Superlative solo acoustic guitar interpretations of the compositions of the brilliant, offbeat pianist. (Herbie’s two mid-fifties Blue Note LPs are unmissable; dazzlingly just a totter sideways of Monk. He co-wrote Lady Sings The Blues with Billie Holiday.)
Acoustic Guitar magazine called it ‘one of the best guitar records ever recorded — by anybody.’
“Nowadays a lot of people are giving Nichols’ music the attention it deserves, but only Duck Baker’s playing makes me feel Herbie in the room” (Roswell Rudd).
Warmly recommended.
The guitarist recorded at Oliver Sain’s St Louis studio in 1969 — but the best stuff here isn’t funk, it’s a kind of shimmering, limber, spare steppers. With organ and a second, rhythm guitar, and one Paul Jackson on bass.
Created in collaboration with Walter Branchi from the Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, this soundtrack to Mino Guerrini’s 1968 film is among the most strikingly experimental of all Macchi’s music for cinema. A suspenseful, jet-propelled fresh mix of
psychedelia, jazz, and improv, threaded with beautiful melodies.
The first time out; from the master tapes.
Crucial, preposterous David Axelrod!
Composed and arranged by the maestro, a psychedelic garage-rock opera, sung in Latin, with Gregorian chant, pipe organ, lashings of fuzz guitar, strings and horns.
A version of the opener Kyrie Eleison famously featured in the soundtrack for Easy Rider, accompanying several scenes.
This definitive reissue was mastered by Kevin Gray using the original tapes.
This is terrific. The Duke totally fronts up; Mingus is dazzling. Les Fleurs Africaines is one for the desert island.
Plenty of thrills and spills in this soundtrack to Otto Preminger’s 1959 film. Steeply evocative dynamic and rhythmic contrasts and quick changes in orchestral density get the job done — with a repeated strain of melody — and make for highly entertaining listening, with numerous rollicking brass passages in amongst the piano-threaded impressionism, plus terrific soloing by Johnny Hodges, Ray Nance and co. Highlights include the suspenseful opener, the moody Midnight Indigo, the sublimely sad Almost Cried, and the band hard-rocking out-the-door with Upper And Outest, culminating in an amazing stratospheric passage by Cat Anderson, playing for a moment as if the needle is stuck.
Check out the opening of the film, with its title sequence by Saul Bass, and Duke’s music. Class.
Released in the same few months as Money Jungle and Duke Ellington Meets John Coltrane, this is equally unmissable.
The opening calypso establishes the joyful, extravagant mastery of the date. Apparently the musicians were unaware that they were being recorded (by Van Gelder), and — thinking it was just a warm-up — drummer Sam Woodyard rhythm-a-nings, burbles, and scats away to himself, happy as Larry, and the Hawk doesn’t show up till two-thirds of the way through… nailing it, of course. Then a rapturous version of Mood Indigo, with more sublime Hawkins… a kicking Ray Charles tribute… Wanderlust, the Johnny Hodges classic from the thirties…
‘One of the great Ellington albums, one of the great Hawkins albums and one of the great albums of the 1960s,’ according to the New York Times.
The Barca-born pianist back to wow us again on piano, Fender Rhodes, Chinese gongs, and a little whistling; with longtime collaborator Masa Kamaguchi, and Detroit drum wizard Gerald Cleaver. ‘Where melodic density meets contrapuntal dialogue, a free interplay of rich textures and riveting, masterly improvisation. This smooth complexity is what gives rise to the group’s uniqueness.’
The Wire magazine hailed the first volume: ‘deep and thoughtful’.