Led Zeppelin’s Last Blast, The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus & More
Led Zeppelin: Presence, In Through The Out Door, Coda (various editions) (Swan Song /Atlantic) It’s mildly unsettling to start a new releases column in 2015 with revamped versions of albums released eons ago, but it’s entirely appropriate. These three sets, the last of the official Led Zeppelin albums, originally released between 1976-1982 and now juiced up to the extreme thanks to Zep’s own Jimmy Page, who as per norm offers up oodles of unheard recordings in accompaniment, still sound somewhat amazing. Why? Because they sounded fairly out of time when the first emerged—though many tried, very few ever sounded like Led Zeppelin—and they continue to sound fairly odd even now. They pound, they shred, they wash over accepted levels of late ‘70s rock music production with strange new sonic twists, be it a drumbeat here or an unexpectedly dominant keyboard theme there, and nothing has ever sounded like them since. Presence is really the gem here, coming at an awkward time for the band but striving for the perversely loud and excessive rather than the restrained—opening track “Achilles Last Stand” is their latter-day career peak as far as I’m concerned—and it could not be more tightly assembled. In Through The Out Door is essentially the band’s John Paul Jones album–he’s all over the place, it sounds great, but it’s not the home of blazingly memorable guitar riffs—and Coda is the contractually required career finish-upper. Not their best, and not a masterpiece, but for fans, much worth hearing. Track for track, Led Zeppelin offered up nothing but well-arranged albums filled with substance that sonically were above nearly all the work of their contemporaries, and these three albums, loaded with their various bonus tracks, make that point to the very end. That even for a second Led Zeppelin were the subject of controversy among enlightened rock critics of various eras is mildly humorous, entirely predictable, and very much off the point. And the point is that their records rocked royally, and these, the last of a very well thought out series, rock very much as well.
Buddy Guy: Born To Play Guitar (RCA) There is a certain way major labels can play the new releases by major blues figures as they get on in years. As prior sets by B.B. King and John Lee Hooker have proven, put your respected, aging champ in the studio with younger, hipper contemporaries, and you’ll rake in publicity, garner some airplay, and—who knows?—maybe knock out a classic track or two. That’s what’s going on here with guitarist Buddy Guy, now 78, who is joined here by colorful guests (ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons, Van Morrison, the Fabulous Thunderbirds’ Kim Wilson, Joss Stone), most of whom—perhaps relevantly—aren’t exactly that much younger than Guy. Still, there are few commercial compromises here, no pop radio hits beckon, and Guy sounds as skilled and frisky as he’s always been. And his guests treat him with the respect he deserves, no pandering allowed. In all: This is a very good way to make a Buddy Guy album, circa 2015, and a fine showing for all concerned. Hear it.
Titus Andronicus: The Most Lamentable Tragedy (Merge) Maybe that I felt a great way to refer in shorthand to Titus Andronicus the band—as opposed to the tragedy penned by William Shakespeare in the late16th Century—as “Tight Ass” was something of a revealing, latter-day career peak. But these days I simply wear the bottom of my trousers rolled, etc., and that’s just me! Yet this rockin’ and lengthy collection is more than just a punch line: It consists of a nonstop batch of strong and powerful songs, features the always memorable lyrical passage “I need to f**k someone tonight,” and is ambitious in a way that seems jarringly out-of-time in this century. It sounds quite good. Were I looking to spend a romantic night out on a date, I would absolutely opt for Boz Scaggs rather than this, which must prove something or other, but the sad truth: I’m not! Buy this today!
Albert Hammond Jr.: Momentary Masters (Vagrant) A pretty strong statement here from a fellow who rose to fame via his band the Strokes—they were the Next Big Thing Once, then gradually weren’t—mostly because the songs and the structures are well in the forefront, the guitar riffs (not unimportant, since Hammond plays guitar) occasionally evoke the first Television album, and a lot is being tastefully, and occasionally powerfully, expressed. There is a cover of Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice,” fascinating merely for its presence, but there’s much more of greater substance—at least for those who care about Hammond—that speaks well for the artist and his future, with or without the Strokes. This is good stuff, and after all this time, it seems like there’s much more to come. And that’s a real good sign. Recommended.
The Band: The Capitol Albums 1968-1977 (Vinyl box) (Capitol) For those keeping track, there are really a limited number of iconic rock ‘n’ roll bands left whose memories being served by lush vinyl box sets that are not a function of record company greed. But the Band deserve this, and it is ultra-fine. A wonderfully produced vinyl re-presentation of the classic group’s work from 1968’s Music From Big Pink through 1977’s Islands, this classy collection of 180-gram vinyl, nine discs in all, pretty much represents a definitive statement. While there are hits like “The Weight” and “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” to be had, the collective experience—these fabulous discs all at once, from start to finish—ooze with substance, authenticity, catchiness, and something so inescapably unique it has yet to be fully replicated by anyone ever. Dynamic work filled with precision playing, soulful vocalizing, scarily great songwriting, and that odd Van Morrison duet that will make you want to drink a substantial amount of alcohol, slam your microphone on the stage floor, and go off into a dark room a mumble a lot. Buyers of vinyl: This is about as good as it gets, and you’ll be happy to possess it.
Lianne La Havas: Blood (Nonesuch) A skilled, dynamic and extremely charismatic vocalist, Brit singer Lianne La Havas already caused a stir with her debut album, 2012’s Is Your Love Big Enough, which apparently was named iTunes Album Of The Year—especially impressive as I know iTunes personally, and he’s quite picky—and ultimately resulted in, get this, Prince playing a gig in her London living room in 2014. Yeah, that always happens! La Havas, of mixed Greek and Jamaican heritage (it says here), traveled to Jamaica with her mother prior to the making of this album and thereby connected with Stephen McGregor, co-producer of this set–and while Blood by no means drips with blatant Bob Marleyisms, there is a sound and feel of classy precision and emotionalism that pervades throughout that seems significant. A wonderful pop album of substance that could easily cross over here in USA. Hopefully it will, and the world will be as one!
Bill Evans: The Complete Fantasy Recordings (Fantasy) It’s a very good thing that some of the very best musicians in the world can be represented—heard, appreciated, read about, listened to over and over—via boxed sets like this. Pianist Evans, a legendary player who was involved in many of jazz’s finest-ever recordings, is on display here in wonderful form, captured making music for the Fantasy label between 1973-1979. He is scarily good, precise, emotional, and while theoretically past his “peak”—which some would hold came during his late ‘50s-early ‘60s Riverside Records era—still in top form, lyrical beyond belief, and jaw-droppingly good. His classic trio format predominates, though there are several particularly colorful exceptions—his duet sets with Tony Bennett, 1978’s Crosscurrents with Warne Marsh And Lee Konitz—that stand out in the mix here. His work continues to impress all these years, and this collection, wonderfully annotated and compiled, is where you’d want to go to explore his later work. Remarkably solid, consistent, and downright good.
