which mixed jazz, funk and Africana to assert its black-political identity. While bandleader Elliot Bergman isn’t of African descent, he’s absorbed the music of the Motherland and its diaspora like a 4.0 student. He mixes various strains of great black music into a single blazing sun of sound, and right from the distorted sounds of the amplified kalimba (thumb piano) that open the CD, you know NOMO is going to hit you with a hip-swiveling blast of righteous Afro-funk. The music is densely polyrhythmic, with homemade percussion instruments nervously chattering away like mutant crickets on tracks such as “Fourth Ward” and “Nu Tones.” “Divisions” has a Latin bent and a brassy backside, and “Book of Right On” has a woozy, dubby quality because of the roomy recording style. New Tones closes with the percussion hymnal “Sarvodaya,” a song that could have come out of the Arkestra catalog. Sun Ra would call it cosmic tones for mental therapy.

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 While trombonist Rico Rodriguez left Jamaica for England just as ska was taking off, he’s always been seen as part of the musical foundation of the Caribbean’s second-most influential island. (All respect to Cuba.) Togetherness is a good-sounding live recording made in 2000 and 2001 in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Jamaican music is huge in many Spanish-speaking countries, and the Roots to the Bone Band (featuring members of four Argentinean ska and reggae bands) lays down deep and authentic grooves for Rodriguez to solo over. Most of the CD consists of Rodriguez originals like the slow-moving “This Day,” the peppier “Some Day” and the bluesy “Jam Rock,” but the man from Wareika also covers “Eastern Standard Time” by his fellow Jamaican trombone legend Don Drummond. Also not from Rodriguez’s pen: The dancing ska of “Eastern Island” is credited to “Sado Wattanobe,” who may or may not be the Japanese saxophonist Sadao Watanabe (though I couldn’t find a tune called “Eastern Island” is his catalog). And the old television theme for Dr. Kildare gets updated to a jumping ska number. While Togetherness is a decent intro to Rodriguez’s music, it’s geared more toward connoisseurs of ska and reggae who just can’t get enough. Trombone Man: Anthology 1961–1971 (Trojan) is a 52-track collection featuring some of Rodriguez’s greatest recordings. Once you’ve digested that, latch onto Togetherness. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17468 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

While trombonist Rico Rodriguez left Jamaica for England just as ska was taking off, he’s always been seen as part of the musical foundation of the Caribbean’s second-most influential island. (All respect to Cuba.) Togetherness is a good-sounding live recording made in 2000 and 2001 in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Jamaican music is huge in many Spanish-speaking countries, and the Roots to the Bone Band (featuring members of four Argentinean ska and reggae bands) lays down deep and authentic grooves for Rodriguez to solo over. Most of the CD consists of Rodriguez originals like the slow-moving “This Day,” the peppier “Some Day” and the bluesy “Jam Rock,” but the man from Wareika also covers “Eastern Standard Time” by his fellow Jamaican trombone legend Don Drummond. Also not from Rodriguez’s pen: The dancing ska of “Eastern Island” is credited to “Sado Wattanobe,” who may or may not be the Japanese saxophonist Sadao Watanabe (though I couldn’t find a tune called “Eastern Island” is his catalog). And the old television theme for Dr. Kildare gets updated to a jumping ska number. While Togetherness is a decent intro to Rodriguez’s music, it’s geared more toward connoisseurs of ska and reggae who just can’t get enough. Trombone Man: Anthology 1961–1971 (Trojan) is a 52-track collection featuring some of Rodriguez’s greatest recordings. Once you’ve digested that, latch onto Togetherness.

