JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #644.294!

Maxeen – Maxeen (Side One Dummy) :: Despite having a glam band name and an album produced by vintage Ramones producer Ed Stasium, this album’s pretty vacant and I don’t care.

2Pac – Nu-Mixx Klazzics (Death Row) :: This grave robbin’ rehash vaults Tupac Shakur into first place on the ‘Most Records Released By A Dead Musician’ list: 293, thus breaking the previous record of 292 which was formerly held by Jimi Hendrix. But once you get past the obvious Slade influence in the album title, there isn’t anything else here worth noting unless you want to hear half a dozen new vocalists making topical references to al-Qaeda in an attempt to make Tupes more relevant to a new generation of post-9/11 homies. File under: Slayola.

Foo Fighters – Everywhere But Home (Roswell) :: Anyone else would’ve popped a few antacids and gotten a quickie divorce but noooooooo. So thank heaven for nagging wives and upset stomachs or else we’d never have this three-hour documentary to kick around. You get so much blast for your buck on this single disc delight that it’s kinda hard to know where to begin. The Toronto show? The Washington show? The Reykjavik show? Look, isn’t it about time that you recorded over that old VHS copy of Live! Tonight! Sold Out! and stepped into the twenty-first century? Or would you rather take the easy way out—you know, like your denim-clad grunge hero did—and administer yourself an extra strength shot of Terminalin? Nah, I didn’t think so.

Natural Dreamers – Natural Dreamers (Frentic) :: Imagine Lou Reed being so depressed in 1966 after the first Velvets album tanked that he loaded up on smack and scotch, stumbled into a studio, and recorded an amateurish half hour of rudimentary jangling discordant instrumentals before finally overdosing. Well, this record is worse.

The Wildhearts – Riff After Riff (Gearhead) :: Ever wonder what KISS would sound like if they were influenced by the Monkees and produced by Todd Rundgren? Me neither.

SIZZLING PLATTERS OF THE WEEK: Ike Turner And The Kings Of Rhythm And Blues – A Black Man’s Soul (Tuff City) & Sam And The Soul Machine – Po’k Bones & Rice (Tuff City) :: If you’re in the meat market for some ultra fine ’n’ funky make-out music to slip on before you slip it in, then these two are right up your back alley. Ike’s A Black Man’s Soul is a percolatin’ slice of pudenda poppin’ screwdoo whose trippy spatial stereo separation will have you bouncin’ up against the buckboard. Then, just when you think that you’ve spunked out for the night, “Unca” Sam Henry’s previously unreleased organ-driven Po’k Bones & Rice will get you back up and keep you there for the duration. Music so drenched in slick shiny sweatola it could only have been recorded in ’69—if you catch my drift.

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #643.287!

Screamin’ Jay Hawkins – “I Put A Spell On You” (Grand) :: Amateur.

Suicide – “Frankie Teardrop” (Red Star) :: Amateurs.

Alice Cooper – “I Love The Dead” (Warner Bros.) :: Amateur.

Rolling Stones – “Too Much Blood” (Rolling Stones) :: Amateurs.

David Bowie – “We Are The Dead” (RCA) :: Amateur.

Iggy & The Stooges – “Death Trip” (Columbia) :: Amateurs.

Christina Crawford – Mommie Dearest (William Morrow & Co.) :: Nothing like writing a withering tell-all exposé about your Mother while she’s still alive and then waiting to publish it until after she’s dead and unable to defend herself. She’ll get you, my pretty...

Blue Öyster Cult – “Joan Crawford” (Columbia) :: Now listen up and listen good ’cause I’m here to tell ya that you can forget all about your Screamin’ Jay Hawkins moaning “I Put A Spell On You” and your Alice Cooper screaming “I Love The Dead” and your David Bowie crooning “We Are The Dead” and your Mick Jagger camping “Too Much Blood” and your Rob Zombie and your Marilyn Manson and your Stooges and your Suicide and every other Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour wannabe wax-recording spook show shockmeister because this is the most humorously horrifying song ever recorded, bar none, son—and I’m talking about humor that’s so black it seeps into an ultraviolet vein.

It all begins with an introductory gothic piano solo after which the band steps in to support a set of premonitory apocalyptic lyrics, the likes of which would make Bruce Springsteen roll over and tell Jim Steinman the news:

“Junkies down in Brooklyn are going crazy; they’re laughing just like hungry dogs in the street. Policemen are hiding behind the skirts of little girls; their eyes have turned the color of frozen meat. The sky is filled with herds of shivering angels...”

Then comes the scared stiff stutter-step chant that leads up to the caveat chorus:

“No. No, no, no. No, no, no-no-no-no-no-no: Joan Crawford has risen from the grave...”

And as if all that wasn’t enough to set the squalid scene, there follows a rapid-fire sound effects montage of coffin-cracking grave-escaping paranormal pandemonium gone wild including: the shriek of screeching tires; an automobile collision; a ringing telephone; a vacuum; a crying baby; ten pins falling in a bowling alley; a crowing rooster; a cash register being rung; a race track bugler; a starting gate bell; howling dogs; a steamship horn; and a burglar alarm that slowly fades into silence as a swirling vortex of scabrous sound heralds Joan Crawford’s return from the other side to confront her delinquent daughter:

“Christina... Mother’s Home... Christina... Come to Mother... Christina...”

The result is an uncanny audio experience that eerily evokes a mental image somewhere between the shambling misshapen creatures that “Ghastly” Graham Ingles used to draw for EC Comics and the equally unsettling thing waiting on the other side of the door in The Monkey’s Paw.

Faye Dunaway – Mommie Dearest (Paramount) :: ...and your little lapdog too!

Be spooking you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #642.285!

Hacienda – Big Red & Barbacoa (Alive) :: Don’t let the laconic opening track fool ya ’cause once they get going these mofos are more hyperactive than a gang-bangin’ nympho on her backdated birthday—and twice as hot. Bonus points for recording “I Keep Waiting” which is the greatest cross-border song that the Beach Boys never recorded.

The Plimsouls – Live! Beg, Borrow & Steal: October 31, 1981 Whisky A Go Go (Alive) :: Recorded close enough to the end of the ’70s to remain a certifiably cool historical document of the times, this one captures the rockin’ Plimsouls at their finest as they show why they’re the long lost missing musical link in an pop-rock lineage that stretches back to the Beatles and was inherited by Cheap Trick.

Brian Olive – Brian Olive (Alive) :: And speaking of rock royalty, sauntering out of left field like some kinda mutant bastitch offspring between piano-pimpin’ Randy Newman and sax-swillin’ David Bowie comes this genial gent who sounds like he was born after spending nine months with his sonic sensibilities slowly soaking in a vat of rock ’n’ roll.

