Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from July, 2022

Ein Schattenspiel, etc.

Georg Friedrich Haas is a contemporary Austrian composer of "art music". "Haas's style recalls that of György Ligeti in its use of micropolyphony, microintervals and the exploitation of the overtone series; he is often characterized as a leading exponent of spectral music" says wikipedia. Only a relative few of his many compositions have been issued on CD - many more of them can be found on YouTube. On this 2020 disc are three of his works in which standard classical instrumentation is augmented and altered by "live electronics". Two are string quartets and one is for solo piano. Is a string quartet still really a quartet if there are meanwhile some other people with laptops busily twizzling the sound? There is a live performance video of the 'String Quartet No. 7', the first work on the disc, where the JACK Quartet are supplemented by a trio of sound boffins to realise the composition. Whether it's properly a quartet or a septet is neithe

Till It's All Gone

Is rock'n'roll dead? A shadow of its former self at least, or a ghost of it. Metal still seems to be thriving, but looks to have evolved away far enough from rock'n'roll to be considered a separate species. Of course there are dedicated individuals who won't let it lie still: Jim Jones, for one, has been doing his level best to keep it alive, or to animate its unholy remains, whether as part of Thee Hypnotics, The Jim Jones Revue, or Jim Jones and the Righteous Mind. This CD single: 'Till It's All Gone'/'Walk It Out' is unique among the records on my shelves in that I won it. I've mentioned before being a regular listener for years to Marc Riley's Radio 6 evening show. Among its recurring features is 'Who's On My T-Shirt Tonight, Then?' a quiz where the prize is a T-Shirt on which a guest to the show has been persuaded to draw the likeness of a band or musician. A series of clues are supplied and listeners invited to guess th

Trans Europa Express

My cousin Jeff, three years my senior, had an extensive record collection. Plenty of what he liked, I didn't, but our tastes did intersect. I distinctly recall him playing the first three tracks on side B of Trans Europe Express to me one Sunday; assuming, correctly, that I'd be interested - it certainly wasn't like anything else I'd heard up to that point. That would have been a few years before I started buying music of my own: nevertheless, it planted a seed. What we have here is a 1994 German CD issue of Kraftwerk's sixth album, with the original monochrome cover design. It has unkindly been said that Germans prefer the English-language versions of the band's songs and English-language speakers prefer the German ones: in any case, that is generally true for me. I'd had Autobahn on cassette since the '80s, and then later on CD, but had dithered about buying any others until my German music phase of '07/'08, when I acquired this disc and

The Steamer

I was very lucky to find a '60s copy of the justly famous Getz/Gilberto LP for a very reasonable price seven or eight years ago, but have had less luck with Getz's work since then, picking up and discarding a few albums bearing his name that I didn't much care for. I was in two minds, then, about buying this one last year, a 1964 UK issue of a record originally released in '57, all the more so as its sleeve was in rather grubby condition. The record turned out to be decidedly dirty itself: barely playable until a first thorough cleaning, and not sounding too good until a second. I'm glad I persevered with it, as it's an excellent slice of straight-ahead late '50s jazz, and the disc, now free of its accumulated patina, sounds great. Getz is part of a quartet here, joined by Lou Levy on piano, Leroy Vinnegar on bass and Stan Levey on drums. The mid-tempo 'Blues For Mary Jane' kicks things off in confident style, the only number on the record composed

Dummy

My first experience of Portishead (the place) would have been in '94 when my colleague Martin Robinson invited me to join him and his girlfriend to make up a team for a pub quiz somewhere at the edge of that town. I must have had a reputation as a bit of a know-it-all. As luck would have it, the questions played to my strengths and we won, despite most of the other teams having four or five members. I think by then I would have already experienced Portishead (the group). I first heard them on (I think) Pete Tong's Radio 1 show, 'Numb' issuing weakly from my bedside clock-radio. I took notice at once, loving what I heard, and bought Dummy on cassette as soon as I could find a copy. I played it a great deal, and got it on CD too a few years later. The CD ended up with a lot of mileage as well: though perhaps I listened to it too often, as there eventually came a point where its appeal began to fade, whereas its near-contemporary Maxinquaye has better retained my affect

Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?