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 With the jazz demographic getting older and older, more and more mainstream labels are turning their attention to the dancefloor in order to capture younger ears. Savoy had already released a CD by the English dance-pop trio Saint Etienne, but Cafe D’Afrique is the first release on the label’s new Worldwide imprint for electronic music. Dino Moran and Mother Nature’s “Vuna” is the track that sounds the most like kwaito, South Africa’s indigenous-steeped take on European house music. Unfortunately, there’s little else on the CD that resembles kwaito—a shame since so little of that genre has been released in the U.S. The rest of Café D’Afrique sounds like European and U.S. music from the 1990s. Steady Wisdom’s “The People vs. Life” and Social Scientist’s “Mood Blender” evoke early 1990s ambient house. “Hands On a Miracle” by Newtown and featuring Amy Elle is a power ballad that could easily be a Shania Twain hit 10 years ago. D’Sound’s “Give It All Back” and Iridium Project’s “Into the Sky” are pretty close to straight-up R&B balladry. Goldfish’s “Dream,” Joe Public’s “Why Do You Love Me?” and Ellora Ghosh’s “How Do You?” sound like torch-bearing downtempo tracks from the mid-1990s. Cofield Mundi’s “Count Me Out” has a 1995 feel as well, but it’s also got a great big hook. This great song is somewhere between Portishead and Sia’s “Breathe Me,” the tune that played as Six Feet Under’s last episode faded to black. It’s also the best tune on Café D’Afrique. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17469 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

With the jazz demographic getting older and older, more and more mainstream labels are turning their attention to the dancefloor in order to capture younger ears. Savoy had already released a CD by the English dance-pop trio Saint Etienne, but Cafe D’Afrique is the first release on the label’s new Worldwide imprint for electronic music. Dino Moran and Mother Nature’s “Vuna” is the track that sounds the most like kwaito, South Africa’s indigenous-steeped take on European house music. Unfortunately, there’s little else on the CD that resembles kwaito—a shame since so little of that genre has been released in the U.S. The rest of Café D’Afrique sounds like European and U.S. music from the 1990s. Steady Wisdom’s “The People vs. Life” and Social Scientist’s “Mood Blender” evoke early 1990s ambient house. “Hands On a Miracle” by Newtown and featuring Amy Elle is a power ballad that could easily be a Shania Twain hit 10 years ago. D’Sound’s “Give It All Back” and Iridium Project’s “Into the Sky” are pretty close to straight-up R&B balladry. Goldfish’s “Dream,” Joe Public’s “Why Do You Love Me?” and Ellora Ghosh’s “How Do You?” sound like torch-bearing downtempo tracks from the mid-1990s. Cofield Mundi’s “Count Me Out” has a 1995 feel as well, but it’s also got a great big hook. This great song is somewhere between Portishead and Sia’s “Breathe Me,” the tune that played as Six Feet Under’s last episode faded to black. It’s also the best tune on Café D’Afrique.

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 Producers used to sample old jazz LPs on the fly and hope nobody noticed. Well, they did notice, and jazz labels started commissioning remix projects. It seems like the trend would have played itself out—and it pretty much has from an artistic standpoint—but these CDs keep coming off the presses. One of the latest vault excavations comes courtesy of Savoy’s Worldwide label for jazzy electronica. Rebop features 13 agreeable tracks, but only three get the added adjective “addictive.” The Quantic remix of “Moose the Mooche” is a fantastic mix of new and old. Charlie Parker’s low-fi but high-quality sax gasses along in the background as a killer beat jumps up under it and Will Holland’s overdubbed guitar plugs right along. DJ Spooky’s take on Parker’s “Koko” features the manic energy of the original with edgy edits that highlight the song’s clipped melody lines and massive drum rolls. And the Coup’s Boots Riley turns Dizzy Gillespie’s “Shaw Nuff” into a ghetto fabulous if slightly cheesy booty-bass mix. Other nice interpretations come from DJ Jazzy Jeff (“Night in Tunisia” by Duke Jordan), DJ Logic (“Night and Day” by Red Norvo) and Eclipse (“Movin’ Nicely” by the Modern Jazz Quartet), but on the whole Rebop doesn’t add up to the sum of its legendary parts. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17470 107 200611 true 0 57 2006-11-01T00:00:00-05:00