The Black Keys – The Moan (Alive) :: When I first heard this white boy gitbox and traps duo on the radio whilst driving thought Mississippi, I initially took them to be denizens from the swamp-steeped colored contingency. That’s ’cause these four tracks are so stewed in primo distorto in-the-red primitivism it makes Raw Power sound like Wish You Were Here—and if you don’t believe me, just listen to their reverbo tremolo cover of Die Stooches’ “No Fun” which makes the original sound like it was recorded by the Longenes Symphony.

The Nerves – One Way Ticket (Alive) :: This certified cool catch-all compendium is the definitive must have one disc distillation of the Nerves’ late ’70s power pop puds. Almost everything you’d want to hear is here including their initial four track extended player; a brace of rare demos; and an overdose of live tracks—twenty songs in all. Bonus points for using vintage liner photos by Bongo Beat Records prexy Ralph Alfonso who, appropriately enough given the content, is Canada’s answer to the late great Greg Shaw of Bomp Records fame.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Buffalo Killers – 3 (Alive) :: Maybe that’s a wily reflection on their band name but, boy, do these guys ever have their vintage Buffalo Springfield sound down pat, with a scoop of classic Neil Young mixed in to make everything go down smooth. Luckily for them, they somehow manage to transcend the comparison by managing to paradoxically come up with their own twangy sound, as witnessed by songs like the short and sweet “Everyone Knows It But You” and the utterly amiable “Circle Day” which is sloppy enough to have a choppy verve and swerve all its own. For what it’s worth, there’s something happening here. What it is, is exactly clear.

Ramones – It’s Alive! (Sire) :: Geddit?

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #641.284!

Paul Rodgers – Live At Montreux: 1994 (Eagle) :: Jeepers Mister Kent! Miss Lane and I were listening to this great new Paul Rodgers compact disc and you should have heard it when Brian May came out on “Good Morning Little School Girl” to shred our ears with some of the gnarliest guitar work you ever heard! Even better was when Mister Rogers did the mandatory crowd-pleasing closers of Bad Company’s “Can’t Get Enough” and Free’s “All Right Now”! But best of all was when he introduced the bass player by asking: “Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s John Smithson”! What do you think of that, Mister Kent?

Black Country Communion – Black Country Communion 2 (Mascot) :: Well, Jimmy, it sounds to me like you’d also enjoy listening to the best hard rock band in the world.

Night Beats – Night Beats (Trouble In Mind) :: Monophonic beach blanket garage music that sounds like it was recorded by Kill Spector in his death row jail cell—and with song titles like “Dial 666” it probably was.

Henry’s Funeral Shoe – Donkey Jacket (Alive) :: Pudknockin’ power trios are so passé these days ’cause any plugged-in spuzz can make a ton of noise if he’s got two guys covering his amp. Luckily, the minimalist in me prefers a power duo just like this two-headed guitar and traps aggregation which cranks out more gritty and grimy blooze rock than you’ve got a legal right to hear, y’hear?

Mikal Cronin – Mikal Cronin (Trouble In Mind) :: Jing-janglin’ pop-infused guitar ditties lacquered with a charming patina of primitivism that’ll have you hunkered down and hankering for a hanky, they’re that heartfelt.

Radio Moscow – The Great Escape Of Leslie Magnafuzz (Alive) :: This heavy funked-up fuzzbox-infused excursion into the ether is so chock full o’unexpected sonic delights it sounds like some kinda illegitimate sonic offspring of Iron Butterfly and Kyuss. Or is that Blue Cheer and Grand Funk? Either way, it’s so terminally trippy that you’ll get a contact high just by listening to it.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Nathanial Mayer – Why Won’t You Let Me Be Black? (Alive) :: What’s that? You want to talk about what? Soul? What about soul? You think you know soul? You don’t know soul. You’ve got what? Stax? Motown? Please. Don’t embarrass yourself. That’s not soul. That’s showbiz. As processed as a pomaded ’do. You want soul? You want Nat Mayer. Now that’s soul. Rough. Raw. Soul. Of course he looks old. Man lived almost six and a half decades before he went to see the Lord. He’s doing more for soul dead than you’re doing alive. What’s that? Well, you could listen to his record for one thing. Might learn something. Be like soaking your head in some brains. What’s that?

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #640.283!

Elvis Presley – Fun With Elvis On Stage (RCA) :: Wherein the record company that gleefully gave the world Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music—a quadraphonic two album set consisting of nothing but over an hour’s worth of relentless shrieking atonal feedback—cheerfully compounds the fracture by also issuing for your listening pleasure this non-singing, non-dancing, all-talking monophonic two sided album which ain’t nuthin’ but a haphazard cut-and-paste forty minute audio collage of Elvis goofing around with his screaming audiences between songs.

As far as audio car crashes go, it’s kinda like listening to the Rolling Stones’ Get Yer Yas Yas Out! if that album contained nothing but the bantam singer’s banal banter. I mean, can you see any difference between Mick Jagger saying: “Ah think ah bust a button on mah trousers; hope they don’t fawl down” and Elvis Presley saying: “My belt’s falling off, my suit’s getting too big... You know what I can’t do? Get my belt tightened up.” Nah, I didn’t think so.

It reminds me of the time back in 1970 when I saw the Jefferson Airplane and Grace Slick kept asking if anyone in the audience had a safety pin because her red dress kept falling down and she—but I digress.

One thing you do have to give Elvis credit for is that he always appears lucid enough to know where he is and what he’s doing at all times, as witnessed by the following extraordinary moment when he stops the proceedings to candidly confess: “I don’t know what happened, folks; I just go nuts sometimes” before rhetorically asking: “You didn’t know you were coming to see a crazy man, didja?” and then concluding: “They’ll put me a straight jacket and take me away.”

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Lindsay Buckingham – Seeds We Sow (Eagle) :: Lindsay sure don’t look none too happy on the album cover where his doleful demeanor is made manifest by the tense white-knuckle stranglehold death grip he has on his guitar. And while that may sound like a recipe for unbridled musical melancholia, the good news is that this is the most enjoyable and eccentrically ingenious melancholy album you’ll hear this side of Unca Lou’s Berlin or Unca Neil’s Tonight’s The Night or Unca John’s Fear. Bonus points for daring to transform the Stones’ saccharine “She Smiled Sweetly” into a deeper and far more dangerous realm of heartfelt desperation. Mmm-mmm-good!

