Canadian Audiophile’s Mishaps and Misadventures

Nat King Cole’s 10th Anniversary was a momentous release in 1955 because it marked one of the first times a label mined its vaults and released unreleased tracks to the public. Such a practice might not seem like a big deal in the “download age,” but back in good ol’ ’55, it was something out of the ordinary.

Cole was a substantial success since he had signed with Capitol Records in 1943 as the leader of the King Cole Trio. He was skilled as a jazz pianist at that point, but more attention was being paid to his vocal talents. Cole’s tunes started to feature more and more vocals until he pretty much left the piano bench for a career as a full-time vocalist. The collection of music found on 10th Anniversary is culled from his jazz and easy-listening days and highlights a time of growth and transition.

By the time 10th Anniversary came out, Cole had announced to the world that he was going solo and would be leaving the King Cole Trio moniker behind. The album, then, reflected a bit of a shift and gave fans a chance to hear both where Nat King Cole had been and where Nat King Cole was going with the rest of his extraordinary career.

The reissue of 10th Anniversary in 2008, along with the reissue of many Nat King Cole albums, marks this period of transition with solid presentation. Many of the songs from 10th Anniversary have never been featured on CD before, so for Cole fans this collection will be a real treat. In fact, this is the first time this album has been reissued in any form since its first release. For collectors, that’s a pretty big deal.

One side of the album (remember when albums used to come with “sides?”) is dedicated to King Cole Trio recordings from its later stages, mostly featuring material from between 1945 and 1949. The Trio, comprised of Cole on piano and vocal, Oscar Moore on guitar, and Johnny Miller on bass, were among the first jazz groups to set up the now-popular arrangement of guitar, bass, and piano.

The Trio sounds splendid on classics like “Dream A Little Dream of Me,” “The Love Nest,” and “I’m an Errand Boy for Rhythm.” The album features three different configurations of the Trio, as on some tracks Irving Ashby moves in to play guitar and Joe Comfort takes over on bass. Regardless of the formation, the King Cole Trio works like a dream. “Lulubelle,” which features Ashby on guitar, is a grand example of the ability of the Trio to fit together under Cole’s guidance.

The second side of the record features vocal recordings and a more orchestral sound. Arranged by Capitol Records hit-makers like Pete Rugolo, Dave Cavanaugh, and Les Baxter, the second part of the album reflects more of where Nat King Cole was headed with his stellar career. He takes center stage and commands every song with care and his trademark vocal style.

Whether he’s singing a majestic ballad (“Lovelight”) or a big band number (“I Wish I Were Somebody Else”), Cole commands with his ability to adapt to various genres. One interesting little ditty is “The Story of My Wife,” which manages to be sweet and fun without being tacky. Nat King Cole always had a gift for singing with charm and affection that drew people in to the music. That gift is evident all over 10th Anniversary.

Nat King Cole’s 10th Anniversary is a collector’s dream. Featuring a nice compilation of songs that represents a transitional era in his career, this album will be a must-have for lovers of Nat King Cole’s everlasting excellence. Personally, I’ll be returning to this recording again and again.

8/10

And there she was. The woman in red drew attention to herself like a crimson angel on the wrong side of town on a stormy night where nothing was what it seems and everything was just a little…different.

I approached her from across the crowded smoky room with a drink in my left hand, and a lighter for her cigarette in my right. Ready for anything, I calmly drew near and flicked the flame out just in time. Her cigarette greeted my warm flame like two lovers who hadn’t seen each other for a while. She smiled.

I stole a glance at her figure quickly, hoping to go unnoticed by the dame in red. She had a body that’d make a bishop kick out a stained glass window and lips that seemed to say “Thank you, I’m yours.” Her purse was slung over her left shoulder and she held it tight as though protecting something.

Everybody’s protecting something here.

In the middle of all of this smoke – or is it smoke and mirrors? – comes Larry Vuckovich and his gang of jazz thugs. Without warning, the sounds of High Wall: Real Life Film Noir fill the crowded smoky room and people are paying attention to something else besides their drinks and besides their respective women in red.

See, Larry’s a pro.

He’s what hipsters in jazz call a “rare bird.” Proud of his Slavic heritage and making no jokes about his love for film noir, Vuckovich has been filling smoky rooms with beautiful music as though it flows straight from his veins. 2006 saw Street Scene, a critically-acclaimed marvel that saw him join with stellar jazz musicians under a dim street lamp somewhere to create gorgeous and haunting sounds. With the page turned midway on 2008, High Wall: Real Life Film Noir picks up where Street Scene left off.