Was it on the kind of mix CD that one might find affixed to the cover of a music magazine where I first heard 'Jellybones' by The Unicorns? Or was on a hand-made CD-R mix that someone kindly sent me from the other side of the internet? I can't remember, but I fell for the song and ordered the album, specifically the UK CD version, on the strength of it. It's a whimsical, odd, inventive record, although, for me, nothing else on it quite matches the charm of 'Jellybones'. It's not a CD I've played a great deal. When I do, I'm impressed afresh by it, without my admiration amounting to love. It's not the first time the act of writing about a record has been the stimulus that leads to my letting it go: I'll be releasing this one back into the wild in the near future. The sleeve design is exactly right. My second-favourite tracks on the disc are probably the spectral segue of 'Ghost Mountain' & 'Sea Ghost', and also 'Let'

The Singles

Between lockdowns in 2020 I purchased a pre-owned vinyl copy of The Singles compilation by Pretenders. It includes sixteen of their golden greats. I always liked the sound of Chrissie Hynde's voice and enjoyed many of these songs when they were new, while being ambivalent about others (notably 'Brass in Pocket', and some of the later hits). I wasn't enough of a fan to investigate their albums, so its a case of a "Best Of" being ideal. In general I prefer the less polished stuff on side A to the glossier material on side B, but I can sit back and enjoy almost all of it, with the exception of the closing track, the version of 'I Got You Babe' Hynde did with UB40 - an interloper in my estimation that doesn't really belong. Hynde wrote or co-wrote eleven of the sixteen tracks, so the album's a testament to her top-notch songwriting skills. A further two songs are from the pen of her one-time partner Ray Davies, and another two, besides 'I Got

We Are Sent Here By History

Saxophonist and composer Shabaka Hutchings evidently likes to keep himself busy as the leader of The Comet is Coming, and, until very recently, of Sons Of Kemet; not to mention his work as a soloist and sideman. Out of the music of his I've heard, my favourite thus far is this album We Are Sent Here By History by Shabaka And The Ancestors, the second record from the band who, apart from Hutchings himself, are based in South Africa. I acquired it last year, on CD. The two obvious focal points of the music are Huthchings' lead tenor sax and clarinet, and poet Siyabonga Mthembu's compelling chants and recitations, delivered in English, Zulu and Xhosa. Also immediately impressive is Ariel Zamonsky’s work on the double bass, but the whole band blends together beautifully. The disc gets off to a powerful start with the ten-minute opener 'They Who Must Die'. The musicians are more than capable of delicate virtuosity, but meanwhile not above playing with simpler blunt forc

24 Preludes, etc.

The first of Alexander Scriabin's works I heard were some of his heady, mystically-inclined, later piano sonatas - of those, I developed a particular fondness for the 'White Mass' Sonata (no. 7). After those, encountering his earlier, delicately Chopinesque compositions took me by surprise. Side A of the present LP contains Scriabin's set of 24 Preludes (Op. 11, 1896) which are obviously inspired by Chopin's famous Op. 28 set. Despite the likenesses of form and style, there are, meanwhile, enough dissimilarities to prevent their seeming mere pastiches. Even if they're collectively not quite up there with Chopin's pieces, they make for absorbing and enjoyable listening. Side B kicks off with the op. 28 'Fantasie' written in 1900, which is still determinedly "Romantic", albeit with as much of Liszt in its heavily sonorous chords as Chopin. The remaining works on the disc (the two Poèmes, Op.32 and eight Études, Op.42) date from 1903, when Sc

Blak Hanz

The Moonlandingz began as a figment in the imaginations of the Sheffield duo The Eccentronic Research Council, whose idea for a concept album about a fictional band by that name and an obsessive fan of theirs ended up with the no-longer-altogether-imaginary group recording some real songs. It helped matters no end that they were able to recruit Lias Saoudi and Saul Adamczewski of London-based reprobates The Fat While Family to take part. The first song to surface from the project, ' Sweet Saturn Mine ', knocked my socks off when I first heard it in 2015. In time there was a full Moonlandingz album ( Interplanetary Class Classics ), but before that there were a few EPs, including this one, Blak Hanz , a 10" record with four tracks issued in a limited edition of 500 copies in 2016. I'd missed out on the first couple of releases owing to lack of funds, but eagerly snapped this one up.  As well as the queasy psych-pop of the title track, there's ' Drop It Fauntlero