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S ROCK ’N’ ROLL PHOTOGRAPHS

While you’re visiting, don’t forget to view the dozens of essential selections from my vast archive of hundreds of extremely rare and previously unseen rock ’n’ roll photographs from the 1970s and 1980s—all of which were taken by myself from my front row center seat at various venerable venues; vintage historical portraits which include the following rock stars caught in their youthful prime:

David Bowie (1976 Station To Station tour) :: Lou Reed (1974 Sally Can’t Dance tour) :: Iggy Pop (1977 The Idiot tour) :: Bob Dylan (1978 Street Legal tour) :: George Harrison (1974 Dark Horse tour) :: Paul McCartney (1976 Wings Over America tour) :: Pete Townshend (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: Johnny Winter (1976 Captured Live! tour) :: Jeff Beck (1975 Blow By Blow tour) :: KISS (1977 Love Gun tour) :: Alice Cooper (1975 Welcome To My Nightmare tour) :: Freddie Mercury (1977 News Of The World tour) :: Amanda Lear (1975 Sweet Revenge tour) :: Rod Stewart (1977 Foot Loose & Fancy Free tour) :: Mick Jagger (1975 It’s Only Rock ’n Roll tour) :: New York Dolls (1975 Tokyo Dolls Live tour) :: Keith Richards (1975 It’s Only Rock ’n Roll tour) :: Ian Hunter (1989 YUI Orta tour) :: Elton John (1974 Caribou tour) :: Mick Ronson (1989 YUI Orta tour) :: Steven Tyler (1977 Draw The Line tour) :: Sparks (1975 Indiscreet tour) :: James Brown (1986 Gravity tour) :: Miles Davis (1985 You’re Under Arrest tour) :: Roger Daltrey (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: Bruce Springsteen & Clarence Clemons (1975 Born To Run tour) :: John Entwistle (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: Keith Moon (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: The Who (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: and more!

Ask any dealer and he’ll tell you that the best way to get someone hooked on your product is to give them a free sample, so here’s just a small taste of what’s coming your way when you click on the eleven gallery links to your left:

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #639.282!

Sly & The Family Stone – Woodstock (Atlantic) :: Everybody’s got their own favorite musical Woodstock moment and this hyperactive fourteen minute medley remains mine. Not only will the sheer level of exuberance on display keep you up at night for weeks, just one listen is convulsively callisthenic enough to make you shed all those excess pounds in the process. Say, whatever happened to Sly Stone anyway?

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Sly Stone – I’m Back! Family & Friends (Cleopatra) :: 30 YEARS IN THE MAKING and ALL NEW RECORDINGS brazenly blares the superhype cover sticker only to ’fess up with a back cover blurb which admits that this ain’t nothin’ but an elpee of re-recorded gazillion year old greatest hits—and don’t that just sound like a misguided recipe for sonic disaster even if it is ably aided and abetted by a buncha high profile guest stars ranging in rank from Jeff Beck and Ray Manzarek to Bootsy Collins and Johnny Winter?

Little Richard once pulled a similar stunt when he re-recorded his greatest hits live in the studio for a package called, oddly enough, Little Richard’s Greatest Hits Recorded Live. And although that album actually managed to buck the odds by being the amped-up equivalent of his earlier studio work, let’s face it: rare is the time that such revised recordings actually work—which is why I’m pleased as punch to report that this one works just as well.

The first reason why it works is because, like Richard’s record before him, Sly’s timeless classics are beyond any revisionary butchering.

The second reason is that the hired gun choices are well thought out vis-à-vis which song they’re assigned to. F’rinstance, having Manzarek do the organ work on “Dance To The Music” is an inspired move that turns mischievous when he has the temerity to start his solo by tossing in the riff from “Light My Fire.” Equally enthused is veteran saxsmith Ernie Watts’ wailing work on “Stand!” And if John Dawson’s work on “Thank You” is relatively invisible due to a mix down mishap, whatcha gonna do, brother, when Beckamania runs wild over “(I Want To Take You) Higher” with an insane outta control high octane intensity that sets the stage for his fellow Bootzilla Orchestra confrere Mister Collins, who likewise stomps all over “Hot Fun In The Summertime” with his registered trademark bass and vocals.

The third reason is that Sly’s voice, while ragged, remains right enough to strike the proper funky tone just like it used to do.

In other words, I’m Back! is a sly way of reintroducing Sly to a brand new crowd. Whether it’ll foreshadow a fresh era of Sly Stone musical inventiveness is anyone’s guess but, despite his past proclivities, I sure wouldn’t bet against the cat, would you?

Bonus points for indulgently including some radical eletrodub mixes that’ll have you bouncing off the walls so fast it’ll make your head spin.

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #638.281!

Terry Riley – A Rainbow In Curved Air & Persian Surgery Dervishes (Columbia) :: Terry is the “Riley” in the Who’s “Baba O’Riley” because he’s the visionary musician who influenced Pete Townshend’s ARP synthesizer sequencer work on Who’s Next—and both of these innovative electric organ albums are the unrivaled apex of trippy hypnotic meditative trance music. By way of contrast, 1966’s landmark A Rainbow In Curved Air is an iridescent triumph of intricate studio overdubbing while Persian Surgery Dervishes is an extraordinary amalgamation of two live performances that Riley gave in 1971 and 1972. Just make sure that you listen to both albums either through headphones or with your ears strategically spaced between two speakers to properly experience the full spiritual stereophonic effect.

Steve Reich – “Come Out” (Nonesuch) :: Now your mind is sufficiently lubricated to take on this equally-epochal phase-shifted spoken word transmogrification.

Bill Cosby – Is A Very Funny Fellow...Right! (1963) - I Started Out As A Child (1964) - Why Is There Air? (1965) - Wonderfulness (1966) - Revenge (1967) - To Russell, My Brother, Whom I Slept With (1968) (Warner Bros.) :: Others may have been the Rolling Stones or Doors of stand-up comedy but, back in the seminal ’60s, Bill Cosby was the undisputed trend-setting ground-breaking Beatles of stand-up—and these six albums, released in six consecutive years, the latter half of which were recorded while Cos was co-starring with the equally urbane Robert Culp in I Spy, prove it. If you haven’t heard them in decades, then it’s about time that you heard them again. And if you’ve never heard them, then it’s imperative that you do because Wonderfulness; Revenge; and To Russell, My Brother, Whom I Slept With are to comedy what Rubber Soul; Revolver; and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band are to music. And speaking of musical comedy...

