Magnetic Fields' first two albums, released in 1990 and 1992 on tiny indies and all but ignored until
the release of this double CD in 1994, are among the most influential records of '90s indie pop. Resolutely unfashionable in the dawning of grunge, with their early-'80s synthesizers and deliberately twee lyrical preoccupations, these albums are directly responsible for dozens, if not hundreds, of less capable imitators. Thing is, they're also the least interesting and most atypical Magnetic Fields albums. Both albums were sung by Susan Anway, whose deliberately deadpan voice sounds like a cross between Tracey Thorn and Françoise Hardy, instead of Stephin Merritt. While Anway's voice has an alluring charm on many tracks and is absolutely perfect for songs like the Phil Spector pastiche "When You Were My Baby" and the classic heartbreaker "100,000 Fireflies," she can't always put across Merritt's signature mix of cynicism and romantic longing. For that matter, these are Merritt's weakest songs both lyrically and melodically, with only flashes of the wit and sophistication that flowered on later Magnetic Fields albums. While there are several gems to be found here, including the hypnotic "You Love to Fail" and the swooning "Suddenly There Is a Tidal Wave," many of the melodies are unmemorable and a few of the lyrics strive for the kind of offhand cleverness that would later become Merritt's trademark. These records are historically important, and entertaining in their way, but they're by far the weakest releases of Merritt's career. (AMG)
The Magnetic Fields - The Wayward Bus/Distant Plastic Trees (1995)
The label responsible for the Las Vegas Grind series is Strip. "Strip" is also the best possible name for the genre these compilations celebrate. In an age where exotic dancing is invariably accompanied by Top 40 hits, it is difficult to imagine house bands for strip clubs. On the other hand, it is equally difficult to imagine this collection of bands playing anywhere else. Las Vegas Grind is the reprobate little sister of lounge music and the unwed mother of all '60s garage bands. It distinguishes itself from these venerable styles in that it has none of lounge music's artsy cocktail pretension, nor does it possess the snotty suburban wrath that is the mark of garage bands. It is like both genres, though, in that there is not a drop of irony anywhere to be found on the whole disc. To say that it lacks irony is not to say that it lacks jocularity. While most numbers -- "The Strip," "The Whip," and "Drums A-Go-Go," to name but three -- are sincerely risqué, several more dubious tracks -- "A La Carte," "Pimples & Braces," and "Hooty Sapperticker," for example -- approach the level of novelty tune. These musical gags seem to provide the same slightly sweaty, slightly nervous acquittal as Benny Hill, French sex comedies and Playboy cartoons. Never mind the naked ladies, it's all just bawdy fun. With naked ladies or without, Las Vegas Grind is bawdy fun, indeed. 
Mos Def's partnership with Talib Kweli produced one of the most important hip-hop albums of the late '90s, 1997's brilliant Black Star. Consciously designed as a return to rap's musical foundations and a manifesto for reclaiming the art form from gangsta/playa domination, it succeeded mightily on both counts, raising expectations sky-high for Mos Def's solo debut. He met them all with Black on Both Sides, a record every bit as dazzling and visionary as Black Star. Black on Both Sides strives to not only refine but expand the scope of Mos Def's talents, turning the solo spotlight on his intricate wordplay and nimble rhythmic skills -- but also his increasing eclecticism. The main reference points are pretty much the same -- old-school rap, which allows for a sense of playfulness as well as history, and the Native Tongues posse's fascination with jazz, both for its sophistication and cultural heritage. But they're supported by a rich depth that comes from forays into reggae (as well as its aura of spiritual conscience), pop, soul, funk, and even hardcore punk (that on the album's centerpiece, "Rock n Roll," a dissection of white America's history of appropriating black musical innovations). In keeping with his goal of restoring hip-hop's sociopolitical consciousness, Def's lyrics are as intelligent and thoughtfully crafted as one would expect, but he doesn't stop there -- he sings quite passably on several tracks, plays live instruments on others (including bass, drums, congas, vibraphone, and keyboards), and even collaborates on a string arrangement. In short, Black on Both Sides is a tour de force by an artist out to prove he can do it all. Its ambition and execution rank it as one of the best albums of 1999, and it consolidates Mos Def's position as one of hip-hop's brightest hopes entering the 21st century. (AMG)
One of the grooviest Dorothy Ashby albums of the 60s – a set that has her already-great jazz work on harp backed by Chicago soul arrangements from Richard Evans – all in a blend that's somewhere in the territory of the Soulful Strings, but even groovier! And as an added bonus, Odell Brown even plays a bit of Fender Rhodes on the record – which sounds especially great! Both Ashby and Evans are at the height of their powers here – mixing together bits of jazz, soul, and trippier elements in a sublime late 60s Cadet Records blend – one that's carried off perfectly on the original tunes "Truth Spoken Here", "Tornado", "Cause I Need It", and "Just Had To Tell Somebody" – but which also sounds great on some of the album's cool covers too! Other titles include Brazilian numbers "Reza" and "Canto De Ossanha" – both of which are transformed in Dorothy's hands – plus "This Girl's In Love", "By the Time I Get to Phoenix", and "Windmills of Your Mind"!