Seven Classic Albums

The Real Gone Jazz label must have issued at least a couple of hundred multi-CD jazz compilations, of which I've haphazardly accumulated seven or eight, the latest of which is this collection of Seven Classic Albums by the trumpeter and composer Richard Allen 'Blue' Mitchell. The seven records in question are Big 6 , Out of the Blue , Blue Soul , Blue's Moods , Smooth as the Wind , A Sure Thing and The Cup Bearers , all dating from between 1958 and 1962. As with all of these compilations, I like some parts better then others. Smooth as the Wind is an attempt at marrying a ten-piece jazz band with a string section, which, despite the efforts of expert arrangers Tadd Dameron and Benny Golson, doesn't hit the spot for me. A Sure Thing boasts arrangements by saxophonist Jimmy Heath played by a nine-piece band, which I like a little better, but not as much as the albums featuring smaller ensembles. Indeed, my favourite of the seven, Blue's Moods, is the only one

Beat Surrender

I've always loved The Jam's swansong single, and was delighted to find a 7" copy of it in a picture sleeve about four years ago. Back in the '80s my sister had a copy of the 'Start!' single, and, later, the Snap! double-album compilation. The latter, despite my affection for many of the songs thereon, never quite gelled for me as an LP: I seem to enjoy their music better in smaller portions; a single is ideal. Besides this one, I also have 'That's Entertainment' and 'The Bitterest Pill' as 45s. The core trio were augmented on this number by piano, trumpet & saxophone, and by Tracie Young's backing vocals. Bruce Foxton also joined in the singing. Paul Weller was obviously half-way to The Style Council by this point, not only on the soulful A-side, but on the B-side too. 'Shopping' is a moodily shuffling number that includes a splash of brass and some lovely guitar work, and isn't far short of coming together very nicely.

100% Purified Soul

Though James & Bobby were cousins, they didn't share a surname: 'Jim & Bobby Dickey' didn't have the same ring about it, however, and neither did 'Robert & James Purify', so 'James & Bobby Purify' it was. This is a 16-track compilation on the UK Charly R&B label from 1988 of some of the duo's most popular tunes. I'd taken a chance on a '60s album of theirs ( The Pure Sound Of The Purifys ) six or seven years ago, and though the music was marvellous, the disc had been well-used and was in poor condition, so when this record came into my hands it took the place of the other one. It's a well put-together selection, with informative sleeve-notes by John Ridley, who makes a strong case for their being underappreciated talents too often overshadowed by their more successful contemporaries Sam & Dave. James and Bobby benefitted from recording at the renowned FAME Studios in Alabama, with the expert backing of the Muscl

Tago Mago

Some mis-steps delayed my gaining a proper appreciation of Can. I'd heard their name mentioned more than once as influential innovators, but had no idea what was what in their back catalogue. The first thing of theirs I acquired was a cassette copy of Delay 1968 , which I don't think I was quite ready for; nor, in any case, is it their finest work. I'd evidently persuaded myself that their early stuff must be the best, as, six or seven years later I tried again, picking up Monster Movie on CD, and also the Unlimited Edition compilation.  The former, I thought, was more like it, though it still didn't quite hit the spot I'd hoped it might. A further seven or eight years passed before I happened to hear the track 'Future Days', which I loved, prompting me to buy the then-new SACD issue of the album with the same name. This was around the same time I'd belatedly discovered NEU!, Cluster, et al. I ordered a copy of Ege Bamyasi soon after. And there, with

Crazy He Calls Me

After I'd accumulated a couple of dozen excellent LPs by the likes of Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, Nat 'King' Cole and Frank Sinatra, it occurred to me to wonder who else had been signing in similar styles in the '50s and '60s whose names were less well-remembered. I went looking on-line and thereby found my way to singers I ought to have heard of, like Nancy Wilson , and to more obscure performers such as Ethel Ennis and Dakota Staton . Staton was blessed with a clear & bright voice capable of near-operatic power. She comes across as an ebullient performer. Her diction was excellent, even if, to my taste, she was sometimes prone to over-enunciate and over-act a lyric. I suspect that, given the opportunity, she could have shone in musical theatre. Crazy He Calls Me is one of no fewer than three LPs Capitol Records released under her name in 1959. Unlike the others it's a compilation of newly-recorded tracks and of material pre-dating her '57 breakth

Leggiero, Pesante

The moody, monochrome seascape on the cover, and the foreign title (without any direct relation to the music) signal to the prospective CD buyer that Serious Art awaits them therein. The essay in the 30-page booket by Tatjana Frumkis, given in German & English, is, moreover, a highbrow affair, quoting Pushkin, Hölderlin & Mandelstam. Sure enough, Ukrainian composer Valentin Silvestrov's music isn't exactly a barrel of laughs, though some of it is undoubtedly very beautiful. The first piece on the disc is a 'Sonata for Violoncello and Piano' dating from 1983. For its twenty-two minute duration it alternates between fragmentary melodies and more harshly astringent passages, petering out to near-silence toward the end. Anja Lechner and Silke Avenhaus are the cellist and pianist. Next up, Silvestrov's 'String Quartet no. 1', composed in 1974. It begins with slow and quiet harmonies, but, while it continues in a mostly low & slow manner, conventional