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Bing Crosby & Dinah Shore & Bob Hope & Frank Sinatra & Judy Garland & Jimmy Durante & The Andrew Sisters & Frank Morgan & Jerry Colonna – Dick Tracy In B Flat (Armed Forces Radio Service) :: This hour-long episode of Command Performance, which was originally broadcast to our brave men and women in uniform on Valentine’s Day in 1945, is available as a free ‘old time radio’ public domain download and proves that they really don’t make ’em like they used to. After all, where else can you hear Crosby as Dick Tracy and Hope as Flattop, exchanging dialogue like this:

HOPE: Drop that gun and turn around, Tracy!

CROSBY: If that voice belongs to who I think it does, I may never turn around.

HOPE: What a pleasure. I’ve always wanted to have a gun in this guy’s back.

CROSBY: Yeah, and you can pull it up a little, too.

HOPE: Sorry, I was gonna blow your brains out.

Be seeing you!

GARLAND: Flattop, I appeal to you on bended knee!

HOPE: Kid, you appeal to me in any position.

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #637.280!

Sonics Rendezvous Band – Live, Masonic Auditorium, Detroit, January 14, 1978 (Alive) :: This exhilarating, apostrophe deficient, comma-clad, louder than life lease-breaker was recorded in living mono on a lousy Maxell C-90 audiocassette and yet I still keep playing it habitually. Now that’s what I call the hallmark of a truly great live rock ’n’ roll album—and so will you as soon as you hear it.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: James Williamson & Iggy Pop – Kill City (Alive) :: I bought this long-lost missing link between Raw Power and The Idiot when it first came out some zillion years ago, at which point I lauded it as quite the auditory accomplishment. But that’s nothing compared to how enthused I am about Kill City now that it’s finally been remixed from the original masters under the watchful eye of album producer Straight James himself—even if he isn’t actually credited as such on the record; you can trust me on this one, folks.

You can also trust me when I tell ya that the new and drastically improved sound is more potent than a broken beer bottle heaved at your bobbing peroxide head. Purists may be peeved that a few songs get fiddled around with by fading up a few new multi-tracks in lieu of the older ones—most notably during the guitar passages on “Kill City”—but no matter how much you may have the original vinyl version burned into your brain, I guaranteed that your noggin will gladly accept these new values after only a few rotary motions. And while we’re talking about the title track, it behooves me to point out that the handclaps now crack as crisply as a snappin’ slave ship whip while the ragged backing vocals actually have a dissipated Exile On Main St. edge to them. Oh, and did I forget to mention the barely audible part of the proceedings wherein an agitated Igg apes Williamson’s unreasonably abrasive guitar fills with his own inimitable imitative vocal screech just before he begins the vocals? I thought not.

As for the rest of the album—from the sax-soaked noir ballad of inoperable obsession “Johanna” to the clued-up cautionary street-walkin’ tale “Sell Your Love”—Kill City remains a achingly mature work that eschews the brainy turn-of-phrase lyrics and brutal turn-of-stomach music of Raw Power in favor of a far more thoughtful and elegiac eleven step program of sanity survival.

And if things didn’t quite work out exactly as planned, don’t fault the two primary participants because they gave it their best shot while laboring under a stacked deck of circumstances that would’ve crushed lesser mortals like you and I into dust. That both James Williamson and Iggy Pop not only managed to subsequently survive but successfully thrive only proves that they are the greatest.

Iggy & The Stooges – Raw Power (Columbia) :: Because man does not live by achingly mature work alone.

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #636.279!

Tiesto – Just Be (Magic Music) :: Eh, what a maroon. The sticker on the front cover brags that Tiesto’s “The #1 DJ In The World” yet he begins track one with over three minutes of aimlessly anemic synthesized symphonic string music that would make even Jean Michael Jarre cringe with embarrassment. Three minutes? Dude, you lost your bass and drum audience at the 15 second mark. And take a letter, Maria: we like our B&D tracks blended and crossfaded into a single cohesive soundscape, not individually separated. Oh, and one more thing: if you’re going to steal your album cover from Eno’s Before And After Science, then you’d gosh darn well better live up to it instead of dishing out the usual high-hat disco dross clichés.

SIZZLING VIDEO OF THE WEEK – SIDE ONE: The Beatles – Let It Be: Deluxel 35mm Widescreen Stereo Edition (Double D) :: After spending big chunks of change to finally restore the Let It Be movie for public consumption, it figures that Paul and Ringo would then get cold feet and veto its release on the grounds that it makes the band look bad. Which is a nice way of saying that they both watched it and were horrified to find that it makes the bassman look like a domineering boss man and the drummer decidedly comatose.

Luckily you can watch this release instead, which is the most pristine copy you’ll ever find—especially since it includes not only the original thin theatrical soundtrack but a new and vastly improved digital one that’s been synced to the studio stereo multitracks and the original Nagra tapes. The back cover blurb says that the source material is a videotape which was recorded when the film was shown in widescreen format on the BBC back in 1982, but don’t you believe it because the high visual quality says that this came from a good telecine of an original 35mm print. My friend, can you prove otherwise?

SIZZLING VIDEO OF THE WEEK – SIDE TWO: The Beatles – Get Back: The Outtakes (Double D) :: And while you’re at it, make sure that you pick up this definitive two disc collection of Twickenham and Apple outtakes which contains just about everything that you’d want to see, from the infamous Goon Show encounter wherein a smack-smitten Lennon dispenses some timely personal advice to a bathroom-bound Peter Sellers: “Just don’t leave the needles lying around, you know. We’ve got a bad reputation now with John getting busted and that!” to the mixing board moment when the band decides to release “Get Back” as their next 45:

George: Let’s put it out as a single.

John: Okay, let’s knock it off as a single then.

George: What was the last single?

Paul: “Hey Jude.”

George: Let’s finish it off as a single.

Paul: [slyly smiling] Oh yeah?

John: We’ll do “Part Two” on the backside.

Paul: [slyly smiling] I’m easy, lads.

Ringo: zzzzzzzz

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #635.278!

Alice Cooper – Alice Cooper Goes To Hell (Warner Bros.) :: Amateur.

Anna Atkinson – Mooniture (self released) :: So I’m spinnin’ the first song and suddenly thinking that, no, the absolute last thing I wanna do is say that Anna is the new Nico ’cause she seems to be way too normal to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag. But every time I hear the viola sonorously slither up beside her, I get flummoxed into thinking that I’m listening to some kinda vintage John Cale creation before remembering that, no, Anna seems to be way too normal to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag. And then I’m spinnin’ the second song which starts: “The inside of my head sounds like a choir of trumpets ever since the accident” and suddenly I’m thinking that, yes, Anna is the new Nico ’cause she’s way too abnormal to be saddled with anything less than that kind of calamitous tag.