Vuckovich has composed High Wall because of his interest in the themes of deception, false accusations, and The Big Lie. Perhaps for me, The Big Lie is somewhere in the red woman’s purse.

Based on a 1947 film noir of the same name, Vuckovich’s High Wall references the barrier to the truth that we all sometimes wind up facing. Larry knows that barrier well, having grown up in a Communist regime in Yugoslavia. Throughout his life, he’s looked for the truth wherever he can find and has produced music based around that search for reality.

The musicians joining Vuckovich must be searching for the same sense of truth because the musical cohesion as evidenced in the arrangements is truly something special. Larry’s accomplices move through a variety of tones, taking on Afro 6/8 rhythm in “Afro 6/8 Minor Blues” and sweeping through film themes in Bronislaw Kaper’s “High Wall” or his own composition “View from Telegraph Hill.”

Vuckovich also works through jazz-funk with precision (“Put It Where You Want It”) and organizes his crew through classic blues patterns on Coltrane’s blazing hot “Locomotion.”

As I find myself drifting off through the Eastern European patterns of “Gypsy Roma Mambo (Dark Eyes),” I start to realize that the woman in red is gone.

Frantically, I turn around and look behind me for just a glimpse of the sweet crimson dress or the beautiful lips. She’s gone. Nothing remains but a memory and the eerie possibilities of The Big Lie in her purse.

8/10

The best album of 2008 is Duffy’s Rockferry.

There I said it. You can stop reading now.

In all sincerity, it’s probably better to simply pick up the Welsh singer’s debut and bask in its brilliance. Duffy – that’s Aimee Anne Duffy – is part of a collective known loosely and rather garishly as “the new Amys” in an obvious reference to The Winehouse. In the business of comparisons, it’s not a bad one.

With speakers blaring in the living room and a gargantuan glass of wine on the table, Duffy’s Rockferry took flight much in the same way that Back to Black took flight for me. First, there’s a simple recognition along the lines of “Oh shit, that voice!” Second, the music sets in and forms a sort of snug cocoon around the listener as if to suggest there’s no escape. Third, the record ends a little over a half hour later with little by way of memory and an easy feeling of opaque elation remains.

A second listen demands a clearer head, which for me meant waiting until morning. Awake, I head for the stereo and throw a wink at Duffy’s blonde head on the cover of Rockferry. After pressing PLAY, the piano at the beginning of the title track jars me and the obscenely overwhelming voice, this fucking marvellous voice, begins to fiddle with my inner workings.

“Rockferry” is one of those songs that simply call out to be listened to. When Duffy ventures into the higher registry during the latter half of the song, one easily imagines Joss Stone looking on invidiously. Her power is incontestable and her vocal control is simply confounding.

The title track was a hell of a thing to live up to, but this Welsh Wonder doubles up and drives fervently and mightily through melodic ready-for-excessive-rotation hits like “Warwick Avenue” and the extraordinary “Delayed Devotion.”

Duffy’s song-writing – yeah she does that – is ballsy and persuasive. On “Syrup and Honey,” she implores the subject “Don’t you be wasting all your money on syrup and honey/Because I’m sweet enough.” And she courteously channels a bit of Dusty Springfield for the album’s final track, the gorgeous “Distant Dreamer.”

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter much if Duffy or The Winehouse winds up singing me to sleep, as both are seamlessly brilliant women. Duffy’s poignant intonations are hard to resist and Rockferry is the perfect debut album for a certain star.

In fact, she might have us saying “Amy who?” before we know it.

10/10

Some empires fall to pieces while others flourish. In the case of Australia’s The Cat Empire, the funky-ass melodies and jazz/ska/rock/Latin/whatever fusion of their sound has helped the six-piece prosper while many others would have long crumbled under the pressure.

Beginning as a trio in 1999, The Cat Empire didn’t put out their first album until 2003. The self-titled release was made while heavily touring Australia. By the time the debut was released, the group was a full six-person collective and had a track (“Hello”) in heavy rotation on BBC Radio 1.

So Many Nights, which is the band’s third album, was released in Australia in September of 2007. The subsequent Australian tour included a record-breaking eight shows in seven nights at Sydney’s Metro Theatre. So Many Nights hit its American release on April 22, 2008 and has been generating a good deal of buzz for the sextet from Down Under.