A peculiar record, bridging bebop mannerism and electronic experimentation. Synthetizer arabesques rise over exquisite double-bass grooves and jazzy drumming. Their use is much varied: from soundtrack-like melodic themes, to minimal-tinged stagnations and proto-techno burbles. The compositions are elegant, lucid, but pleasantly devoid of the bombast of much prog-rock of those years. On the contrary, the tracks are absorbed in a gassy fluctuation, slighthly futuristic, a bit Satiesque, but most of all very light and unpretentious. (Il golpe e l'uva)
As glam rock debut albums go, you'll have to search a long way to find one that outclasses Suzi Quatro's opening shot. Though her fame and, of course, her hit singles-so-far were based around songwriters Nicky Chinn and Mike Chapman's guileless ability to crank out the classics, away from the glare of TV and radio play the pair allowed Quatro and partner Len Tuckey full rein. The result was an album of several very distinct parts, inextricably linked by the sheer power of the Quatro personality. The heart of Suzi Quatro lies in the band's choice of covers. Harking back to Quatro's years in Detroit clubland, there's a Slade-meets-Stonesy grind through "I Wanna Be Your Man," a raucous blast through "All Shook Up," and, restating the song's claim to be the best rock & roller any Briton ever wrote, Johnny Kidd's "Shaking All Over," garageland sexuality oozing out from every pore. Chinnichap's "Primitive Love," one of the finest songs that the duo ever left unnoticed on an LP, then echoes that same intent, seething percussion and unearthly crowd sounds building around a jungle chant that reduces Quatro's characteristic cries to a breathy growl that is pure animal seduction. Of Quatro/Tuckey's own contributions, "Glycerine Queen" (already familiar from a B-side) and "Shine My Machine" are the most in character, straightforward rockers bolstered by the band's already trademark roiling rhythm. "Skin Tight Skin," on the other hand, is the most adventurous, bucking the formula in favor of a slow swing and a vocal that is straight out of West Side Story. Since cherry-picked as the basis for any number of Quatro compilations, Suzi Quatro itself is best experienced either in its original form or across the 1988 Rock Til Ya Drop CD collection, which allies the LP in its entirety with five more period singles and B-sides (plus, inexplicably, two tracks dating from 1977-1978). In either guise, Suzi Quatro remains one of the most nakedly sexual albums of the entire glam rock epoch -- and one of the hottest debuts of the decade. (All Rovi/AMG)
Fuller and more thought-out than their previous releases, the Donnas' Spend the Night furthers the band's evolution from their "what if the Ramones were chicks" vibe into a really cohesive hard rock band. The straightforward lyrics still revolve around "Tonight we're gonna party," "Let's get high in the backseat of my car," and "I'm gonna steal you away from your girl," but using these tried-and-true rock & roll themes with the Donnas' equally simple song structures, their sound and message achieve a kind of rock purity that seems miles away from all of the Britneys and Christina Aguileras out there. Their allegiance to the sound of simplistic party rock bands that were around in the late '70s/early '80s (Kiss, Cheap Trick, Mötley Crüe) joins forces with the snarl of the tough girl groups of that same era (Blondie, the Pretenders, Joan Jett) in a way that hasn't been heard on a major label in at least a decade. Special recognition deserves to go to guitarist Donna R./Allison Robertson whose Ace Frehley fascination used to be cute and now sounds as though it has erupted into a full-blown obsession, but somehow she still manages to put a heavier Southern rock/Angus Young spin on the riffs, demonstrating a real attention to craft that wouldn't have even occurred to them on their 1998 debut. Despite all of this maturity, Spend the Night ain't no Mantovani; the perpetually teenaged foursome still have their raw edges and sharp teeth, it's just that the edges rip deeper and the teeth bite harder with this more efficient and well-crafted rock assault. (AMG)