Eat To The Beat

I first heard and saw Blondie in 1978 when 'Denis' became a no. 2 UK hit. As I was nine years old, my admiration for Debbie and the band was appropriately childlike and innocent: at least to begin with. By the following year, my sister had the Parallel Lines LP, and, while I must have heard it at least a hundred times, it never lost its shine. As for myself, I eventually bought The Best of Blondie on cassette. I never saw them live, but I did catch Deborah Harry (as she then styled herself) in London performing on her Def, Dumb and Blonde tour in '89 or '90. In later years, I could easily have bought Blondie's albums on CD, but in my mind I'd associated the band with analogue media, and felt that listening to them digitally somehow wouldn't be right. Eat To The Beat was my first Blondie LP, acquired about seven years ago. I've since bought copies of Parallel Lines and Plastic Letters too, plus a few singles. While not quite on a par with Paralle

Structure Et Force

Having discovered saxophonist/composer Naruyoshi Kikuchi's ' Dub Sextet ' I subsequently learned he was a  leading light in another, larger ensemble, the awkwardly-named Date Course Royal Pentagon Garden (DCPRG for short). By way of amazon.co.jp, I ordered three of their albums. These all had their finer points, but the one I liked best (and the only one I still have) is Structure et Force , from 2003. They aren't an easy band to describe - a Discogs blurb attempts to characterize them as a "free jazz/improv/rock-in-opposition/fusion/avant-prog supergroup". On Stucture et Force DCPRG are a fourteen-piece outfit, with an additional drummer guesting on two of the album's six compositions. Each of the tracks has a French (or pseudo-French) and a Japanese title, beginning with 'Structure I - La Structure De La Magie Monderne; 構造I-現代呪術の構造'. This first number is a busy one with a churning bassline and keyboards resembling disco string-section accompanim

Cello Sonatas

Ignaz Moscheles and Johann Nepomuk Hummel were among the most notable virtuoso pianists and composers from the generation between Beethoven's and that of Chopin, Liszt & Schumann. This 2006 CD showcases a cello sonata by each of them, performed by Jiři Barta on the cello with Hamish Milne at the piano. Hummel's op. 104 Sonata in A major was composed in the mid 1820s. John Warrack's booklet notes characterise it as "less a piece for virtuosos than for musical companions, amiable and graceful." Moscheles' op. 121 Sonata in E major dates from rather later, ca. 1850, by which time the composer might have been considered a vaguely unfashionable elder statesman. The work was dedicated to Schumann, who had long been a fan of Moscheles'. This later Sonata is also tuneful, but has more substance & drama than Hummel's. It's in four movements, with the middle two, a perky Scherzo and a 'Dumka'-style 'Ballade' being my favourites. Filli

Soul Call

I currently have three Kenny Burrell albums: this one on vinyl and a 2-CD set of the All Night Long and All Day Long records (initially credited to 'The Prestige All-Stars'). I did also recently acquire one of his '70s LPs - When Lights Are Low , but there Burrell's warm & mellow playing seemed to verge on the cloyingly bland, so I didn't keep it. That's not counting albums where he contributes as a sideman, of which I have at least a few more. Soul Call (1964), on the other hand, I do very much enjoy. It may not be as inspired as his renowned Midnight Blue LP, released the year before, but it holds together very well. As on Midnight Blue , percussionist Ray Barretto augments the rhythm section with his conga-playing, heard to great effect on the title track, and on 'Kenny's Theme', where there's some delightful dialogue between Barretto and drummer Bill English. Each side comprises three tracks in a slow-fast-slow sequence. Of the slow p

Beat The Clock

It was in the wake of The Sparks Brothers and Annette movies last year that I paid a pound for a slightly distressed 7" copy of 'Beat the Clock'. I'm just about old enough to recall Sparks' startling debut appearance on Top of the Pops back in 1974. For all that. their music didn't loom especially large in my childhood, and by the time of their Giorgio Moroder collaboration in 1979 which gave rise to 'The Number One Song in Heaven' and 'Beat the Clock', they weren't my cup of tea. Notwithstanding the influence their template of emotive singer/expressionless keyboardist had on any number of artists that followed, I was only dimly and sporadically aware of the brothers' career from the '80s onward. It was FFS , their 2015 collaboration with Franz Ferdinand, that brought them squarely back to my attention: I particularly enjoyed the track 'Police Encounters' from that album.  Their own recent music has something of an operett