Producers used to sample old jazz LPs on the fly and hope nobody noticed. Well, they did notice, and jazz labels started commissioning remix projects. It seems like the trend would have played itself out—and it pretty much has from an artistic standpoint—but these CDs keep coming off the presses. One of the latest vault excavations comes courtesy of Savoy’s Worldwide label for jazzy electronica. Rebop features 13 agreeable tracks, but only three get the added adjective “addictive.” The Quantic remix of “Moose the Mooche” is a fantastic mix of new and old. Charlie Parker’s low-fi but high-quality sax gasses along in the background as a killer beat jumps up under it and Will Holland’s overdubbed guitar plugs right along. DJ Spooky’s take on Parker’s “Koko” features the manic energy of the original with edgy edits that highlight the song’s clipped melody lines and massive drum rolls. And the Coup’s Boots Riley turns Dizzy Gillespie’s “Shaw Nuff” into a ghetto fabulous if slightly cheesy booty-bass mix. Other nice interpretations come from DJ Jazzy Jeff (“Night in Tunisia” by Duke Jordan), DJ Logic (“Night and Day” by Red Norvo) and Eclipse (“Movin’ Nicely” by the Modern Jazz Quartet), but on the whole Rebop doesn’t add up to the sum of its legendary parts.

2009-03-02T00:25:53-05:00

4 Lou Donaldson’s Alligator Bogaloo was such a big soul-jazz hit in 1967 that the formula was still set for this 1968 LP: Don’t do much harmonically—all five tracks are in blues-boogie mode, even standards like “Summertime” and “Caravan”—but do groove like mofos. It’s hard to out-funk James Brown, and the title track is a pleasant if half-hearted effort: When Donaldson shouts “Say it again” the guys respond “I’m black I’m proud” like they’ve been told to repeat what the teacher said. But Donaldson’s “Snake Bone” features the band at its most active and inspired. Idris “Leo Morris” Muhammad’s snare positively crackles, his beats all loose-limbed skipping over the drum head. Guitarist Jimmy Ponder’s solo sums up all his skills, from nasty blues licks to octave swarms, plus dirty hammer-ons and pull-offs. Organist Charles “The Mighty Burner” Earland lets loose with skittering melody lines and crowd-rousing drones and swells during his solo. Blue Mitchell’s ringing, pure soul trumpet tone punches through the mix, and Donaldson—playing an alto sax augmented by a Varitone electronic attachment for a slightly fuller, reverbier sound—is his usual funked-up self. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 16023 94 200509 true 0 57 2005-09-01T00:00:00-04:00

Lou Donaldson’s Alligator Bogaloo was such a big soul-jazz hit in 1967 that the formula was still set for this 1968 LP: Don’t do much harmonically—all five tracks are in blues-boogie mode, even standards like “Summertime” and “Caravan”—but do groove like mofos. It’s hard to out-funk James Brown, and the title track is a pleasant if half-hearted effort: When Donaldson shouts “Say it again” the guys respond “I’m black I’m proud” like they’ve been told to repeat what the teacher said. But Donaldson’s “Snake Bone” features the band at its most active and inspired. Idris “Leo Morris” Muhammad’s snare positively crackles, his beats all loose-limbed skipping over the drum head. Guitarist Jimmy Ponder’s solo sums up all his skills, from nasty blues licks to octave swarms, plus dirty hammer-ons and pull-offs. Organist Charles “The Mighty Burner” Earland lets loose with skittering melody lines and crowd-rousing drones and swells during his solo. Blue Mitchell’s ringing, pure soul trumpet tone punches through the mix, and Donaldson—playing an alto sax augmented by a Varitone electronic attachment for a slightly fuller, reverbier sound—is his usual funked-up self.

