Document clip from Quincy Jones, Rod Temperton etc. by BBC4
“Rod Temperton’s hardly a household name – in fact, many Jackson fans will have been unaware of him until recent events led to a few mentions in dispatches – but the veteran Englishman wrote many of Jackson’s most famous songs, including Rock With You, Off the Wall and Thriller. And his contribution to pop doesn’t stop there. In fact, it’s Herculean.” Dave Simpson, Guardian
“Read the song titles before you play the record, and prepare to be surprised. “Anything Like Me”: what does that imply? Well, you might think, it could be a song in which a guy interviews an ex-girlfriend about her current boyfriend, moving through stages of emotion: jealous, combative, pathetic, resigned. Not bad. Well, you lose; it’s so much smarter than that. It’s a about a man at the obstetrician’s office. First lines:
I remember saying, I don’t care either way
Just as long as he or she is healthy, I’m O.K.
Then the doctor pointed to the corner of the screen
And said, you see that thing right there? You know what that means.
It’s an acoustic ballad, with fiddle and mandolin, and the vulnerable daydream goes pretty far. It allows that his future son might hate him; it anticipates nostalgia and anxiety about time lost and, on a basic level, appreciates life. The last word, “me,” is sung by Mr. Paisley’s actual son, Huck. Thanks, and enjoy your day. Next!” JON PARELES, NY Times
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The new album again blends his respect for country tradition with unexpected sonic touches (such as the ’80s-sounding Moog synthesizer on “Welcome to the Future”). He’s audibly proud when he talks about using his touring band in the studio rather than session players who create the majority of music that comes out of Nashville.
“American Saturday Night” leads off the collection with the feel of an instant concert centerpiece, an upbeat singalong outlining the myriad threads in the fabric of the nation.
There’s a big toga party tonight down at Delta Chi
They got Canadian bacon on their pizza pie
They’ve got a cooler full of cold Coronas and Amstel Light
Aretha Franklin: I Say A Little Prayer (Live, 1970)
“Everyone was there for one reason, though: to hear Franklin sing. Her voice is one of pop’s wonders, and though it’s no longer the astonishing instrument it was in yer youth, it is still worthy of veneration.
Barn-stormers such as “Respect” gave Franklin some trouble. She just can’t punch out those phrases as she could in her prime. At times, her voice was subsumed by the huge wave of music generated by the full band, orchestra and legion of back-up singers behind her.
Franklin’s longtime musical director, H.B. Barnum, ably kept the troops in line and jumping, and a few players stood out, notably Franklin’s son, Teddy Richards White, on guitar. The most exciting instrumental sound, however, was Franklin’s own piano playing, featured on a swinging new song, “I Adore You,” which she said would be on an album to be released in September.
Franklin relied on the 40-plus musicians onstage with her, not to mention those dancers and a full choir that emerged for a song near the end; their busy presence frequently gave her room to step back and breathe. She recovered by returning to the vernacular forms that underpin her great pop hits. “Today I Sing The Blues,” which she first released in 1961, was even richer now, after 40-plus years. Taking the song from smoky blues to pleading gospel, Franklin inspired many audience members to raise their hands in blessing.
Further sanctification occurred with “Old Landmark,” a gospel shouter that allowed Franklin to show her full powers of spirit-touched improvisation. She connected the song to the civil rights movement by preceding it with a shout-out to Rev. Jesse Jackson, one of several prominent African Americans in her audience. (Others included Billy Dee Williams, Angela Bassett and Halle Berry, who actually came onstage during the encore and knelt at Franklin’s feet.)
Of her most familiar songs, “Ain’t No Way” was the most powerful. As her cousin Brenda White-King sang its eerie high background notes, Franklin expertly phrased this saddest of romantic laments. The burnt-sugar tone of her voice exquisitely suited the mood of this classic.” LA Times
“Maxwell describes “BLACKsummers’night” as the first of three albums, one a year, and the next two have already been written and largely recorded — though he expects to revisit them as his tour band tightens up. “BlackSUMMERS’night,” he said, will be “full-blown gospel, but gospel turned on its head a little bit.” And the final one, “Blacksummers’NIGHT,” is intended to be “the slow jam record of all time, hopefully of all time ever,” he said, chuckling, “like you might have to include condoms in it.”
Three albums in three years would be more prolific than he has ever been. “Hip-hop has marred people’s perspective on music because it comes out so fast,” he said. “Soul music is not like that. It’s not 16 bars. It’s not about the latest sneaker. I’m not here to talk about things that you can specifically go, ‘This is this moment.’ I’m supposed to say something that can be said all the time, no matter when. And that takes a lot of time.”” Jon Pareles, New York Times
“Delmark’s most famous blues release is Mr. Wells’s “Hoodoo Man Blues,” which Mr. Koester produced. Two generations of blues bands have covered nearly every song on that recording, which the All Music Guide describes as “one of the truly classic blues albums of the 1960s” and “absolutely mesmerizing” in its ability to transfer onto tape the feeling of a live performance by a working Chicago blues band.” Larry Rother, New York Times
“Today, in conversation, Helm can sound worrisomely hoarse at times, but he says that his voice is now more than halfway back to what it was. And he sounds great on Dirt Farmer, which mixes up comparatively new songs, such as Steve Earle’s 1999 ”The Mountain,” with a clutch of tunes he was taught by his parents. Helm is also enjoying a Tinseltown renaissance. He made a cameo in this year’s Mark Wahlberg actioner Shooter, stealing the movie clean away from the onetime Funky Bunch overlord. Meanwhile, Helm’s old pal Tommy Lee Jones cast him in his 2005 big-screen directorial debut, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, and the pair will also appear together in next spring’s thriller In the Electric Mist. ”He plays the ghost of General John Bell Hood, Texas cavalry,” says Jones. ”He brings an air of authenticity to whatever he does.”” Clark Collis, EW
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“The opening track, a cover of the Grateful Dead’s little gem “Tennessee Jed” is a fun number that features acoustic guitars, horns and, of course, Helm’s wonderful backwoods vocals. Larry Campbell’s production works well here — as it does throughout the album — giving the song a feel that’s a little bit “Dixie Chicken”-era Little Feat, but without the L.A. gloss that somewhat distracted from Feat’s studio work.