AC/DC – Highway To Hell (Atlantic) :: Amateurs.

Desmond Grundy – Oddly Enough (self released) :: So I’m spinnin’ the first song and suddenly thinking that, no, the absolute last thing I wanna do is say that Desmond is the new Lou Reed ’cause he seems to be way too normal to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag. But every time I hear the gnarly destorto guitar grinding up behind him, I get flummoxed into thinking that I’m listening to some kinda vintage Velvet Underground gradation. And suddenly I’m thinking, yes, that’s cool because nobody sounds like Unca Lou anymore—not even the old reprobate himself ’cause he’s way too normal these days to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag.

Diamanda Galás – You Must Be Certain Of The Devil (Mute) :: Amateur.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Notar – Devil’s Playground (Tyrannosaurus) :: When it comes to writing and rapping, Notar can go toe to toe with the best of ’em and then best the rest of ’em. What immediately elevates this admirable effort above and beyond all other recent rap records is the sheer ambitious scope of the studio production coupled with an accompaniment of eclectic instrumentation that effortlessly oscillates from track to track between hot snatches of Prince-style synthesizer; deep scratches of melodramatic Queen choir backing vocals; and wet splashes of Zeppelinesque guitar and strings.

But what really anchors the proceedings with a rock-solid foundation are the songs, which range in rage from the sulfuric subject matter of the cautionary title track to the social satire of the anthemic “Alcoholic” to the so-goofy-it’s-great musical history lesson “Perseverance” which dares to narratively name-check a whole gaggle of groups from the Yardbirds and Velvets to Boston and Rush. Now that’s what I call being a professional. Bonus points for having a name that, backwards, reminds me of a 1976 comedy album title.

Bill Cosby – Bill Cosby Is Not Himself These Days Rat Own Rat Own Rat Own (Capitol) :: Riiight!

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #634.276!

Alyssa Reid – The Game (Wax) :: “I didn’t see that coming” says a stock-sampled voice at the end of the first track, and it sure knows whereof it speaks because this one starts out with a plaintive solo piano paean in the sensitive style of Tori Amos only to shift into a brief church choir vamp that hints at a potential future as an art rock practitioner. Then everything belly-flops into a generic mung of breathy squeaky-voiced girl power angst-ridden ballads and mandatory guest star macho raps, all of which come straight outta Xerox Studios complete with embarrassing cringe-inducing lyrics like this one: “I feel like Spider-Man, you got me flyin’ offa the wall.” Calling Doc Ock!

Ramones – “Spider-Man” (Sire) :: Julie Taymor should’ve hired these guys instead. So what if they’re all dead? They’d still do a better job.

UME – Phantoms (Modern Outsider) :: And so would these guys ’cause they crank out a power pop pulse that has absolutely everything you want to hear as the summer winds down and the winter winds up—and that includes a surfeit of jing-jangly guitars; chirpy-chick vocals; and skin-slammin’ beats to keep your ten toes aligned and tappin’ in time. Even better, they’re not adverse to shifting gears and submerging into an echoing ethereal environment of evocative emotion. You know, kinda like a midnight meeting of the minds between Portishead and Sandii & The Sunsetz.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: The Doobie Brothers – Live At The Greek Theatre: 1982 (Eagle) :: Brothers and sisters, I’m ashamed to admit it now but, back in the day, I had no time for these guys—which only goes to show what kind of a snooty stuck-up snob I was. Maybe if they’d called themselves the Coke Brothers instead, I might’ve been interested. And you can bet your bottom dollar that an old Glam Rock adherent like myself would’ve been there in a Jobriath heartbeat had they gone the blown tranny route and called themselves the Smack Sisters. Heck, even an inner city moniker like the Crack Cousins could’ve caught my attention but, c’mon, the Doobie Brothers? Oh, pshaw; it is to laugh.

Well, better late if ever I always say—and that’s why I’m man enough to ’fess up and admit that I was as wrong as wrong can be when I lifted my leg on these guys ’cause this is one of the hottest and downright funkiest live albums I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing. Shucks, even the smooth-as-silk make out ballads have enough pudenda-pounding potential to make you wanna conduct your own baton-brandishing bedspring symphony, if you catch my drift. But whatever you do, don’t make the same mistake that I did. Go out and buy this raucous rip-roarin’ record now, while there’s still time to save your musical soul.

I guess I should’ve listened to Frampton Comes Alive and Saturday Night Fever when they came out, too, huh?

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #633.275!

Jim Morrison music by The Doors – An American Prayer (Elektra) :: Morrison Hotel may be the apex of his Doors career but, if you ignore the superfluous bonus tracks and stick with the original vinyl incarnation, this is Jimbo’s finest solo moment, however posthumous. His surviving band mates did him good by crafting an album that’s so restrained it sneaks up on you every time you think you’ve got it memorized. It’s just too bad that the singer himself never got to hear it becaus—oh, that’s right, I almost forget: Jim is alive, man!

Bad Company – Live At Wembley (Eagle) :: I saw them in the ’70s on their first North American tour as the opening act for someone—maybe it was Screaming Lord Sutch—and they were so good that I walked out before the headliners even hit the stage—possibly it was the Masked Marauders—and went straight to my friendly neighborhood record store; shelled out $2.99 to buy a copy of their debut album; headed home; slapped it on the old Victrola; and was shocked by how dead ass dull it was compared to their dynamic live show. Well, this new offering is the butane barn-burner I expected to hear that night, from Paul Rogers’ hyper-studly “Can’t Get Enough” to Mick Ralph’s Hoople-standard “Ready For Love” and beyond. Wait, I remember, it was Cat Mother and the All Night Newsboys!

The Prodigy – Live: The World’s On Fire (The End) :: The only band that matters never sounded as bludgeoningly brutal as they do on this audio-video twofer. When the singer sagely says: “I hear thunder but there’s no rain! This kind of thunder breaks walls and window panes!” he ain’t talkin’ about unbridled nature, he’s talkin’ about an unnatural aural assault propelled by a bowel-buffeting bass that’s so severe it makes the bottom end on “Instant Karma” sound like a crumpled ball of tin foil by comparison. Despite ostensibly being a tour souvenir album inevitably infused with a surfeit of songs from Invaders Must Die, all the global game changers are accounted for, including the iconic “Firestarter” and the heroic “Smack My Bitch Up.” The real Prodigy experience, however, is on the second disc’s full-length video, which readily redefines what a live performance oughtta be.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: James Lee Stanley and Cliff Eberhardt – All Wood And Doors (MVD Audio) :: Already they’re calling this one a CSN version of the Doors, but that’s just lazy shorthand by so-called “music journalists” who never heard of the Kingston Trio. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon now; trust me, Babe: can’t you see that I am not afraid to say that this tastefully acoustic guitar session is nothing less than a bluesy stripped-down symposium that showcases how truly timeless their greatest hits really are? Bonus points for being accompanied by erstwhile Doors members Robbie Krieger and John Densmore; plus previous Monkee Peter Tork. Hey hey, they’re the Doorkees!

