Dr. Dre’s Unexpected Return, New Wave Nostalgia & More
Dr. Dre: Compton: A Soundtrack By Dr. Dre (Aftermath) This album is big news by any standard, and many standards. The notion of a “new” album by the pioneering producer has been something of a standing joke for a decade or so: The longer it took for him to follow up The Chronic (1992) and 2001 (1999), the less likely it appeared he ever would. Detox, supposedly begun in 2003 and intended to be his third album, is not this. And this is Compton, labeled a “soundtrack” but simply inspired by the brand new film Straight Outta Compton, filled with sizzling production—the man is immensely skilled, sonically speaking–and guests like Kendrick Lamar, Ice Cube, Snoop Dogg, the Game, Eminem, Jill Scott, and Xzibit, among others. Between its forward-facing production and the various backward-looking, almost nostalgic dialog populating each song, it’s an unusual album, simultaneously embracing a legacy and consciously pushing that same legacy forward. Thanks to Dre’s business acumen—whether it be via record production, headphone affiliation, or his hopping over to Apple—this album is unique in that it is, at the moment, solely available via Apple’s new Apple Music division, and can be heard merely by signing up for that brand new service. It’s almost as if that’s why he put this out!
Various Artists: Now That’s What I Call New Wave 80s (Legacy) It’s odd that this long-lived, commercially huge series that typically had no unifying thread whatsoever except for massive record sales, finally produces a “concept” record by default. And that concept is, basically: Here’s all the stuff that radio stations like LA’s KROQ or MTV itself featured to the point of overkill way back in the ‘80s. It’s all here—the biggest hits by Billy Idol, the Human League, the Eurythmics, the Cure, The Thompson Twins, the B-52’s, the Romantics—and every note, every beat, every squealing, mechanized synthesizer squeal, evokes those innocent days when mascara, hair, and pink leather jackets were really all that ever mattered. It’s all still good pop, some of it adventurous in its time but now oddly soothing and familiar, and exactly the sort of thing you’d want to play in your car when driving home tipsily from your neighborhood karaoke haunt.
Frank Turner: Positive Songs For Negative People (Xtra Mile/Interscope) Credit to Frank Turner for continuing his tradition of sharp and pointed songwriting that manages to sound thoroughly contemporary but evoke the same degree of passion and politics that’s populated the best folk music of the past 50 years. And that’s no small thing for a former member of post-hardcore band Million Dead. Recorded in Nashville and produced by Butch Walker, Positive Songs is Turner’s sixth studio set and, with the help of backing band the Sleeping Souls, a sonically diverse, emotion-packed set filled to the brim with character, color and listenability. He’s good, Frank Turner, and he doesn’t repeat himself. And that’s even better.
[Related: Frank Turner performs at SXSW]
Red River Dialect: Tender Gold & Gentle Blue (Hinterground) A beautiful and captivating record that evokes late ‘60s Britfolk and psychedelia yet is utterly contemporary, Tender Gold may well be best described by the series of tags that populate its page on Bandcamp : celtic cornwall devotional acoustic folk chamber folk folk open tuning songwriter London. There’s a mood that’s disarming, a folksy genuineness not far removed from the approach of early’-70s Pentangle, say, but not encumbered by pure folk instrumentation. There are violins, cellos and guitars here, and banjos, and tape loops, and solid, sincere songs crafted by one David Morris, whose work you really should hear. Fully-formed, adventurous, mature, and highly recommended.
Alice Cooper: The Studio Albums 1969-1983 (Rhino) Must again point out the “golden era” of packed recorded goods here in 2015: A few weeks back came a 10-CD box set containing all of the best-selling albums by the Doobie Brothers, circa 1971-1983—all for close to 50 bucks—and now this, a jam-packed collection containing all that is relevant about pioneering rockers/rocker Alice Cooper. In short all of the great stuff, all of the good stuff, and then…eventually…it all tapers off. But there are 15 full CDs to be had here, the collection can be had for under 70 bucks, everything largely sounds great, and for my money, the first three albums—Pretties For You, Easy Action and Love It To Death—are alone worth the investment. With each disc packaged in mini-cardboard sleeves bearing each album’s original artwork (no mini-panties with Muscle Of Love, but that would be asking too much), this is about as good an Alice Cooper buy as you’ll ever see. Get it quick.
Jackson C. Frank: Jackson C. Frank: The Complete Recordings (Ba Da Bing) An unexpected surplus of material by the highly regarded but ultimately little-known folk figure Jackson C. Frank, an American who made his name playing his music in Britain in the ‘60s, influenced many, and then underwent a long, and depressing, decline. The sole album he released during his lifetime—1965’s Jackson C. Frank—was produced by no less than Paul Simon and featured his best-known track, the oft-covered “Blues Run The Game.” Those who heard it, and revered it, are themselves very well known: Nick Drake, Sandy Denny, Bert Jansch, John Renbourn, and not coincidentally, Simon & Garfunkel are just a few who admired the man’s work. This collection is a boon for any fan: 3 CDs featuring his solo album, the bonus tracks that populated its 2003 Sanctuary reissue and 24 additional tracks. Well annotated, thorough, and a marvelous look at one of music’s more fascinating figures.
Stephan Micus: Nomad Songs (ECM) While its difficult to get emotionally wrapped up into the sort of exotica that 30 years ago became known as “New Age” music—what does that really mean, really and truly in 2015?—there’s something not entirely dissimilar in the contemporary works of multi-instrumentalist Stephan Micus, though he’d probably hate that description. But there’s a there there in his playing, and there always has been, and on this set—unbelievably his 21st album for the German ECM label—there’s enough passion and flow and color to convince even the most jaded listener something special is on display here. Though you’ve likely never before heard the genbri or the ndingo—a Moroccan lute and a Botswanan instrument similar to the kalimba—they’re on display here, soothing, atmospheric, and characteristically part of Micus’s ever-growing sonic landscape. It’s beautiful stuff, which is what this guy produces for a living. And he does it very well.