Blondie turned to British pop producer Mike Chapman for their third album, on which they abandoned any pretensions to new wave legitimacy (just in time, given the decline of the new wave) and emerged as a pure pop band. But it wasn't just Chapman that made Parallel Lines Blondie's best album; it was the band's own songwriting, including Deborah Harry, Chris Stein, and James Destri's "Picture This," and Harry and Stein's "Heart of Glass," and Harry and new bass player Nigel Harrison's "One Way or Another," plus two contributions from nonbandmember Jack Lee, "Will Anything Happen?" and "Hanging on the Telephone." That was enough to give Blondie a number one on both sides of the Atlantic with "Heart of Glass" and three more U.K. hits, but what impresses is the album's depth and consistency -- album tracks like "Fade Away and Radiate" and "Just Go Away" are as impressive as the songs pulled for singles. The result is state-of-the-art pop/rock circa 1978, with Harry's tough-girl glamour setting the pattern that would be exploited over the next decade by a host of successors led by Madonna. (AMG/All Rovi)
The CD reissue of Alice Coltrane's watershed first album after the death of her husband John has been repackaged -- and wonderfully remastered -- with an unreleased solo piano tune and two tracks from Cosmic Music added to the original album. In some cases a compendium wouldn't work, but all of it falls into place -- except for the solo "Altruvista" from 1967 at the end -- because of the chronological sequencing from January through June of 1968. There are three different sessions and two different bands at work on A Monastic Trio; the first is actually a quartet with Pharoah Sanders playing tenor, flute, and bass clarinet respectively on "Lord, Help Me to Be," "The Sun," and "Phnedaruth," with Jimmy Garrison on bass and Ben Riley on drums. The other five pieces are by a trio with Garrison and the fiery drummer Rashied Ali. Musically, the works here move from the deep bluesy modal structures that Alice Coltrane so loved in John's repertoire. Here she composes on the first three tunes for herself and Sanders. All of these works, with their deep Eastern tinges in the intervals juxtaposed against Western blues phrasing, are wondrously droning and emotional exercises. Sanders moves the music outside its frame of reference, adding his harmonic invention -- which is truly singular -- to Coltrane's blues-making, creating music that feels, anyway, as if it is somehow eternal. The five tracks with Ali and Garrison are more rooted in traditional soul-jazz and gospel themes, and made somehow exotic by the use of bells and Ali's underhanded, fluidly rolling drumming. Garrison could punch up any blues line and make it sing, and he does, especially on "Gospel Trane" and "Oceanic Beloved." "Altruvista" is an odd piece of improvisation based on whole-tone scales. It's quite beautiful and flows without a hint of forced emotion or mechanical intrusion. Really, it's a long cadenza, teetering on the edge of an abyss that thankfully never swallows it, and the perfect closer for an already fine album. (AMG)
Hanna opens with the bubbly, lightweight “Hanna’s Theme”, setting an iridescent, child-like tone. That fades into the danceable buzz of “Escape 700”, and here it becomes clear that unlike Daft Punk, the Chemical Brothers managed to maintain their own style and simply adapted it to fit the film. This is as much a Chemical Brothers album as it is a soundtrack, and it’s a good one at that.
This stunning soundtrack from 1977 is the favorite of many a Goblin fan because it represents their sound carried to its most powerful and intense extremes. Suspiria was another score for their cinematic alter ego, director Dario Argento, and backed up the story of a girl who enrolls in a German dance academy only to discover it is a cover for a powerful coven of witches. The music is just as scary as the film itself, blending wailing electric guitar, whooping synthesizers, and screaming wordless cries into a spooky, bombastic sound that manages to be terrifying even without the benefit of the film's gruesome images. Suspiria has long been popular with heavy metal fans because it sports a hard-rocking edge equal in intensity to the scariest works of Black Sabbath or King Diamond: the title theme slowly builds a spooky riff on bells, acoustic guitar, and synthesizer until it erupts into a hard-rocking mid-section where nimble synthesizer solos spar with ghostly cries of "Witch! Witch!," and "Sighs" mixes panting, wordless vocals with an array of furious power chords to create an unbearably high level of suspense. Even when the score downplays the gothic rock theatrics on subtler tracks like "Black Forest" and "Blind Concert," the group's members still manage to create an intensely creepy atmosphere. The end result is an album that is guaranteed to please Goblin fans and is highly likely to appeal to fans of gothic and heavy metal sounds. Collector's note: the 2007 Cinevox CD reissue of Suspiria sports four bonus tracks, consisting of three alternate version of "Suspiria" and a slightly different version of "Markos." (AMG)