The Riverside Years

With the copyright of many classic jazz recordings having expired in the EU there have been a profusion of public domain re-issues of doubtful provenance and unpredicatable quality. Here is an example: a 5 CD set from 2013 of albums originally on the Riverside label between 1956 and 1960. The re-issue is courtesy of 'Not Now Music'. In this instance the sound quality is plenty good enough for me. Each CD comes in a card sleeve and includes a single album, with no added bonus tracks. There's also a 20-page booklet with notes by Peter Gamble, the whole package contained in a clamshell box. I had downloaded versions of a couple of the albums included here some time ago, but felt the need to acquire hard copies of  his music too. I've never found an affordable Monk LP in the wild, so an inexpensive CD set seemed like a good choice. Of the albums in the box, The Unique Thelonious Monk is, for me, the least interesting, with Monk tackling seven standards accompanied by bass &

I'm In Love With A German Film Star

I was a little young to be fully enamoured with The Passions' 'I'm in Love with a German Film Star' at the time it was released, but it's a distinctive song that kept turning up on the radio over the following years as it meanwhile stuck tenaciously in my mind, as it has done in many others'. Having repeatedly sought it out on YouTube, last year I eventually got around to ordering a 7" copy in a plain paper sleeve from an ebay seller. A simple, steady arrangement with a perfectly-judged guitar part undepins Barbara Gogan's pretentious yet heartfelt lyrics. To a provincial 12-year-old who'd barely even seen a German film, it all seemed terribly sophisticated and cosmopolitan. Only years later did it become common knowledge that the object of Gogan's affection was from Coventry, and had been a roadie for The Clash and The Sex Pistols before going on to do bit-parts in German films & TV. The song still sounds great to this day, with producer Pe

Street Life

'Street Life' was, for decades, my one point of contact with the voluminous discography of The Crusaders. Only in the last few years have I heard a little more: I found one of their '70s albums in a charity shop, but it didn't grab me; and I picked up a copy of B.B. King's Midnight Believer (prominently featuring members of the band) which I enjoyed much more - although I ended up giving it to my Dad. I also found a copy of 'Street Life' on 7': this was every bit as good as I rememberered it. The sleek arrangement and Randy Crawford's exquisite vocal combine to wonderful effect. I'd been cluelessly oblivious to the fact that the single version (just short of four minutes long) was much abbreviated when compared to the album version, which clocks in at over eleven minutes. The B-side is 'The Hustler', a funkier instrumental number which conjures up a similarly nocturnal cityscape as one listens. The single version is again shortened relat

Der Bote

While visiting the town of Kalmar in 2001, I bought a CD entitled Alina , on the ECM label: a beautifully soporific disc including a couple of performances, extended by improvisation, of Arvo Pärt's short piano piece 'Für Alina'. Was there other piano music by Pärt out there? All I could find was another short work ('Variationen Zur Gesundung Von Arinuschka') which I obtained on a CD, ordered on-line, called Pourquoi Je Suis Si Sentimental . This disc, of 'Post-Avant-Garde Piano Music From The Ex-Soviet Union' turned out to be a real discovery - an eye-opener - my first introduction to the work of composers like Alexander Rabinovitch, Georgs Pelēcis & Valentin Silvestrov; all performed by the pianist Alexei Lubimov. Looking for more music by these composers (and for more of Lubimov's playing), led me to Der Bote , another ECM release, one with a loosely elegaic theme. The album's title (and the title of the piece by Silvestrov that closes the rec

The Best Of Peggy Lee

The Best of Peggy Lee , but without 'Fever', her most famous song? This alone might incline one to scepticism about this 1981 compilation, but the packaging doesn't help either. The design is rudimentary, the sleevenotes perfunctory and uncredited, with the pictures on the inner sleeve of other titles from the "MCA Special Price Nostalgia Series" resembling bad photocopies. Fortunately, though, the mastering & pressing are quite adequate and the music itself is marvellous. The record opens in atypical style with the hot-blooded melodrama of 'Lover', where Lee's full-on vocal delivery overlays a boldly percussive arrangement. Elsewhere the singer's voice is oftener more of a croon, and the emotional temperature is cooler (though the version here of Cole Porter's 'Just One Of Those Things' has something of that same energy). Track 2, 'Apples, Peaches And Cherries', is a twee number partly played for laughs; track 3 'Love M

