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 where Mitchell is the sole horn player: the opening track on it 'I'll Close My Eyes' being a particularly fine showcase for his playing. Blue Soul, where Mitchell's trumpet is complemented by Jimmy Heath's tenor sax and by Curtis Fuller on trombone, comes a close second.

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All Wrapped Up

Here's another of the compilation cassettes I bought this summer, having taken home a Denon twin-deck hi-fi cassette player from the local charity shop. All Wrapped Up is a 1983 compilation of singles by The Undertones, with Side One filled with A-sides, and B-sides on Side Two. A cassette must be the least desirable medium for such an arrangement, with a long rewind required if one just wants to hear the hits repeatedly. The Undertones were unapologetically provincial and anti-fashionable, with their songs sharply-written slices of life that pointedly avoided any mention of politics, or of the then-continuing violence in their native Derry. My favourite tracks are the obvious choices: 'Teenage Kicks', 'Jimmy Jimmy', 'Here Comes the Summer', 'My Perfect Cousin' & 'Wednesday Week'. Their later singles showed increased sophistication but lack the some of the straightforward charm of their earlier work. The B-sides, not unexpectedly, are mo

In Heat

Having acquired the soubriquet "the walrus of love", Barry White thereafter became something of a figure of fun, something that misled me (and presumably others) into disregarding his music. Only within the last few years have I begun to pay it more attention. After picking up a copy of his '74 album Can't Get Enough last summer, which I loved, I sought out some of the music by his protegés Love Unlimited. From a Discogs seller I ordered well-used copies of Under the Influence of... ('73) and In Heat ('74) for only £6.25. The only unappealing thing about In Heat is its awful title. The songs and the singing are strong; the arrangements rich & warmly enveloping. As one would expect from White, the thematic focus is firmly fixed on amatory matters. The opening number 'Move Me No Mountain' (the only one on the record not written by White) offers a refreshing rebuttal to the kind of lyrical hyperbole in songs like 'Ain't No Mountain High E

Bananas Are Not Created Equal

I knew Jay Berliner's name from his contributions to Van Morrison's Astral Weeks and Charles Mingus' The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady , so when I saw this curiously-titled LP at the local charity shop I was intrigued, and bought it even though I had no idea what kind of music it might contain. This was after the days when one could still buy records there for a pound apiece, but I don't think I paid more than a fiver for it. The music turned out to be an all-instrumental blend of funk, soul & jazz. Berliner's virtuoso lead guitar is only one of many attractions here. The band of first-rate session musicians behind him are all uniformly excellent too, and, crucially, sound like they're having a blast. Cornell Dupree's supporting guitar work, while less showy than Berliner's, is beautifully-judged, and the rhythm section is terrific. Arranger/conductor Wade Marcus was no slouch either, judging from the way everything comes together. Two of the funk

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