Featuring the 2007 line-up of Felix Riebl on lead vocals and percussion, Harry James Agnus on trumpet and lead vocals, Ollie McGill on piano and keyboard, Ryan Monro on bass, Will Hull Brown on drums, and Jamshid “Jumps” Khadiwhala on turntables and tambourine, The Cat Empire cranks out party music with depth and enthusiasm. The collective also features The Empire Horns, a small group of trombone, trumpet, and sax players who are essentially considered full-time members.

With So Many Nights, the songs are pulled from stories and adventures from the band’s travels. This meant that the group needed to step beyond their normal “party thing” and head into more pensive terrain. While the funk and strong melodies are still present, fans of The Cat Empire may find a little more profundity and meticulousness on this record.

The songs still crackle, but some might find a little more introspection than they bargained for.

When the funky introduction of the album’s opener and self-titled track takes over, however, it becomes apparent that The Cat Empire is a tight unit. The addictive catchiness of the chorus and the danceable rhythm is hard to resist. And so it is with So Many Nights, as songs take off like fireworks and splash captivating rhythms and vibrant melodies damn well everywhere.

Some songs slow the party down a little, like the fanciful and delightful “Panama,” the melancholy of “No Longer There,” or the mystifying reggae tone of “Til the Ocean Takes Us All,” but the magic of this grand collective is still very much there.

Other songs play with ska (“Fishies” and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones-esque “Sunny Moon”), while others tinker happily with jazzy strutting (“Lonely Moon”) and Middle Eastern flavor (“The Darkness”). To say that So Many Nights is never boring is an understatement; each track offers something new, fresh, and inviting.

The Cat Empire’s latest is an inspiring musical journey through a slew of different genres. The band never lets up and, although some tunes sound a bit congested and the turntable often seems gratuitous, the group’s exciting ear for melody comes through in the most unlikely of places.

So Many Nights is another worthy entry in the “mythology” of The Cat Empire.

7.5/10

Jorge Reyes has been one of the great innovators of the double-bass in Cuban music, layering his sound with such profound depth that his instrument isn’t confined to the back of the orchestra but rather takes center stage. He plays it like a lead instrument, coaxing melodies out of the lower register and easily moving between roles as a support rhythmic player to a central character in his compositions.

With De Todo Un Poco (A Little bit of Everything), Reyes bounces merrily between both roles. He also serves as bandleader on each track and is the composer of many of the album’s instrumentals. Jorge’s command of his quintet (Reyes on bass, Carlos Averhoff Jr. on tenor sax, Emilio Morales on piano, Giraldo Piloto on drums, and Adel González on percussion) is notable not only in the flexibility of the music but also in the interaction between the band’s instruments. Each song is like a conversation.

That interaction works best when Reyes is experimenting with different tempos and making alterations in the rhythms. The album’s opener, “Do-Do,” bounces bravely as an introduction and quickly changes pace with its enthusiastic percussion.

Reyes employs related Cuban flavours throughout De Todo Un Poco, straying from his roots just long enough to play with other melodies and tempos. On “Contraste,” the use of tap percussion and drums flows logically from the song’s vivacious introduction and Reyes’ bass takes the lead. Percussion explodes on “Descarga 2003,” a rousing number highlighted by claps and a rock-and-roll melody.

The tender vocals of Evelyn Garcia Marquez are featured on three songs, adding depth to the record. “Realidad y Fantasia” from Cesar Partillo de La Luz has a jazz standard feel, while the nature of “Obsesión” focuses on the heart-rending dialogue between Marquez’s beautiful lamentations and Reyes accompanying bass.

Reyes ends things with the bass and percussion interchange of “Con-Tumba y Con-Trabajo” and leads it into Billy Strayhorn’s standard “Take the A Train,” giving the latter a pile of amped-up Cuban tang and an flood of percussion to fill in the gaps. Reyes’ take on Strayhorn’s inimitable standard is energetic and high-spirited.

Jorge Reyes’ dazzling De Todo Un Poco really does supply a little bit of everything. His knack for using rhythms of folk, blues, jazz, Cuban and world music, and even a little bit of rock and roll shows his zeal for music and his need to expose the world to the endless possibilities of music.