Stronger than dirt!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #632.274!

See Green – Ultramarine (self released) :: When she’s not busy waxing philosophical on “Are You Happy” like some kinda latter-day female George Harrison (“Are you losin’ focus when you need to find it? ’Cause your tape is rolling and you can’t rewind it!”), multi-instrumentalist Courtney Green is busy waxing rhetorical on three additional dreamy synth-soaked throwback tracks like some kinda latter-day female Todd Rundgren in his Something/Anything? pure pop heyday. And although Courtney’s chirpy cooing can cajole your cajones, don’t make the mistake of confusing her whimsy for weakness ’cause she can also kick like a government mule. Go ahead, ignore her.

Friend Slash Lover – As American As Ones And Zeros (self released) :: The sonic scent of early arch-histrionic Bowie fused with the dry wry wit of early angst-ridden Sparks. Could use more of a dance beat, though.

Truth Panel – Preliminary Hearing (self released) :: This one gets bonus points awarded right off the top for having a smart band name and an equally brainy album title that conceptually fits the former. Even better, the band actually lives up to that initial assertion by offering up eleven tracks that sound like Ian Hunter refereeing a back alley balladeer brawl between Elliott Murphy and Leonard Cohen with the Tragically Hip serving as special guest enforcer. Points deducted for having an atrociously abysmal album cover and brutally banal band logo, both of which should’ve been credited to “Medusa” because one look at either of them will turn you into stone.

Friend Slash Lover – friendslashlover.remixed (self released) :: Now this is more like it! Aquarhythms meets Nash The Slash on this senses-expanding four track extended player that’s one of the best remix records I’ve heard since the League Unlimited Orchestra’s Love And Dancing—and how long has it been since that little gem came out? Exactly.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: T-Model Ford and GravelRoad – Taledragger (Alive) :: T-Model Ford is this gravelly voiced gazillion-year-old bluesman who’s got more hot spunk loaded in the little finger of his left hand than you’ve got in your entire spuzzy wang dang doodle—and that goes double for alla youse loose wimmens; triple for alla youse tight ones. Meanwhile, GravelRoad is the three young gun-slingin’ spuds who have the honor of backin’ up T-Model Ford as he wails righteously on these eight titanic testifyin’ tracks. Believe you me, this is the authentic blooze sound that Jimmy Page sold his sordid soul to snatch, but never managed to snare. Bonus points for the monochromatic cover photography by my old confrère Mr. Robert Matheu because, as we all know, you can get T-Model Ford in any color you like, just as long as it’s black.

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #631.273!

White Zombie – Let Sleeping Corpses Lie (Geffen) :: Five discs containing almost every non-remix track and video released between ’85 and ’95, with the early stuff remaining as embarrassingly execrable as the later stuff is extraordinarily exciting. Bonus points for including a complete pristine print of Béla Lugosi’s 1932 namesake movie White Zombie as a hidden video. Points deducted for not scene-indexing it.

David Bowie & Deep Purple – Tin Machine Head (RCA) :: Includes the hit single “Highway Stardust.”

Saga – Heads Or Tales Live (Eagle) :: Because a day without prog rock is like a day without sunshine, you’ll wanna get your tea shades on for this blinding new offering that fits the prog rock bill with its sure-fire surfeit of squeaky guitars lines; shimmering synth lines; and soaring vocal lines. That’s a lot of lines to do in one sitting so you’d better start now because this excellent album’s nothing to sniff at.

SIZZLING LIVE PLATTER OF THE WEEK: ZZ Top – Live In Germany: 1980 (Eagle) :: Although some like to fine dine uptown next to the Church Of The Latter Day Top, I’d rather dumpster dive in a seedier section of town for the remnants of a vintage Double Z burger served slightly raw and scorched around the edges. That’s why I enjoy aurally chowing down on this live long player a whole heckuva lot more than I do trying to digest their recent “official” release, the slickly smooth Live In Texas.

Y’see, Texas includes the FDA’s recommended daily dose of megahits that every nubile nubbin needs to gulp, but only Germany dares to dish out a greasy heapin’ helpin’ of earlier era entertainment, starting with a main course consisting of such vintage brown paper bag specials as “Fool For Your Stockings” and “Manic Mechanic.” Then add a side order of Bob Johnson’s “Dust My Broom” and garnish with an epic paint blistering version of “Le Grange” that slams into both “Sloppy Drunk” and “Bar-B-Q” before finally careening to a blown-tranny halt.

SIZZLING STUDIO PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Carl Dixon – Lucky Dog (DD) :: “Lucky” ain’t the word to describe a guy who got seriously smearcased in a horrific head-on collision only to improbably survive and then ambitiously thrive, but it’s one heckuva good start. Now some of you may remember Carl from his Coney Hatch days but it’s no hangin’ matter if you don’t ’cause this inspiring new album cleans Coney’s clock six ways to Sunday.

You can take it from me when I tell ya that Lucky Dog is a classic rock fan’s delight because it sounds just like it was recorded back in the halcyonic ’70s. Even better, it ranks right up there in the heartfelt department with such like-minded laid-back long-players as Luther Grosvenor’s Under Open Skies and Neil Young’s Harvest. Bonus bravery points for having the intestinal fortitude and spiritual wherewithal to write a soul survivor song titled “Stitches, Sutures & Staples.”

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #630.271!

Booker T. & The MGs – McLemore Avenue (Stax) :: Brothers and sisters, the Stax Remasters series just keeps strollin’ on with one of the more notable reissues being this vital mostly-instrumental remake/remodel of Abbey Road, which was recorded in 1969 mere months after the Beatles released their iconic album. One of the things that makes McLemore Avenue so memorably unique is that, rather than ape the album’s actual 17 track running order, the band opted instead to scuttle four songs and reconfigure the remaining 13 into only four tracks, three of which contain lengthy resequenced medleys. The result is a soulfully smooth stylistic retooling that doesn’t attempt to imitate so much as it inventively extrapolates and augments—and that goes double for Booker’s remaining Beatle takes which are included as bonus tracks.