2009-03-02T00:24:56-05:00

4 These three compilations are subtitled The Original Jam Master, and they take their cuts from Green’s last six records for Blue Note: Carryin’ On (1969), Green Is Beautiful (1970), Alive! (1970), Visions (1971), Shades of Green (1971), The Final Comedown (1971) and Live at the Lighthouse (1972). Each volume shares the same introductory liner notes by Bob Porter who then goes on to provide brief track-by-track analysis for each disc. For such a thematic compilation of a specific period of Green’s career, a three-CD box set—or a box set of all seven original LPs, since not all the records are in print—might have made better packaging sense (if worse economic). But as snapshots of Green’s late Blue Note career, these are fine portraits indeed. Ain’t It Funky Now! is the strongest of the three discs on the merit of the James Brown title track alone (originally on Green Is Beautiful). Idris Muhammad lays down some severe boom-bap, augmented by Candido (congas) and Richard Landrum (bongos), proving he’s just about the funkiest jazz drummer ever. For more evidence proceed to the group’s take on Kool and the Gang’s “Let the Music Take Your Mind” (from Alive!). Whiplash will ensue. The other five songs are also interpretations of the day’s soul hits, and that is the main difference between Ain’t It Funky Now! and For the Funk of It, which spotlights compositions by Green, his bandmates and arrangers. The truth is, Green wasn’t much of a composer in the traditional sense, basing his tunes more on simple, groovy riffs rather than harmonic intricacies. But for dancing, boogaloos like “Upshot” (Carryin’ On) and “California Green” (Shades of Green) do just fine. Other booty-shakers include the title track to the movie soundtrack The Final Comedown, the 15-minute killer “Flood in Franklin Park” (Live at the Lighthouse) and “Cantaloupe Woman” (Visions), written by Green’s former drummer, Ben Dixon, and first recorded by the guitarist on his 1965 Verve album His Majesty, King Funk. The only song that avoids the funk is the Latin-disco number “Dracula” (Green Is Beautiful). While Mellow Madness is as advertised, it’s my least favorite of these comps—and it’s still fab. Green was a great melodic guitarist, as he proves on “Cease the Bombing” (Carryin’ On), “Maiden Voyage” (Alive!), “A Day in the Life” (Green Is Beautiful), “Down Hear on the Ground” (Alive!) and “Fancy Free” (Live at the Lighthouse), but I prefer him in stankier settings. Wes Montgomery is wonderful, and it’s hard to beat early George Benson, but Green was the premier jazz-funk guitarist. Some think this sort of soul-jazz is an artistic cul de sac. If that’s the case, build my home right at the end of it. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 16024 94 200509 true 0 57 2005-09-01T00:00:00-04:00

These three compilations are subtitled The Original Jam Master, and they take their cuts from Green’s last six records for Blue Note: Carryin’ On (1969), Green Is Beautiful (1970), Alive! (1970), Visions (1971), Shades of Green (1971), The Final Comedown (1971) and Live at the Lighthouse (1972). Each volume shares the same introductory liner notes by Bob Porter who then goes on to provide brief track-by-track analysis for each disc. For such a thematic compilation of a specific period of Green’s career, a three-CD box set—or a box set of all seven original LPs, since not all the records are in print—might have made better packaging sense (if worse economic). But as snapshots of Green’s late Blue Note career, these are fine portraits indeed. Ain’t It Funky Now! is the strongest of the three discs on the merit of the James Brown title track alone (originally on Green Is Beautiful). Idris Muhammad lays down some severe boom-bap, augmented by Candido (congas) and Richard Landrum (bongos), proving he’s just about the funkiest jazz drummer ever. For more evidence proceed to the group’s take on Kool and the Gang’s “Let the Music Take Your Mind” (from Alive!). Whiplash will ensue. The other five songs are also interpretations of the day’s soul hits, and that is the main difference between Ain’t It Funky Now! and For the Funk of It, which spotlights compositions by Green, his bandmates and arrangers. The truth is, Green wasn’t much of a composer in the traditional sense, basing his tunes more on simple, groovy...