And with “Tennessee Jed” setting the scene, we’re off on a trip through an America that might be hard to find in these days of corporate homogenization — or might not even exist at all anymore — but we’ve all known it or can feel it if we listen down into ourselves.
Helm’s take on Happy Traum’s “Golden Bird” is beautiful, stark, elegiac … and a treat for those whose only exposure to Traum has been through folk-guitar instruction books.
Lightening the mood after “Golden Bird,” is a delightful cover of Muddy Waters’ “Stuff You Gotta Watch,” that tosses away all the conventions of Chicago blues and reworks the song as a back porch sing-along complete with accordion breaks. Helm does the same thing with the album’s other Waters cover, “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had,” that showcases Helm’s always tasty mandolin work alongside some really first-rate, understated acoustic slide guitar.
Also nice is Helm’s take on Randy Newman’s tip of the hat to New Orleans, “Kingfish.” With a horn arrangement by New Orleans legend Allen Toussaint and Helm’s crack band driving the song along, this thing is pure chicken grease … the tasty kind.
Adding a little flavor to the mix is producer Campbell’s “When I Go Away” which features some fine white gospel vocals. A simple song, but there’s a lot going on with those vocals. Catchy. One of those songs that invite you to join in on vocals … even if you can’t sing a lick.
Helm seems to spin all this out effortlessly. The songs picked for the album are all smart choices and the arrangements are masterful. The acoustic instruments never get lost in the mix, the horns are punchy and tight, and the drums are always in the pocket.
Credit has to be given to Campbell’s production. While he did an amazing job, it never screams out, “Look at me!” and remains an unobtrusive constant on which Helm can showcase what he does best.” Michael Louis Albo. Sonic Boomer
“The Beatles were the first superstar pop group to simply cease to exist except on record. As late as the 1940s, pop music was what bands played when people went out dancing. The records were just what you listened to at home. The Beatles were the first group to realize that pop had become records, and that they never needed to step on a stage again in their lives. That’s a huge shift, and [although] I think it would have happened without them, they were the catalysts.
The thing I’m not at all sure would have happened without them is the racial split. American pop music has always been an interaction between black and white musicians — and it’s often oversimplified into black musicians creating and white musicians stealing. But black musicians always kept up with what the white musicians were doing, just the way that white musicians tried to keep up with what the black musicians were doing. By 1963, the pop charts really were intensely integrated. Billboard magazine stopped having a separate pop and R&B chart because the two charts were virtually identical. And the Beatles single-handedly re-segregated those charts. The Beatles hit white America like the biggest thing to happen maybe ever, and they hardly hit black America at all.”Laura Fitzpatrick, Time
“Wald says he grew up a fan of the Beatles, at least the matching-suited, Beatle-booted version. But he painstakingly presents his case for how they, as his title says, destroyed rock ‘n’ roll.
It began, he says, when the Beatles abandoned live performances.
Rather than releasing a new album every couple of months, each packed with chart-topping singles, the band headed into the studio for months to realize their artistic ambitions. The brilliance of those releases (Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band among them) changed the way artists worked. The album, rather than singles, became the focus, spawning the rise of FM radio and its broadcasting niches.
Did the Beatles destroy rock ‘n’ roll? Wald makes a strong argument that they did. But even if that isn’t exactly true, his book provides a powerfully provocative look at popular music and its impact on America.” Michael E. Young, Pop Matter
““If I Could Do It All Again,” the new single from her forthcoming fourth album, is not a bad song by any means, just uninspired and misread–not to mention a bit predictable in its rock-ballad arrangement. It touches on the usual sentiments: She wouldn’t blame others for her own problems, she’d pray more, sing in the shower more, that sort of thing. The lyrics contain very few details specific to Wilson’s life, but instead of sounding universal, the song comes across as slightly anonymous, as if any other country singer could be performing it.
But the kicker comes right before the bridge, when Wilson sings that she would, “Concentrate on who I am/Not who I might have been/If I could do it all again.” It’s unclear whether the songwriters intended those lines to be ironic commentary on this type of navelgazing, but the important thing is that Wilson either doesn’t grasp that game-changing contradiction or can’t convey that she does. Which is too bad: Wilson isn’t the most subtle or nuanced singer, but her voice has real grit and power. She’s better than this song.” Stephen M. Deusner, the 9513