The <A HREF="http://home.comcast.net/~burningamp/Burnigamp2009/BurningAmp/index.html… Amp Festival</A> is almost upon us. The day-long DIY (do-it-yourself) love fest, held within yards of the San Francisco Bay, attracts a good 150 DIYers from around the world who engage in the annual ritual of demming their homemade gear for other avid audio enthusiasts.
My problem is intensified a million times over by the fact that many of these releases are severely limited. I’m talking as few as 300 (or even just 250!) copies of a certain album are pressed on delicious vinyl, and that’s it. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. Thank the holy lord up above that I live in the New York City area and I can get my hands on just about anything I want. A trip to Other Music or Hospital Productions takes just a few minutes. Of course, I could always purchase these titles online, but where’s the fun in that? Actually going to the record shop and finding a copy of the album is so much more special. It feels <i>deserved</i>, it feels <i>won</i>.
Although it was a really lovely autumn Sunday with soft blue skies, abundant sunshine, and a crisp breeze, I was still feeling rather worn out from shipping our December issue. Instead of finding a place to watch the Giants demolish the Raiders, I decided to stay inside and listen to records. I considered taking notes to accompany each album, but doing so would have felt too much like more work, so I opted to simply listen and deal with the subsequent guilt.
<B>Regina Spektor: <I>Far</I></B><BR>
Sire 519396-2 (CD). 2009. Mike Elizondo, Jeff Lynne, Jacknife Lee, David Kahne, prods.; Adam Hawkins, Marc Mann, Steve Jay, Tom McFall, engs. AAD? TT: 47:21<BR>
Performance ****<BR>
Sonics ****½
Plenty of albums have one or two great tracks, but once in a while, an album will be near-flawless from start to finish. Name an album that you think is perfect from beginning to end.
Watching Bobby Bradford and David Murray on the bandstand together at the Jazz Standard Saturday night (see my last blog entry) inspired me to take another listen to the only CD that paired them together, <I>Death of a Sideman</I>, recorded in 1991 under Murray’s name but featuring nothing but Bradford compositions, eight tracks’ worth.
I’m not going to get all flowery and poetic on this one. I’m just going to say: Buy this record.
Cold Cave’s sound, look, and fixations on sex, love, violence, and death remind me of early Sonic Youth. The 12” single for “Love Comes Close” is due out on October 20, thanks to <a href="http://www.matadorrecords.com/matablog/2009/10/05/announcing-cold-cave-…;. Buy it while supplies last.
As I was saying a few days ago, Bobby Bradford’s rare appearance at the Jazz Standard last Saturday was one of the most bracing sets I’ve seen in a long time. In the early-to-mid ‘90s, New Yorkers could go hear this sort of jazz—exuberant, free, but highly disciplined music—almost every night at the Knitting Factory. Just about everyone in Bradford’s band on Saturday was a regular at “the Knit” in its heyday—David Murray on tenor sax, Marty Ehrlich on alto, Mark Dresser on bass, Andrew Cyrille on drums: an extraordinary band.