2009-03-02T00:24:56-05:00

4 A Celebration was released in Europe in 2004 to celebrate Abdullah Ibrahim’s 70th birthday, and its 13 songs spotlight the incredible pianist’s multifaceted, 35-year tenure with the Enja label. From solo pieces (“The Perfumed Garden Wet With Rain,” “Ancient Cape”) and duets (“Ntsikana’s Bell,” “Saud,” “Earth Bird”) to trio numbers (“Ishmael”) and beyond (“Imam,” “African Market Place,” “The Mountain,” “Siya Hamba Namhlanje,” “Mannenberg Revisited,” “Mindif”), Ibrahim incorporates everything from South African dance music and European classical to jazz swing and worldly discursions. A Celebration is a fine introduction, but those who already possess a bulging Ibrahim CD collection should feel free to skip it as there’s only one rare-ish track: an edited version of “Ishmael,” featuring Ibrahim on soprano sax and piano with drummer Roy Brooks and bassist Cecil McBee, from the Enja compilation The More We Know. In fact, I prefer the version of “Ishmael” on Re:Brahim by Stefan Rogall of Sonar Kollectiv. The bass is sped up, and rather than being a Middle East meditation it becomes an Arabic-style dance tune. Other tracks the two discs have in common are the bass-groove driven “Calypso Minor” (albeit the one on A Celebration is merely a slight remix of the one on Re:Brahim) and “Mindif,” which is given two new treatments on the remix CD: a big band version by Philipp Winter, which sounds like something out of Matthew Herbert’s jazztronica bag, and a trio version by DJ Spooky that turns the beautiful tune into stuttering hip-hop. Other solid numbers on this surprisingly worthy CD include Motorcitysoul’s samba-ambient mix of “Damara Blue,” Christian Frommer’s broken-beat version of “Sweet Samba” and Toshio Matsuura’s dubby, slow-waltz take on “Did You Hear That Sound?” Only “Blues for a Hip King” falters because Kinderzimmer Productions jams rigid, trembly hip-hoppy beats behind the gorgeous original, which constantly shifts tempo and defies facile rhythms. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 16025 94 200509 true 0 57 2005-09-01T00:00:00-04:00

A Celebration was released in Europe in 2004 to celebrate Abdullah Ibrahim’s 70th birthday, and its 13 songs spotlight the incredible pianist’s multifaceted, 35-year tenure with the Enja label. From solo pieces (“The Perfumed Garden Wet With Rain,” “Ancient Cape”) and duets (“Ntsikana’s Bell,” “Saud,” “Earth Bird”) to trio numbers (“Ishmael”) and beyond (“Imam,” “African Market Place,” “The Mountain,” “Siya Hamba Namhlanje,” “Mannenberg Revisited,” “Mindif”), Ibrahim incorporates everything from South African dance music and European classical to jazz swing and worldly discursions. A Celebration is a fine introduction, but those who already possess a bulging Ibrahim CD collection should feel free to skip it as there’s only one rare-ish track: an edited version of “Ishmael,” featuring Ibrahim on soprano sax and piano with drummer Roy Brooks and bassist Cecil McBee, from the Enja compilation The More We Know. In fact, I prefer the version of “Ishmael” on Re:Brahim by Stefan Rogall of Sonar Kollectiv. The bass is sped up, and rather than being a Middle East meditation it becomes an Arabic-style dance tune. Other tracks the two discs have in common are the bass-groove driven “Calypso Minor” (albeit the one on A Celebration is merely a slight remix of the one on Re:Brahim) and “Mindif,” which is given two new treatments on the remix CD: a big band version by Philipp Winter, which sounds like something out of Matthew Herbert’s jazztronica bag, and a trio version by DJ Spooky that turns the beautiful tune into stuttering hip-hop. Other solid numbers on this surprisingly worthy CD include...

2009-03-02T00:24:56-05:00

4 I wanted to like this reissue of 1964’s Brown Sugar so much more than I do because organist Freddie Roach’s liner notes are so poetic, so earnest. He describes how he wanted to do “soul show tunes” for the “dancers in my head,” but they must be slow hoofers because much of Brown Sugar has a muggy quality to it, usually due to drummer Clarence Johnston. On the Roach-penned title track and “Next Time You See Me” Johnston plays with almost 1930s-style rigidity to his not-quite-funky-enough drumming. Also on “Brown Sugar,” Eddie Wright’s muddy guitar fights tonally with Roach’s organ during certain sections. The band fares better on the slow-blues “The Right Time,” which is highlighted by Joe Henderson’s deep, soulful tenor sax. “Have You Ever Had the Blues?” is straight-up period soul-jazz, with Roach leading on the ensemble and solo sections and Johnston sounding like a sorta-funky robot. Quincy Jones’ “The Midnight Sun Will Never Set” is sweet-natured schmaltz in this group’s hands, with only Henderson’s breathy tenor lines taking the tune away from the skating-rink crowd it seems geared toward. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 16026 94 200509 true 0 57 2005-09-01T00:00:00-04:00