The Raw And The Cooked

One of my earlier vinyl acquisitions, The Raw and the Cooked isn't an album I've played very often, despite its "all killer, no filler" strength in depth. It's startling to think that it was something like fifteen years old when I bought it, more than fifteen years ago. No fewer than six of its ten tracks were released as singles in the UK, with all but the last of them top 40 hits: it felt inescapable in 1988/89 and left a large footprint. For all that, it didn't seem to have a great deal of influence on what came next. FYC guitarist/keyboardist Andy Cox was quoted as saying it was "30 years of pop music condensed into 30 minutes": perhaps it was more a concise summation of what had preceded it than a sign of things to come. I'd say my favourite tracks are the third and fourth on side A: 'I'm Not The Man I Used To Be' and 'I'm Not Satisfied'. The striking graphic design of the credits on the inner sleeve is easy on the e

Gerry Mulligan '63

By the '60s, big-band jazz was, economically, a difficult business to sustain, but there were still some willing to have a stab at it. Gerry Mulligan did sterling work on that front with his Concert Jazz Band, which, in its various permutations released five LPs on the Verve label between 1960 and 1963: this one, with Mulligan all clean-cut & fresh-faced on the cover, being the last of them. I found my copy in Chepstow back at the start of this year I've had mixed success with Mulligan's records, disliking as many from his very extensive discography as I've enjoyed, but this one was an immediate hit. In this incarnation The Concert Jazz Band was seventeen strong. Most of its members' names were unfamiliar to me, aside from trombonist Bob Brookmeyer and the seemingly ubiquitous Clark Terry on trumpet & flugelhorn. And Mulligan himself, of course. The LP includes a pair of standards, the uptempo 'Little Rock Getaway' and a well-burnished rendition of &

The Discovery Of A World Inside The Moone

As far as I know this is the only album in my collection named after a 17th-Century treatise on speculative astronomy: specifically John Wilkins' The Discovery of a World in the Moone: or, A Discourse Tending to Prove that 'tis probable there may be another habitable World in that Planet (London, 1638). It's not at all obvious to me why the band chose that title: some of the songs' lyrics hint at otherworldly shenanigans, but I don't recall the moon being mentioned anywhere in them.  My belated exploration of the œuvre of the Elephant 6 artists had led me to The Apples in stereo ca. 2004. I bought Tone Soul Evolution (1997) which I enjoyed, and then Her Wallpaper Reverie (1999) and Velocity of Sound (2002 - thereby skipping over The Discovery... ) neither of which held as much appeal for me, so my exploration of their catalogue stalled at that point. Only a few years ago did I return to their music, discovering that I very much enjoyed The Discovery... , and ou

Lucky Number

I remember 'Lucky Number' from its time as a UK #3 hit single in 1979 (outsold at its peak only by Elvis Costello's 'Oliver's Army' and 'I Will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor). I was only ten, but just beginning to take more of an interest in the chart's upper reaches. I suspect its success then had a lot to do with the quirkiness of the performance: with Lovich looking like something out of '20s German expressionist cinema and sounding like no-one else. It is, meanwhile, a strong song that still holds up well. The 7", on Stiff Records, was part of a lucky discovery at my local charity shop last year. The B-Side, 'Home', has also withstood the test of time, and sounds great. A few months after buying 'Lucky Number', I picked up a copy of the disco classic 'Supernature' by Cerrone, also on 7", and was surprised to learn when I looked it up that Lovich had, without being credited on the record, written its lyrics.

Paco

A correspondent had recommended the album Friday Night in San Francisco by the all-star guitar trio of Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin and Paco de Lucía, and I'd checked it out, but for me it seemed a tad too heavy on virtuosity for its own sake. A year or two later I spotted the present LP, Paco , in one of my usual haunts, recalled the recommendation, and thought I'd give it a try. I'm glad I did, as it proved much more to my liking. It's the 1975 UK release (on Island Records) of a record that had been previously been issued in the Spanish-speaking world under the title Fuente Y Caudal . Ralph Denyer's sleeve-notes say it was de Lucía's sixth album overall, but the first to be issued in the UK. Frustratingly, a manufacturing mix-up has left my copy with the Side B label on both sides of the LP. The opening track 'Entre Dos Agaus' blends de Lucía's native flamenco style with South American ingredients to beguiling effect. Elsewhere things are more sp