The Beatles – Green Apples (Parlophone) :: I wish.

Johnnie Taylor – Taylored In Silk (Stax) :: Meanwhile, this smooth as you know what masterpiece from Stax’s resident blues wailin’ Soul Philosopher finds him in fine fettle, most notably on the cautionary up-tempo tale “It’s Cheaper To Keep Her” wherein JT tells every man what he oughtta do if he didn’t heed Cab Calloway’s earlier era entreaty to beware, brother, beware: “You’re tied up, you better stay tied up ’cause it’s cheaper to keep her! Son, you’re gonna pay some alimony or do some time!”

Marvin Gaye – Here, My Dear (Motown) :: Exactly!

Johnnie Taylor – Taylored In Silk (Stax) :: But that’s nothing compared to the equal opportunity advice JT offers to unfaithful finks everywhere: “If somebody can steal an airplane out from out of the sky, when you look around, somebody’s done stole your love right from under your eye! You know what they call that, boy? Hijackin’ love!”

Eric Clapton – Layla (Polydor) :: Ex...

George Harrison – Bye Bye Love (Dark Horse) :: ...actly! 

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: The Staple Singers – Be Altitude: Respect Yourself (Stax) :: Simply put, this is one of the greatest R&B slash Funk slash Pop albums ever waxed for public posterity, period. It’s also educationally enlightening in that when the Staples sing: “You the kind of gentleman that want everything your way; take the sheet off your face boy, it’s a brand new day” on the titular title track they ain’t just whistlin’ in Dixie. Nor are they kidding any less when they wax poetic on the musically minimal but no less persuasive “I’ll Take You There”—and those are just the two tracks that you already know about, what with them being global hit singles and all.

In the meantime, which is definitely a groovy time, wrapped around those two stellar standouts are eight additional awe-inspiring essays that effortlessly unite into one giant groove-laden feel-good celebration of faith and fidelity. Which is why, if you only buy one reissue album this year, you really oughtta ensure that it’s this one because your heart and soul will thank you for it later—in spades.

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #629.270!

Pear – Extemp’ore (PearStudio) :: I’ll play it and tell you what it is later.

Bob Hilliard – Stop, You’re Killing Me (Warner Bros.) :: When roses and chocolates aren’t enough, remember that the greatest romantic lyric ever penned comes courtesy of this 1952 Damon Runyon gangster musical starring Broderick “10-4” Crawford: “While you’re fascinatin’ me, you’re assassinatin’ me.”

Nazareth – Big Dogz (Eagle) :: Ignore the abominable album cover that looks as if it had been designed way back in 1975 by Helen Keller on a Altair 8800 ’cause what’s inside is the heir of the dog that first tore a chunk outta your hide way back in, well, 1975. Once again spearheaded by the gritty scotch garglin’ vocals of Dan McCafferty, this is your basic meat and potatoes platter that doesn’t waste any time with frilly filigree garnishes on the side that no one needs. Bonus points for writing the exemplary “When Jesus Comes To Save The World Again” which is arguably one of the most superlative sanctified songs since ZZ Top’s “Jesus Just Left Chicago” was put in perpetual heavy rotation on Heaven’s Hit Parade.

Sparks – No. 1 In Heaven (Elektra) :: Written, of course, by the mightiest hand.

Twisted Sister – Under The Blade: Special Edition (Armoury) :: Is this deluxe reissue of the Sister’s 1982 debut an album of Alice Cooper metal or a disc of David Bowie glam? Only their scaredresser knows for sure, so the boys keep swinging both ways in search of a breakthrough teen anthem. Until then, the music plays second fiddle to the visuals, which is why the accompanying album-length DVD is essential viewing for frizzy hair and filed teeth aficionados everywhere!

Pear – Extemp’ore (PearStudio) :: Okay, having played it, I can tell you that this one opens with an admirable Miles tribute called “Dewey Davis” that contains spoken word advice from the man with the horn while the band provides an apropos sonic canvas over which Miles can rasp. After that, there follows a series of one-take tracks which run the stylistic gamut from Enoesque ambient jazz (“The Frenchman”) to extended ethereal jam sessions (“Session 15”) to progressive percussive paeans (“Von Schkinny”). But what really holds the whole thing together conceptually is the sheer ambitious scope of its sonic eclecticism which effectively ensures that each track has its own individual sound.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Lori Cullen – That Certain Chartreuse (self released) :: This certain chanteuse is back with a new album of classy jazzy covers that’s chock-a-block a-brimmin’ with reams of poise ’n’ perfection. The music is sparse in an elegant early evening ‘getting to know you’ way that isn’t afraid to occasionally apply a leisurely late night ‘let’s get more than friendly’ technique. Meanwhile, Lori’s voice is a multi-tracked delight that effortlessly flits from Samantha Sang (“Emotion”) and Gordon Lightfoot (“Rainy Day People”) to Peggy Lee (“Baubles, Bangles, And Beads”) and, strangely believe it, King Crimson (“Matte Kudasai”).

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #628.269!

The Sweetness – What’s It Like to Be A Sprinkler, I Wonder? (self released) :: Wherein a spate of mesmerizing double-tracked she-vocals slink against a spooky setting of sparse folksy blues. Don’t let the band name fool you because, as the album title intimates in its own wonky way, this is one record that goes beyond being merely idiosyncratic into a darker vein that dares to redefine the very essence of irrational ire that’s disconcertingly dire.

Rory Gallagher – Notes From San Francisco (Eagle Rock) :: It’s a safe bet that nobody ever went to a Rory Gallagher concert to hear him sing and the brakeless speed-wheelin’ live side of this hoarse-larynxed twofer is ample proof of that. But the real rockin’ revelation can be found on first disc’s unveiling of a previously unreleased studio album that The Roar waxed way back in 1977 and then was forced to shelve after he was unable to properly mix the master tapes; you know, like he was defeated dealing with Raw Power or something. Luckily, some modern whizz kid’s managed to get his vacuum tubes in a row and finally finish the job, with the result being that this is one instant classic rock record that’s more than worth waiting three and a half decades for! And speaking of classic rock concoctions...

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Who Cares – “Out Of My Mind” b/w “Holy Water” (Armoury) :: At first I thought this was some kinda new Who single, but no such luck. Then I thought that mebbe it was some kinda Who tribute single that covered two songs I’d never heard before, but nuh-uh. Then I finally realized that I was beholding that rarest of beasts; a stubborn survivor from the last of a dying breed long thought extinct: a supergroup.