I wanted to like this reissue of 1964’s Brown Sugar so much more than I do because organist Freddie Roach’s liner notes are so poetic, so earnest. He describes how he wanted to do “soul show tunes” for the “dancers in my head,” but they must be slow hoofers because much of Brown Sugar has a muggy quality to it, usually due to drummer Clarence Johnston. On the Roach-penned title track and “Next Time You See Me” Johnston plays with almost 1930s-style rigidity to his not-quite-funky-enough drumming. Also on “Brown Sugar,” Eddie Wright’s muddy guitar fights tonally with Roach’s organ during certain sections. The band fares better on the slow-blues “The Right Time,” which is highlighted by Joe Henderson’s deep, soulful tenor sax. “Have You Ever Had the Blues?” is straight-up period soul-jazz, with Roach leading on the ensemble and solo sections and Johnston sounding like a sorta-funky robot. Quincy Jones’ “The Midnight Sun Will Never Set” is sweet-natured schmaltz in this group’s hands, with only Henderson’s breathy tenor lines taking the tune away from the skating-rink crowd it seems geared toward.

2009-03-02T00:24:56-05:00

4 Soul Jazz has built its rep on crate-digging some of the best in lost and classic reggae, Latin, soul, disco and funk, and putting them out in nice compilations with plenty of photos and informative liner notes. But the label has also delved into the groovier side of avant-jazz with comps that celebrate the Strata East and Tribe labels. With the double-disc New Thing!, Soul Jazz stretches from Sun Ra’s 1956 tune “Angels and Demons at Play” up to the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s 1984 piece “Funky AECO” to show that even the noisy avant-garde liked to get down sometimes—on the dance floor and in meditative thought. On the soul side there’s Archie Shepp (1971’s “Money Blues, Part One”), Travis Biggs (1976’s “Tibetan Serenity”), Lloyd McNeil (1970’s “Home Rule”), Robert Rockwell III (1974’s “Androids”), Eddie Gale (1969’s “Black Rhythm Happening”), and Steve Davis (1969’s “Lalune Blanche”). Those on the inner-soul journeys include Amina Claudine Myers (1979’s “Have Mercy Upon Us), Paris Smith (1983’s “Pentatonia”), Rashied Ali and Frank Lowe (1972’s “Duo Exchange, Part 2”). Then there’s those who float between funky sounds and expansive vision, such as Hannibal and Sunrise Orchestra (1974’s “Forest Sunrise”), Stanley Cowell (1978’s “El Space-O”), East New York Ensemble of Music (1974’s “Little Sunflower”) and Alice Coltrane (1972’s “A Love Supreme”). But the best track is Maulawi’s roiling “Street Rap,” which sounds like an outtake from On the Corner and includes staged chatter from potential explosive situations in the inner city. true 148 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 16027 94 200509 true 0 57 2005-09-01T00:00:00-04:00