8/10

Artists like Paquito D’Rivera don’t come around very often, yet this virtuoso of the flute, clarinet, and sax forms an instant relationship with the listener. Relationships are based on trust, and one can trust D’Rivera to play his heart out and allow the music to flow over the confines of the composition into something spectacular.

While Paquito is absurdly talented, he is also very accessible. Perhaps that’s a part of his charm, as his music readily fits in at the snazziest high-end gatherings and the most down-home joints without losing any of its fire.

So when the Bele Bele Jazz Club series compiles a collection of virtually unknown recordings from Paquito D’Rivera, it requires attention. The eleven cuts found on The Lost Sessions are taken from a period between 1976 and 1978. While it’s quite a narrow period in time, it’s also an extremely diverse period for Paquito and the other performers on this disc.

The songs are unwilling to be confined into particular genres, giving this anthology an almost felonious feel. It seems that it doesn’t matter who Paquito plays with, as the tunes simply have a desire to jump out of the speakers and begin dancing around mischievously. And that’s just what happens as The Lost Sessions spins.

These songs beg for motion from the listener; most of them are simply impossible to remain still through. Regardless of how hard I tried, my left foot wouldn’t stop tapping to the contagious grooves of “Mi Pequeña Anna.” Paquito is joined by the Finland Jazz Combo for the first three tracks on the album, adding a taut backing collective to his sizzling Cuban jazz tendencies.

The remainder of the album was recorded in Cuba, firmly entrenching the tracks in an environment of flavour and spice. At the same time, Paquito’s sound is also drenched in all sorts of 70s style. The compositions drip with biting wit in some cases, packed with organs and different sorts of effects to plant the sounds in the psychedelic tone of the time.

“Canción a Palia” is a nasty bit of jazz business, sped ahead full blast with an addictive percussion rhythm. It’s Carlos Emilio Morales’ guitar that puts this one over the board, though.

Other tracks take a disco rhythm and infuse it with Cuban jazz, creating a sound worth several repeat listens. The sort but sweet “Pulgarcito en Guanabara” is an example of this. Pay attention to the sudden ending. You can’t miss it!

The Lost Sessions from Paquito D’Rivera deserved to be found. With high-spirited ecstasy sprinkled throughout this recording, it’s a hard album to sit still through and an even harder album to listen to just once. Using Cuban jazz standards with sweltering percussion and special effects, Paquito’s compositions capture the sound of the 70s with unyielding glee and demonstrate his skills as a true giant of the woodwinds.

8/10

Stanley Jordan is one of the slickest jazz guitarists around. His expansion of the touch technique has made him legendary in jazz circles. Jordan’s method allows him to play melody and chords at the same time, creating a cascade of sound. His new album uses this cascade of sound to create a set of songs relating to a theme very close to his heart: Mother Earth.

State of Nature will be released on April 22 (Earth Day), with no coincidences ever intended. Jordan’s album carries a theme of native beauty, as each song picks up on a different part of nature and draws on the visual aspects of music to epitomize his concepts.

“Part of the reason I made this album were revelations I discovered in my journey to try to become a better person,” Jordan states. He goes on to elaborate, adding that the idea of taking care of the environment never seems to render human action. “What is it about humans that makes us so intelligent and yet so unwise?”

This thought process would prove to be the underpinning for State of Nature, as the guitar genius weaved the structures for several songs with notions of ecological issues, global warming, and the corrosion of nature. The music celebrates life while also exploring our part in the changing climate and the “state of nature.”

Musically diverse, State of Nature uses classical, jazz, and rock textures to provide a milieu for Stanley’s message of penance and accord with the earth. “A Place in Space” starts things off, provoking thoughts of the scale of the universe. Jordan swings for the fences in “All Blues,” one of the album’s best tracks.

Whether he’s weaving together the traditional strains of Mozart (“Mozart’s Piano Concerto #21”) or taking on a Joe Jackson joint (“Steppin’ Out’), Stanley’s work is free and bold. He often sizzles, producing infuriatingly intricate sounds from his supernatural guitar. The incredible riffs found on “Shadow Dance” prove his talent movingly.

With this album, Stanley Jordan manages to say more about the real state of nature than any amount of protest music or Al Gore docs ever could. His music is striking, stylish, and commanding. His synthesis of various styles ensures that his reflection on the ways of life will resound with fans of all different types of music, making State of Nature an extraordinary work of great power and possibility.

7/10