That’s right, what we got here is a titanic team-up of such legendary luminaries as Ian Gillian, Tony Iommi, Jon Lord, and Jason Newsted. Now given that stellar starting line-up, it’s pretty much a given that this ain’t no run of the mill retro regurgitation. In fact, it sounds about as good as you’d expect it to—but the thing that really makes this classic rock reunion worth your while is Gillian’s vocals, both of which are a certifiable hoot and a half.

On “Out Of My Mind” he does a fair to middling ululating David Bowie impersonation all the way through the song, except on the bridge when he opts to adopt an Ozzy Osbourne voice instead. But that’s nothing compared to the uncanny channeling of Ian Anderson that Gillian does on “Holy Water.” Indeed, were someone to pull a Juke Box Jury and tell you that what you were listening to was a previously unreleased Jethro Tull track, you’d be hard pressed to say nay. So go out and get it now—and make sure you stick around for the bonus videos and documentaries after you’ve stopped chortling.

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #627.267!

Brainkiller – The Infiltration (Rare Noise) :: I got this one because the title reminded me of that old Andrew Dice Clay movie Brainsmasher—you know, the one directed by Albert “The Hawaiian” Pyun with a soundtrack featuring the Forbidden Pigs and Madelynn von Ritz—so I figured I was in for some kinda hellacious hellspew of sound that’d send me staggering into the middle of next week. Instead, I got this unexpected session of destorto jazzbo noir noodling that fuses trumpet and keys into a suitably squirrely hypothetical score for the second Mike Hammer movie that writer Mickey Spillane, regrettably, never got to star in.

Roy Rowland – The Girl Hunters (Colorama) :: And as we all know, Mickey Spillane is Mike Hammer. Happy 100th birthday, Mick!

Andrea Ramolo – The Shadows And The Cracks (Thorniac) :: Y’gotta love a woman who’s got the temerity to start off an album by audaciously rhyming “Greece” with “philosophies” as Andrea does on “O Brother.” The only problem being that, as equally adept as the rest of the album is, it never quite kinetically lives up to that initial harp-wailin’ opening track. Granted, that’s probably more my problem than it is hers; however it’s obvious that Andrea’s able to rock out any time she likes yet inexplicably deigns to say nay—and that’s problematical.

Revis – “Save Our Souls” (NRG Artists) :: Classic guitar-wailin’ power rock with a emblematic chorus that veers a little too close into generic angst rock territory for my liking. Still, it’s anthemic enough to make the grade as a Class A fist-pumpin’ BIC-flickin’ concert staple.

The Postelles – The Postelles (+1) :: Pleasing power pop with an anchoring dash of de islands, mon—and that’s just the first track. Delve deeper and you’ll find a eleven more witnesses who’re willing to testify to the wittiness these Postelles’ deliver within.

CINEMATIC PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Daniel Jamison’s Danjam Orchestra – Sudden Appearance (OA2) :: From Clint Eastwood’s Sudden Impact to JCVD’s Sudden Death, it’s long been a proven scientific fact that anything with the word “Sudden” in its title is bound to be a bona fide hit—and this album is guaranteed to be no exception to that beholdin’ rule even though this ain’t no moving picture by a long shot. But it is a soundtrack of sorts in that your brain will be conjuring up an endless array of cinematic images nonetheless, thanks to the evocative assortment of selections that saxman Danjam’s swingin’ jazz band essays. From the frantic ten minute rain-soaked noir bop of “Alone Together” to the hepper than hip twelve minute title track to the sensitive and sensuously smooth take given the Charlie Chaplin standard “Smile” this is one album that’ll be in heavy rotation on your turntable for weeks. Bonus points for admitting in your liner notes that you had the good taste to be inspired by Rob McConnell’s legendary Boss Brass—because that’s what this excellent album is in a word: Boss.

Be seeing you!

JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #626.266!

The Von Ehrics – Two Foot Stomp (Lucky Buck) :: From Von Iva and Von Dutch to Von Bodé and Von Halen, it’s a well-known historical fact that the greatest rock ’n’ roll bands in the world have always had a much-coveted “Von” in their names—and these here Von Ehrics ain’t no exception to the grindhouse gruel ’cause their Texas-tough brand of guitar-driven block-brawlin’ beats is cast iron certain to keep you on the edge of your teetering bar seat until you find yourself tipped over and suckin’ sawdust. Points deducted for not getting Von Wood to give ’em some neck.

Rory Block – Shake ’Em On Down: A Tribute To Mississippi Fred McDowell (Stony Plain) :: Speaking of serious necking, you don’t want to miss this new album by one of the world’s premier country blues practitioners. As you might expect from someone who’s been fingering frets since the early ’60s and has over 25 albums to her credit, Rory does Fred justice but, even better, she’s written her own excellent odes to the man—which is only fitting considering that she actually met Fred, just like she met Son House who she likewise lionized on an earlier album. Best of all, this living historian of the genre gets it done just by using her signature Martin and her signifying voice.

SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Bootsy Collins – The Funk Capitol Of The World (Mascot) :: I’ll always consider bassman Bootsy’s riotously inventive and utterly unorthodox synth-soaked funxperimental album Ultra Wave to be his ace masterpiece, but there’s no denying that this new educational encapsulation of what’s been going on in the hierarchy of hip is the first fresh fusion funk bomb of the decade. And although guest star appearances on an album are usually a sure-fire death-knell declaration of aesthetic bankruptcy, who could possibly argue with the delirious dream team that Casper’s assembled; an all star selection so sonically stellar that even a partial accounting deserves to have a paragraph all its own:

Bobby Womack! George Clinton! Jimi Hendrix! Chuck D! Ice Cube! Snoop Dogg! Sheila E! Catfish Collins! Buckethead! Béla Fleck! plus over a dozen more, including the unlikely likes of Samuel L. Jackson (!) telling hometown tales on “After These Messages” and rapmeister Reverend Al Sharpton (!!) who—don’t laugh—actually delivers the goods six ways from Sunday on the GFOS accolade “JB-Still The Man.”

From the mortarboard dissertation “Hip Hop @ Funk U” that lives up to its name to the rock machination “Minds Under Construction” that picks up where Bootzilla’s collaboration with Jeff Beck on “The House Of The Blue Danube” left off, this one’s got it all—and there’s only one thing you can say about the soulful make out music that ends the album, the likes of which haven’t been heard since the sensuously smooth sound cracks waxed by the lubricous love firm of Hayes & White Incorporated:

A-well-a-ruh, that’s alright!

Be seeing you!