Soul Jazz has built its rep on crate-digging some of the best in lost and classic reggae, Latin, soul, disco and funk, and putting them out in nice compilations with plenty of photos and informative liner notes. But the label has also delved into the groovier side of avant-jazz with comps that celebrate the Strata East and Tribe labels. With the double-disc New Thing!, Soul Jazz stretches from Sun Ra’s 1956 tune “Angels and Demons at Play” up to the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s 1984 piece “Funky AECO” to show that even the noisy avant-garde liked to get down sometimes—on the dance floor and in meditative thought. On the soul side there’s Archie Shepp (1971’s “Money Blues, Part One”), Travis Biggs (1976’s “Tibetan Serenity”), Lloyd McNeil (1970’s “Home Rule”), Robert Rockwell III (1974’s “Androids”), Eddie Gale (1969’s “Black Rhythm Happening”), and Steve Davis (1969’s “Lalune Blanche”). Those on the inner-soul journeys include Amina Claudine Myers (1979’s “Have Mercy Upon Us), Paris Smith (1983’s “Pentatonia”), Rashied Ali and Frank Lowe (1972’s “Duo Exchange, Part 2”). Then there’s those who float between funky sounds and expansive vision, such as Hannibal and Sunrise Orchestra (1974’s “Forest Sunrise”), Stanley Cowell (1978’s “El Space-O”), East New York Ensemble of Music (1974’s “Little Sunflower”) and Alice Coltrane (1972’s “A Love Supreme”). But the best track is Maulawi’s roiling “Street Rap,” which sounds like an outtake from On the Corner and includes staged chatter from potential explosive situations in the inner city.

2009-03-02T00:24:56-05:00

4 The New Mixes Vol. I is an intriguing remix project based on the newly reissued album Quincy Jones & Bill Cosby: The Original Jam Sessions 1969 (both on Concord). The remixes sort of pick up where the Dream Warriors left off in 1990 with their daffy hip-hop hit "My Definition of a Boombastic Jazz Style," which sampled Quincy Jones' kitschy "Soul Bossa Nova." Much has changed in the DJ culture since then, but spin The New Mixes a few times and you'll realize some things remain the same. A bulk of these remixes can be mistaken for anonymous, early '90s acid-jazz sides. From the fat, swarming Hammond B3 organ, percolating rhythm guitar and boom-bap kick drums on Mario Caldato Jr.'s "Jimmy's Theme" to the retro-futuristic glitches, popping percussion and French chanteuse on Cornershop's "Valeurs Personelles," there's an old-school hip-hop feel that many would argue sounds dated. That might be the case on some cuts, but the upside is that the remixers are applying hip-hop techniques drawn from its "Golden Age," when the genre was rapidly absorbing a multitude of sonic information and reconfiguring it into brilliant collages. Many of the remixes are built on scraps from Jones' soul-jazz sessions for Bill Cosby's late '60s, early '70s comedy show. Having almost no finished songs to reference, the remixers had more room to interpret the late '60s jam-session vibe that Jones concocted with the likes of Joe Sample, Ray Brown, Paul Humphrey and Arthur Adams without worrying about "defacing" jazz classics. That makes it easier to enjoy, say, Los Amigos Invisibles' Latin disco "Pelando" or Matthew Herbert's art-geek joint "Technically Amateur Mix." But the hokey theme song "Hikky-Burr," featuring Cosby repeating the nonsensical, onomatopoetic title, loses its appeal after one listen. true 22 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 false 15049 84 200410 true 0 57 2004-10-01T00:00:00-04:00

The New Mixes Vol. I is an intriguing remix project based on the newly reissued album Quincy Jones & Bill Cosby: The Original Jam Sessions 1969 (both on Concord). The remixes sort of pick up where the Dream Warriors left off in 1990 with their daffy hip-hop hit "My Definition of a Boombastic Jazz Style," which sampled Quincy Jones' kitschy "Soul Bossa Nova." Much has changed in the DJ culture since then, but spin The New Mixes a few times and you'll realize some things remain the same. A bulk of these remixes can be mistaken for anonymous, early '90s acid-jazz sides. From the fat, swarming Hammond B3 organ, percolating rhythm guitar and boom-bap kick drums on Mario Caldato Jr.'s "Jimmy's Theme" to the retro-futuristic glitches, popping percussion and French chanteuse on Cornershop's "Valeurs Personelles," there's an old-school hip-hop feel that many would argue sounds dated. That might be the case on some cuts, but the upside is that the remixers are applying hip-hop techniques drawn from its "Golden Age," when the genre was rapidly absorbing a multitude of sonic information and reconfiguring it into brilliant collages. Many of the remixes are built on scraps from Jones' soul-jazz sessions for Bill Cosby's late '60s, early '70s comedy show. Having almost no finished songs to reference, the remixers had more room to interpret the late '60s jam-session vibe that Jones concocted with the likes of Joe Sample, Ray Brown, Paul Humphrey and Arthur Adams without worrying about "defacing" jazz classics. That makes it easier to enjoy, say,...

2009-03-02T00:24:06-05:00

4 Leave it up to the Munich's Compost label (Jazzanova, Truby Trio) to come up with the summer's tightest soundtrack of jazz-laden electronica. The eponymous debut by Intuit is Compost's jazz-savviest disc yet. Make no mistake, the production team of drummer Thomas Braun and bassist Till Maragnoli keep the rhythms and grooves firmly rooted in multiculti funk, from Afro-beat ("Wewa" and "Peace of Mind") to Brazilian bounce ("Crianca das Ondas"). But it's the excellent guest appearances of Andy Bey, Dean Bowman, Flora Purim, Ray Obiedo and Airto that elevate the proceedings. Much like how Brit electronica innovators 4Hero craft mesmerizing soundscapes for the likes of Terry Callier and Mark Murphy to sing over, Intuit reinvents Bey as a jazztronica crooner. And judging from "Planet Birth," Intuit knows its jazz history, because the duo constructed a funky groove reminiscent of Gary Bartz's NTU Troop and Horace Silver's Total Response trilogy. Even though the lyrics were penned by Braun and Maragnoli, it's easy to believe that "Planet Birth" is a lost track from Bey's 1970 cult classic Experience and Judgment. He sings of reincarnation over chunky Moog bass line, haunting background vocals, twinkling vibraphones and snappy horns. (Bey also assists Intuit on its Afro-futuristic "Western Sunrise.") In fact, much of Intuit is glorious summation of pan-African futurism with distinct links to the Black Power-ed jazz-funk from influential labels such as Strata-East, Tribe, Flying Dutchman and Cadet. The moody "A New Beginning," featuring galactic vocals from Cecile Verny, sounds like a fantasy session by Sun Ra, Bobby Hutcherson and Rotary Connection. Then there's the melancholy "Let It Flee," featuring urgent pleas from vocalist Dean Bowman, that could easily pass for one of Gil Scott-Heron's urban parables. true 22 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 15050 84 200410 true 0 57 2004-10-01T00:00:00-04:00

Leave it up to the Munich's Compost label (Jazzanova, Truby Trio) to come up with the summer's tightest soundtrack of jazz-laden electronica. The eponymous debut by Intuit is Compost's jazz-savviest disc yet. Make no mistake, the production team of drummer Thomas Braun and bassist Till Maragnoli keep the rhythms and grooves firmly rooted in multiculti funk, from Afro-beat ("Wewa" and "Peace of Mind") to Brazilian bounce ("Crianca das Ondas"). But it's the excellent guest appearances of Andy Bey, Dean Bowman, Flora Purim, Ray Obiedo and Airto that elevate the proceedings. Much like how Brit electronica innovators 4Hero craft mesmerizing soundscapes for the likes of Terry Callier and Mark Murphy to sing over, Intuit reinvents Bey as a jazztronica crooner. And judging from "Planet Birth," Intuit knows its jazz history, because the duo constructed a funky groove reminiscent of Gary Bartz's NTU Troop and Horace Silver's Total Response trilogy. Even though the lyrics were penned by Braun and Maragnoli, it's easy to believe that "Planet Birth" is a lost track from Bey's 1970 cult classic Experience and Judgment. He sings of reincarnation over chunky Moog bass line, haunting background vocals, twinkling vibraphones and snappy horns. (Bey also assists Intuit on its Afro-futuristic "Western Sunrise.") In fact, much of Intuit is glorious summation of pan-African futurism with distinct links to the Black Power-ed jazz-funk from influential labels such as Strata-East, Tribe, Flying Dutchman and Cadet. The moody "A New Beginning," featuring galactic vocals from Cecile Verny, sounds like a fantasy session by Sun Ra, Bobby Hutcherson and Rotary...

2009-03-02T00:24:06-05:00